10/20 – arrvs tmrrw. TG.
A. Sikorsky Georgetown U.
"I'll be damned," said Wolfe.
"My god," Benjamin said. "Those Russian names." He swallowed hard, turned and looked at Wolfe. "It appears I was wrong about Jeremy."
"It's not that," Wolfe said absently.
"What do you mean? Isn't this list pretty much a smoking gun?"
Wolfe smiled down at him. "So you're part of a Russian spy ring? And this F. Myorkin is, I would hazard, a journalist working for the Free Russia News. And Orlova at the Russian Cultural Center? Hardly FSB headquarters in Moscow."
Benjamin looked back to the list. "And this Sikorsky?"
"Ah," nodded Wolfe, " that one I most definitely know. Anton Sikorsky, of Georgetown University. His name on this list guarantees it has nothing to do with Russian spies."
Benjamin turned back to the screen. "Then what do you make of these notes? Is that a code?"
"A crude one, perhaps. Fletcher was, among other things, a computer programmer. Programmers have a habit of condensing text by eliminating the vowels. That line by Fyorkin could be something like 'Confirmed Something 55.' And if FRN is still operating in St. Petersburg, then that's the SP. And if that's correct, there is a particularly interesting archive in St. Petersburg, the Central State Archives, where they house all the KGB's records."
"Jesus," exhaled Benjamin. "What was Jeremy doing?"
"Whatever it was," Wolfe said, "this Fyorkin's response seems to have sparked his interest in contacting other people. It's immediately after he hears from him that he contacts this Orlova at the RCC. And then you. But apparently not Anton. Not yet anyway. Perhaps he simply ran out of time…"
Benjamin glanced back at the screen. "So if you're reading his code right, his note by my name would read as…"
" 'Arrives tomorrow,' " said Wolfe.
"And the TG?" asked Benjamin.
Wolfe smiled ruefully. "I would suspect it meant 'Thank god.' "
With that, Wolfe reached down, closed the file, carefully removed it from the computer trash, and shut off the laptop.
"Well," he said with finality, "I believe we've extracted everything we can from the scene of the… incident, that is without this TEACUP password. We need sustenance. After all, empty stomachs make for empty brains."
He bent and began packing the can and flashlight back into the briefcase. When he was done he turned to Benjamin and said, "Ready?"
Benjamin nodded, then said, "I was just wondering."
"What?"
"At that last moment, as he died. I wonder what Jeremy was feeling."
Wolfe snapped the briefcase closed. "Regret, I imagine."
"Regret?" Benjamin asked.
"Yes." Wolfe moved into the hallway. "That he hadn't finished his work."
Benjamin followed him. Wolfe pulled the door closed and locked it. He took a small roll of transparent tape out of his pocket, tore a one-inch strip from it, and pressed it firmly against the top of the doorjamb.
"Now," he sighed, "let's see about a little eye-opener, shall we?"