earlier than the rest. Griffith was already in place on the island, and he knew the plan.
"Is Zebra Three still there?" Frick asked without prelude.
"Yeah. Hasn't moved. Seems oblivious."
"Pull the wire on the house phone."
"It's gone that far?"
"Just do as I say," Frick said. "Call me the instant he leaves the house. I'm still Zebra One as long as the under-sheriff doesn't show up or call in."
"Two-oh-one is taken care of?" Griffith asked.
"Don't worry about two-oh-one. Worry about containing Zebra Three and finding Ben Anderson."
Frick hung up the phone and sighed.
Ben Anderson was supposed to be discovered in the sea pen—a victim of a diving mishap. Certain death and a prompt discovery of the body would enable Sanker to acquire Anderson's research, perfectly legally, in short order. Now there was the need for a middle step and that was learning the secret before dispensing with its founder.
Frick swept the phone off the desk and onto the floor. He stood, his temples pounding, mind spinning.
Things were rapidly turning to absolute shit. Frick was self-aware enough to admit that he was headed down a path that might result in his having to flee the country.
Frick entered Ben Anderson's office with a spring in his step and a knowing look on his face. Sam's eyes followed Frick's right hand, which held an iron crowbar.
Frick stepped to Ben's desk drawers, tested them, and found them locked.
Frick looked at Haley, then Sam, then shoved the pry bar above the top drawer. The wood splintered with an ugly crack. Sam knew Frick was baiting them; he made no motion to stop him.
"It's a consensual search," Frick said. "I checked and the desk was purchased by the foundation and I just gave myself permission to tear it apart."
Behind Frick's jaunty air Sam detected tension, anger. Whatever Frick was up to was not going well.
With the top drawer out, Frick was able to pull the others open.
"Well, look at this." It was a gift box complete with a ribbon and a card reading: To Haley, on her birthday.
"My birthday's in April," she said quietly.
"That's obviously Haley's and belongs to her," Sam said. "What you're doing is illegal."
"It's evidence," Frick said. "You can argue about it in court during Haley's trial a year from now."
"Hey, wait a minute—" Crew began.
"You," Frick cut in, throwing Crew the box. "Open it up."
Crew carefully removed the wrap. Inside was a lacquered box, hand-painted with a scene showing beach and sea. He opened the box, revealing a strand of pearls at least eighteen inches long. Under the pearls lay another small card. It had a line drawing of a house and garden on one side and writing on the other.
"Give me those," Frick said, nodding at some greatly oversize tweezers in front of Sam.
Sam slid them across the desk within Frick's reach. "By moving the tweezers I'm not suggesting that Haley consents to this search of her property. It's absolutely not consensual."
"I forbid you to touch what is obviously a gift to me," Haley said, getting Sam's drift.
"I'm a witness," Crew said quietly.
"Whatever." Frick used the tweezers to pull out a card that read: To my treasure, my child, my student, more than my flesh: They live in the Black Silent on less
than they consume and are not killed by their excess. Swimming above them the mastodons of
the deep don't even possess such fantastic secrets. But they do have a few. Follow the logic.
ARCLES
Frick looked at Haley, then Sam. "Do you know what that means?"
Haley shrugged.
"How about the picture. Surely it's here for a reason?"
"I don't recognize the picture at all."
"I'd say the mastodons are the whales," Frick said. "I only see one whale in this room."
He walked over to a large model of a blue whale mounted on the wall. He fingered the outside of the whale, apparently looking for entry into a hidden compartment. "Know what ARCLES means?"
"I have no idea," Haley said.
Sam shook his head.
Frick touched the polished model with the heavy
"Is Zebra Three still there?" Frick asked without prelude.
"Yeah. Hasn't moved. Seems oblivious."
"Pull the wire on the house phone."
"It's gone that far?"
"Just do as I say," Frick said. "Call me the instant he leaves the house. I'm still Zebra One as long as the under-sheriff doesn't show up or call in."
"Two-oh-one is taken care of?" Griffith asked.
"Don't worry about two-oh-one. Worry about containing Zebra Three and finding Ben Anderson."
Frick hung up the phone and sighed.
Ben Anderson was supposed to be discovered in the sea pen—a victim of a diving mishap. Certain death and a prompt discovery of the body would enable Sanker to acquire Anderson's research, perfectly legally, in short order. Now there was the need for a middle step and that was learning the secret before dispensing with its founder.
Frick swept the phone off the desk and onto the floor. He stood, his temples pounding, mind spinning.
Things were rapidly turning to absolute shit. Frick was self-aware enough to admit that he was headed down a path that might result in his having to flee the country.
Frick entered Ben Anderson's office with a spring in his step and a knowing look on his face. Sam's eyes followed Frick's right hand, which held an iron crowbar.
Frick stepped to Ben's desk drawers, tested them, and found them locked.
Frick looked at Haley, then Sam, then shoved the pry bar above the top drawer. The wood splintered with an ugly crack. Sam knew Frick was baiting them; he made no motion to stop him.
"It's a consensual search," Frick said. "I checked and the desk was purchased by the foundation and I just gave myself permission to tear it apart."
Behind Frick's jaunty air Sam detected tension, anger. Whatever Frick was up to was not going well.
With the top drawer out, Frick was able to pull the others open.
"Well, look at this." It was a gift box complete with a ribbon and a card reading: To Haley, on her birthday.
"My birthday's in April," she said quietly.
"That's obviously Haley's and belongs to her," Sam said. "What you're doing is illegal."
"It's evidence," Frick said. "You can argue about it in court during Haley's trial a year from now."
"Hey, wait a minute—" Crew began.
"You," Frick cut in, throwing Crew the box. "Open it up."
Crew carefully removed the wrap. Inside was a lacquered box, hand-painted with a scene showing beach and sea. He opened the box, revealing a strand of pearls at least eighteen inches long. Under the pearls lay another small card. It had a line drawing of a house and garden on one side and writing on the other.
"Give me those," Frick said, nodding at some greatly oversize tweezers in front of Sam.
Sam slid them across the desk within Frick's reach. "By moving the tweezers I'm not suggesting that Haley consents to this search of her property. It's absolutely not consensual."
"I forbid you to touch what is obviously a gift to me," Haley said, getting Sam's drift.
"I'm a witness," Crew said quietly.
"Whatever." Frick used the tweezers to pull out a card that read: To my treasure, my child, my student, more than my flesh: They live in the Black Silent on less
than they consume and are not killed by their excess. Swimming above them the mastodons of
the deep don't even possess such fantastic secrets. But they do have a few. Follow the logic.
ARCLES
Frick looked at Haley, then Sam. "Do you know what that means?"
Haley shrugged.
"How about the picture. Surely it's here for a reason?"
"I don't recognize the picture at all."
"I'd say the mastodons are the whales," Frick said. "I only see one whale in this room."
He walked over to a large model of a blue whale mounted on the wall. He fingered the outside of the whale, apparently looking for entry into a hidden compartment. "Know what ARCLES means?"
"I have no idea," Haley said.
Sam shook his head.
Frick touched the polished model with the heavy
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