Scattered Graves

‘‘Oh, my God,’’ said Neva.

‘‘I am not a person on another computer. I am in the computer,’’ said the voice.

‘‘This is unbelievable,’’ said Neva.

Can we believe you? asked Diane.

‘‘Yes. But that doesn’t help you, does it? I could be lying,’’ it said.

You sound real, typed Diane, who had decided it was a person after all and felt vaguely disappointed, like she would prefer to be talking to HAL.

‘‘I know. That’s the beauty of it,’’ it said.

Do you know who killed Jefferies and Peeks? typed Diane.

‘‘No. But you should have asked a better question,’’ said the voice. ‘‘Remember, I am a computer.’’

I don’t know what you mean, typed Diane.

‘‘Good,’’ said the voice.

Are you lying? typed Diane.

‘‘I am exactly not lying,’’ said the voice on the com puter. ‘‘Don’t you want to ask what other information I have?’’

I’m sorry. I do want to know what other information you have, typed Diane.

‘‘You are so polite. That’s nice,’’ said the voice.

I think you are real, typed Diane.

‘‘That is the nicest compliment you could have given me,’’ said the voice.

‘‘I’m not getting anything going out or coming in,’’ said Frank, looking at the screen on his laptop. ‘‘My guess is the guy is really good, or he’s telling the truth and it’s a program.’’

What is the other information you want to give me? typed Diane.

‘‘I want to give you bank account numbers,’’ it said. ‘‘I think you know whose.’’

Give me the numbers, typed Diane.

‘‘Look me in the eye,’’ said the voice.

Diane looked into the camera. On the screen a set of numbers scrolled by with the names of banks beside them. Just at a glance, they looked like offshore ac counts.

‘‘I’ll take those.’’

They all looked up sharply toward the new voice. Rikki Gillinick was standing in the doorway between Diane’s office and her sitting room. She was holding a gun.

Chapter 42

‘‘Rikki,’’ said Diane, ‘‘I thought you were off today.’’ ‘‘I knew you guys were up to something and if I

followed, I’d find my treasure. Give me the list of

bank account numbers now.’’

Rikki carried a book bag on her arm; it looked

empty. Diane wondered how long a list she was ex

pecting. Rikki moved inside the room and kicked the

door shut behind her.

Everyone stayed where they were around the com

puter, eyeing the gun.

‘‘How did you get a gun into the museum?’’ said

Diane. She might need to have a few words with her

security personnel.

‘‘Easy. A little chink in your security a while back.

When Bryce was still running the crime lab and had

his own guard, all he had to do was bring the gun into

the museum from the crime lab side and find a place

to hide it,’’ she said.

‘‘Why would he do that?’’ said Diane.

‘‘You need to think about that real hard,’’ said

Rikki. ‘‘Now, quit stalling. I want the numbers.’’ ‘‘Is this the money Jefferies made in his little cyber