He wrote down the names and the address on a pad and then exited back through the same steps he had used to access the state records. Then he switched from the modem to a program called network. He punched more buttons and pointed at the computer at the first workstation, which began to hum. 'I can use all my machines through this one. To keep from having to use a million different floppies, I have different kinds of information stored on the hard discs of these other computers. Over there, along with a lot of other stuff, I have reverse directories for a hundred major cities. Now let's punch up Millhaven in the reverse directory.'
'God bless macros.' He punched in a few random-looking letters, typed in the South Fourth Street address, and in a couple of seconds the machine displayed: EXPRESSPOST MAIL & FAX, along with a telephone number.
'Damn.'
'Expresspost Mail?' I said. 'What's that?'
'Probably an office where you rent numbered boxes—like private post office boxes. Considering the address, I think it's a storefront with rows of these boxes and a counter with a fax machine.'
'Is it legal to give a place like that as your address?'
'Sure, but we're not done yet. Let's see if these characters ever popped up in the ordinary Millhaven telephone directory over, let's say, the past fifteen years.'
He returned to the network slogan, punched in the same terminal code and more internal directory files. He keyed in the number 91, and a long list of names beginning with A followed with addresses and telephone numbers floated up on the monitors of both the first workstation and his desk computer.
'Go over to that station and make sure I don't miss one of these names.'
I sat down before the subsidiary computer and watched the screen jump to the B listings. 'We want Andrew Belinski,' Tom said, and rolled down the Bs until he came to BELI. Then he dropped line by line through BELLIARD, BELLIBAS, BELLICK, BELLICKO, BELLIN BELLINA, BELLINELLI, BELLING, BELLISSIMO, BELMAN.
'Did I miss it, or isn't it there?'
'There's no Belinski,' I said.
'Let's try Casement.'
He scrolled rapidly to the Cs and flipped down a row of names to case, casement followed, CASEMENT, ARTHUR; CASEMENT,HUGH; CASENENTM ROGER. There was no Leon.
'Well, I think I know what we're going to find, but let's just try the last one.'
He jumped immediately to W, and rolled electronically through the pages. One Writzmann was listed in the 1991 Millhaven directory, Oscar, of 5460 Fond du Lac Drive.
'What do you know? Either they don't exist, or they don't have telephones. Which seems more likely to you?'
'Maybe they have unlisted numbers,' I said.
'To me, no numbers are unlisted.' He smiled at me, proud of his toys.
'Maybe they're hiding—you can get a phone under another name, which makes it impossible to find you this way. But five years ago, maybe they didn't know they wouldn't want anybody to be able to find them in 1991. Let's try the listings for 1986.'
Another series of backward steps, another keystroke, and all the listed and unlisted telephone numbers in Millhaven for 1986 came up on both screens.
There were no Belinskis, the same three Casements, and Oscar, but not William, Writmann.
'Let's zip back to 1981, and see if we can find them there.'
The 1981 directory contained no Belinski, Casement, Arthur and Roger but not Hugh, and Writzmann, Oscar, at 5460 Fond du Lac Drive.
'I think I get the picture, but just for the hell of it, let's take a look at 1976.'
No Belinski. Casement, Arthur, without the company of Roger. Writzmann, Oscar, already at 5460 Fond du Lac Drive.
'We struck out,' I said.
'Hardly,' Tom said. 'We've made great strides. We have discovered the very interesting fact that the car you saw following John is the property of a company incorporated in the State of Illinois under a convenience address and three phony names. I wonder if Belinski, Casement, and Writzmann are phony people, too.'
I asked him what he meant by 'phony people.'
'In order to incorporate, you need a president, a vice president, and a treasurer. Now somebody filed the papers for the Elvee Holding Corporation, or there wouldn't be an Elvee Holding Corporation. If I had to guess right now, I'd say that the person who filed for incorporation back in 1979 was good old LV. Anyhow, filing only takes one man. The filer can make up the names of his fellow officers.'
'So one of these three people actually has to exist.'
'That's right, but he may exist under some other name altogether. Now think, Tim. During the past few days, has John ever mentioned anyone whose name began with the letter V?'
'I don't think so,' I said. 'He hasn't really talked about himself very much.'
'I don't suppose you ever heard Alan Brookner mention anybody with the initials LV.'
'No, I haven't.' This was a disturbing question. 'You don't think these murders could have anything to do with Alan, do you?'
'They have everything to do with him. Who are the victims? His daughter. His best graduate student. But I don't think Alan is in danger, if that's what you mean.'
I felt myself relaxing.
'You're fond of him, aren't you?'
'I think he has enough problems already,' I said.
Tom leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees, and said, 'Oh?'
'I think he might have Alzheimer's disease. He managed to get himself together for the funeral, but I'm afraid that he's going to fall apart again.'
'Did he teach last year?'
'I guess so, but I don't see how he can do it again this year. The problem is that if he quits, the entire Religion Department at Arkham goes with him, and John loses his job. Even
'Can he afford that?' Tom was looking thoughtful, and I suddenly knew what he was considering. I wondered how many people he helped, quietly and anonymously.
'Alan's pretty well set up,' I said quickly. 'April saw to that.'
'Well, then, John should hardly have to worry, either.'
'John has complicated feelings about April's money. I think it's a question of pride.'
'That's interesting,' Tom said.
He straightened up and looked at his monitor, still displaying Oscar Writzmann's name and address. 'Let's run these names through Births and Deaths. It's probably a wild goose chase, but what the hell?'
He began clicking at keys, and the screen before me went momentarily blank. Rows of codes marched across the dark gray background. John typed out Belinski, Andrew, Casement, Leon, and Writzmann, William, and the names appeared on my screen. More codes that must have been instructions to the modem replaced them. The screen went blank, and SEARCHING rose up out of the background and began pulsing on the screen.
'Now we just wait around?'
'Well, I'd like to take a look through the file,' Tom said. 'But before we do that, let's talk a little bit about the idea of
