"Got it, boss.”
Alex Z could barely dribble a basketball, but the enthusiasm blasting through the phone told Gage he’d just performed a slam dunk.
Gage was driving up the Embarcadero Freeway from Daly City back to his office, just about to the off-ramp toward China Basin and AT amp;T Park.
“There’s no way anyone could have found it, no matter how much time they spent searching his computer.”
“Except you,” Gage said.
Alex Z laughed. “Of course.”
“How did you do it?”
“Charlie named the file Med-USA and stored it among his medical records.” Alex Z paused. Expectancy seemed to vibrate through the telephone line. “Get it?”
“Get what?”
“Med-USA.”
“No. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Remember the day I started searching Charlie’s computer?”
“Sure. I walked into your office, tossed a paper airplane over your head…”
“My earrings.”
“Earrings? Greek mythology?” Gage tried out versions in his mind. Med USA. Med-USA. MedUSA. “Medusa?”
“Bingo. Pegasus was the winged horse that emerged when Perseus cut off Medusa’s head.”
“Snakes.”
“Snakes and money. Lots of snakes and money. Millions and millions and millions of dollars over fifteen years.”
“What about the first spreadsheets you found? The ones with the coded columns?”
“I think they’re bogus. Decoys for whoever might come snooping.”
“Then why are you certain Medusa is real?”
“Because there’s a million-dollar transfer from Pegasus to Andhra Bank in Hyderabad the same week Wilbert Hawkins disappeared.”
Gage thought back on his conversation with Jack Burch.
“Where’s the Pegasus bank account?” Gage asked.
“Cayman Exchange Bank.”
Gage didn’t like hearing the name. The bank had turned up in too many offshore financial scams over the years. Never convicted, but like most banks on the Caymans, often suspected.
“Can you tell where the money came from?”
“No. I think that’s on another spreadsheet. I haven’t been able to decode it yet.”
“But you’ll figure it out?”
“I’m not walking away from this computer until I do.”