scarab that he’d given Jeremy after his first expedition. It was just like Jeremy, to turn something that was supposed to be sentimental into something useful—a keychain. Still, the very idea that his brother carried the gift with him—that he had it on him when he died—touched Jack deep inside.
He decided he would ask for the scarab back when the investigators were done with it; as little and insignificant as it might be, it was a memento of maybe one instance in their relationship that was almost something normal between brothers. Jack was about to place the bag back where he’d found it when his gloved finger felt something through the plastic—a hard edge, right where the scarab had been fitted with the key ring. Jack looked closer—and realized that Jeremy hadn’t just glued the ring to the souvenir golden beetle; he’d drilled a hole in the thing, hollowed it out, then attached the ring through the scarab’s core. And aside from the ring, it appeared that Jeremy had jammed something else into the hollow core, so deep that only the tiniest edge was still visible. Something hard and plastic, about the size of a thumb.
Jack unsealed the evidence bag and shook the scarab out into his palm. He turned it carefully on its side, and used two fingers to pull the plastic object loose.
A computer thumb drive .
Jack stared at the drive, his mind churning. He knew that the right thing to do would be to head straight to the police station and turn the drive over to the detectives working his brother’s homicide. If Jeremy had been using the computers in the secure lab to do something that had led to his murder, the thumb drive might contain evidence that could point to the person who’d killed him.
Then Jack turned from the thumb drive to the golden scarab, still in his other palm. The thumb drive hadn’t been in a coat pocket or in a wallet; it had been jammed inside a gift from his twin brother. Jack knew he might be reaching—but his brother was a logical person, to a fault. Like a computer trying to get by in a world full of people.
The thought struck him, like a mallet to his chest.
What if his brother had put the thumb drive in the scarab for a reason?
Jack exhaled, his hand closing over the drive. With his other hand, he carefully placed the empty scarab back into the evidence bag, resealed it, and placed it right where he had found it, against the leg of the desk.
Then he rose to his feet. He gave one last look at the outline on the floor, and then headed for the door. In his mind, it really was just chalk now, a drawing, nothing more. Jeremy was gone; but just maybe, he’d left something behind, in a place he knew his brother might look.
Maybe the detectives had been wrong. Maybe Jeremy had made one last, outgoing call.
• • •
“This is incredible.”
Jack collapsed against the bench like a rag doll as Andy lowered himself to an inelegant squat on the grass in front of him, his laptop already open.They’d been going through the contents of the thumb drive for the past hour—walking like zombies, tracing near circles around the MIT campus, Andy holding his laptop open in front of them like it was some sort of handheld GPS machine. Somewhere between the Infinite Corridor and Killian Court, the grass-covered area in front of Building Ten and the Great Dome where they now found themselves, the sky had gone from a deep, almost purple shade of black to a canopy of grays.
“It’s pretty hard to accept,” Jack said, rubbing his eyes. The manicured glade in front of them seemed to stretch out the length of a football field, bordered on either side by brick and stone buildings, and directly ahead, by the architecturally striking Building Ten with its façade dominated by ten Ionic columns, and topped by its Great Dome. The building—loosely modeled on the Parthenon in Greece—was geographically at the epicenter of the MIT campus, which was why most graduates knew it as The Center of the
He decided he would ask for the scarab back when the investigators were done with it; as little and insignificant as it might be, it was a memento of maybe one instance in their relationship that was almost something normal between brothers. Jack was about to place the bag back where he’d found it when his gloved finger felt something through the plastic—a hard edge, right where the scarab had been fitted with the key ring. Jack looked closer—and realized that Jeremy hadn’t just glued the ring to the souvenir golden beetle; he’d drilled a hole in the thing, hollowed it out, then attached the ring through the scarab’s core. And aside from the ring, it appeared that Jeremy had jammed something else into the hollow core, so deep that only the tiniest edge was still visible. Something hard and plastic, about the size of a thumb.
Jack unsealed the evidence bag and shook the scarab out into his palm. He turned it carefully on its side, and used two fingers to pull the plastic object loose.
A computer thumb drive .
Jack stared at the drive, his mind churning. He knew that the right thing to do would be to head straight to the police station and turn the drive over to the detectives working his brother’s homicide. If Jeremy had been using the computers in the secure lab to do something that had led to his murder, the thumb drive might contain evidence that could point to the person who’d killed him.
Then Jack turned from the thumb drive to the golden scarab, still in his other palm. The thumb drive hadn’t been in a coat pocket or in a wallet; it had been jammed inside a gift from his twin brother. Jack knew he might be reaching—but his brother was a logical person, to a fault. Like a computer trying to get by in a world full of people.
The thought struck him, like a mallet to his chest.
What if his brother had put the thumb drive in the scarab for a reason?
Jack exhaled, his hand closing over the drive. With his other hand, he carefully placed the empty scarab back into the evidence bag, resealed it, and placed it right where he had found it, against the leg of the desk.
Then he rose to his feet. He gave one last look at the outline on the floor, and then headed for the door. In his mind, it really was just chalk now, a drawing, nothing more. Jeremy was gone; but just maybe, he’d left something behind, in a place he knew his brother might look.
Maybe the detectives had been wrong. Maybe Jeremy had made one last, outgoing call.
• • •
“This is incredible.”
Jack collapsed against the bench like a rag doll as Andy lowered himself to an inelegant squat on the grass in front of him, his laptop already open.They’d been going through the contents of the thumb drive for the past hour—walking like zombies, tracing near circles around the MIT campus, Andy holding his laptop open in front of them like it was some sort of handheld GPS machine. Somewhere between the Infinite Corridor and Killian Court, the grass-covered area in front of Building Ten and the Great Dome where they now found themselves, the sky had gone from a deep, almost purple shade of black to a canopy of grays.
“It’s pretty hard to accept,” Jack said, rubbing his eyes. The manicured glade in front of them seemed to stretch out the length of a football field, bordered on either side by brick and stone buildings, and directly ahead, by the architecturally striking Building Ten with its façade dominated by ten Ionic columns, and topped by its Great Dome. The building—loosely modeled on the Parthenon in Greece—was geographically at the epicenter of the MIT campus, which was why most graduates knew it as The Center of the
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