Page 97 of The List

“You and I both know that woman doesn’t do a thing without checking with him, and she doesn’t forget anything either. It’s unlocked because Chris told her to leave it that way.”

The building’s angular shape provided a multitude of corner spaces and each owner possessed a pentagon-shaped office large enough to include two exterior walls. Bozin’s carpeted space reflected his noted dislike of a mess. The desk sat devoid of paper, its top shiny and dust-free. A few files were stacked in a blue leather basket on one side, telephone messages and mail neatlypiled atop a blotter awaiting review. A leather cup contained pens and sharpened pencils. A brass banker’s lamp sat in the center. The draperies for the two outer walls were open, the evening sun pouring in.

“Doesn’t look like anyone even works here,” Lee said.

Hughes gestured to the computer. “Chris does almost all his work electronically.”

“Check the desk?”

Hughes walked behind and tried the drawers, which opened.

No surprise.

He watched while Hughes searched. There was some stationery, a telephone book, pens, paper clips, stapler, and calculator. Everything neatly in place. Two file racks rested on a credenza behind the desk. He scanned them. Nothing of interest.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Hughes asked.

He motioned to the monitor. “Fire that thing up.”

Hughes rolled the chair closer and booted the terminal to the main menu.

“Any personal files?”

“I doubt if we could access them without knowing Chris’ password.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

Hughes opened the directory, which was unprotected. “How did you know we could get in?”

“Because we’re supposed to look.”

They scanned the index. Mainly company financials. Most he recognized. Occasionally a personal file appeared that might bear investigating.

Toward the bottom his eyes locked on

FOR HAMILTON AND LARRY

“What is that?” Hughes asked, staring at the screen.

“It’s what we’re supposed to find. Call it up.”

Hughes did and they read the file in its entirety. Twice.

“We have a big problem,” Hughes said. “What’s gotten into Chris?”

“Revenge,” he muttered. “Is that file in the main system?”

Hughes shook his head. “It’s only stored here on this computer.”

“Erase it. Though I’m sure there’s more than one copy.”

Hughes pounded the keyboard. “What are we going to do, Hamilton?”

He studied his watch. 6:23P.M.

“Nothing tonight. But first thing in the morning we’re going to get our tails to Concord.”

DAY SEVENTEEN