“You put my paintings in an
” Seth asked, frowning.
The expert shook his head, saying, “Ultra-Violet Imaging Network… measures a bunch of stuff, using UV rays.”
Logan nodded. “And what did the UVIN tell you?”
“That despite the fact that the paint looks old and cracked, the chemical makeup is about four years old.” Gesturing with his coffee cup, Henderson said, “Take the Sargent painting, for example—
”
“What about it?” Seth asked.
“Well, the real one was painted around nineteen-oh-seven.”
Hand to his forehead, as if testing for a fever, Seth stared into nowhere. “Goddamn it. I shoulda known. What a chump I am… ”
“Hardly,” the expert said. “If I'd seen these paintings in any respectable museum or private collection, it would never have occurred to me they might be fakes.”
Seth and Logan traded looks— Henderson had just confirmed what Logan had told the boy earlier.
Henderson was saying, “Remington died in nineteen-oh-nine, Russell in nineteen-twenty-six, Wyeth died in nineteen forty-five, Pollock in 'fifty-six, and Rockwell in 'seventy-eight… Yet these canvases were all painted in the last three to five years.”
Seth seemed to fold in on himself a little, hunkering over the counter; he looked as if he might be sick.
Henderson finished and set his cup on the counter. “Sorry I didn't have better news, gentlemen— it would have been a kick to be in the same room with the real paintings.” The expert climbed off the stool and tipped an imaginary hat to his host. “I'll get my stuff together.”
Now the X5 and the cyberjournalist were again alone in the kitchen. They could hear Henderson rustling around in the living room, so Logan kept his voice low: “Seth, those paintings were a bonus— they weren't what we went in for. You
what we went in for… ”
Seth looked up, his eyes dull, lifeless. “Huh?”
“The computer disc— remember?”
The X5 said nothing.
Logan smiled tightly, and tried to keep it upbeat: “You stole the paintings as a distraction— so that Sterling would think the only reason for your break-in was to steal art. He probably has no idea that we have that computer disc.”
Nodding, though rather listlessly, Seth managed, “Probably not.”
“And,” Logan said, “if I can break that code, we might learn something that will help us bring him— and Kafelnikov— down.”
“Like what?”
Logan shrugged. “Could be anything on that disc— financial records, a tally of where the original paintings have gone, who knows?… Maybe even the link to Lydecker and Manticore.”
Out in the living room, Henderson called, “I'm ready to take off, Logan,” and Logan raised a
finger to Seth, then met the art expert at the door.
He shook hands with Henderson, saying, “I'll give you a call later.”
Henderson, very softly, said, “You okay, alone with that kid?”
“Fine.”
“I don't know, Loge… seems kinda dangerous to me.”
“That's because he is.”
Henderson rolled his eyes and hauled himself and the small black carrying case out of there.
When Logan returned, he said, “You'll be glad to learn all the paintings are still in the living room.”
“Great. And what are a buncha freakin' forgeries worth?”
Logan stood next to the seated boy. “That's what I'm trying to explain, Seth— in terms of what we're trying to accomplish, a hell of a lot.”
“Does it help me get rich?”
Logan shrugged. “Probably not. But you will have helped to stop Kafelnikov, and possibly Sterling, who is looking pretty damn dirty now.”
None of this seemed to console Seth.
“Look,” the X5 said, “my life comes down to this… Current scenario: I'm on the run, hiding my ass, needing money all the time to do that. Worst-case scenario: Lydecker and Manticore catch up with me… and, since there's no way in hell I'm goin' back to Manticore alive, they kill me. Best-case scenario: I get enough money to disappear, I mean
disappear… only then can I stop lookin' over my goddamn shoulder. These paintings coulda been my
”
Logan asked, “Are you through?”
Seth glared at him. “What do you mean, am I through?”
“With the self-pity routine? What the hell happened to the rebel who wanted me to help him take Manticore down? Manticore exposed, destroyed, Lydecker out of your life permanently…
your ‘best-case scenario.' ”
Now Seth was just staring at him.
Logan met the boy's gaze, steadily, knowing he had just jumped the ass of a killing machine who could reach out and snap his neck like a twig. And, if anything had been established thus far about Seth, it was the X5's ability to perform homicide without a twinge of conscience.
Finally the silence was so terrible, Logan had to fill some of it.
He said, “You help me close down Kafelnikov, and find out where Sterling figures in this… and I promise, even if this lead is a cold one, you and I will find a way… either we'll banish Manticore from the face of this earth, or I will call on all my powers and resources to relocate you safely, in a new life.”
Seth drew a deep breath, expelled it, and said, “Sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“Sorry I was such a whiny candyass brat… what can I say… ” The boy shrugged. “… shitty upbringing.”
Logan risked a smile. “Yeah— somebody really spoiled you.”
Suddenly Seth exploded in laughter, and Logan laughed, too; the boy extended his hand.
“It's a deal, partner,” Seth said.
“It's a deal,” Logan echoed.
The two men shook hands.
“Okay,” Seth said, after a sip of coffee, “what about this famous computer disc?”
Logan sat down again. “Well, I've got my best cryptology program working on it. Could take ten minutes, ten hours, or ten days. There's no way to know. But it
work. It's never failed me yet.”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I haven't slept in four days.” Seth followed this with a world-class yawn. “Can I crash on the couch?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Take the guest room.”
