Page 49 of The Presidents Shadow

THE THREE OF us find one of the tunnels near the closest mountain of debris. Unfortunately, my suggestion to escape the small hut also exposes us once again to the stench of rotting flesh that permeates this place. We all begin walking more quickly.

“Did your father respond to any of the messages or emails?” I ask.

Jason shakes his head. “He listened to me. He ignored them.”

“Did he ever identify the student by name? Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“None at all. My father taught thousands of students over the years and did not want to surmise his identity, for fear of smearing an innocent person’s name.”

I tell Jason that I’ll need to investigate all of his father’s electronic equipment, that my colleagues, especially Burbank, will be able to unlock information stored on his father’s machines.

“Unfortunately I don’t have any of my father’s equipment.

After the tragedy, I did what I should have done much earlier.

I spoke to the police investigation unit and told them about the deranged student.

They immediately confiscated anything electronic, as well as hard-copy messages, from the equipment he kept at home,” says Jason.

“Of course, everything that had been in his office was lost to us.”

“We can talk to the investigation unit,” I say. “Or, if need be, we can have Acting President Myoki intercede for us and have all of your father’s material released.”

Jason laughs, the bitter kind that has no humor at all.

“Both Mr. Myoki and I have already asked for the return of the confiscated equipment,” says Jason. “The commissioner of the investigation told us to come back in fifty years. That’s when it’s scheduled to end.”

He says all material related to the investigation has been handed over to the military police. All pertinent matter—at least what survived—is being stored and guarded in a secure locker.

“It’s impossible to break in,” Jason says.

My response is simple.

“Impossible for anyone else, perhaps.”