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“Think you can get in?”

Jones wriggled his fingers. “Let’s find out.” He sat down before the terminal and turned on the CPU. “It boots directly into a Wordperfect database. Let me review these files and see if there’s anything that might’ve interested Hamel.”

Jones reached for the keyboard—then realized that it was locked in a wooden case. “Uh-oh,” he said. “Someone doesn’t want unauthorized personnel playing with the computer.”

“Does this prove they have something to hide?” Ben asked.

“Not necessarily. Corporations are notorious for going to great lengths to keep secrets. After all, if their records were open to any hacker in town, they’d soon have no secrets at all.”

Ben examined the rectangular pine box. “It’s locked up tight. I don’t see how we’re going to get in without a key.”

“Allow me,” Loving said. “This is where you need some muscle.” Loving extended his fingers, concentrated, then brought his hand down hard on the top of the box.

“Owww!” he cried out. “That smarts.”

“Have you ever studied karate?” Ben asked.

“No. But that’s how those guys do it in the movies.”

“Ah. Jones, did he do any damage?”

“Well, not to the box.”

“Blast,” Ben said. “We’re never going to get in there. All this risk, all this sneaking around, all for nothing.”

“Don’t give up yet, o intrepid adventurer,” Christina said.

“Why not?”

“Look what I found.” She dangled a single key hooked around a brass ring.

“Where’d you get that?”

“From the back of the storage cabinet. That’s where they keep the spare.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Well…” Christina glanced at the ceiling. “I just happened to invite Marilyn from Bookkeeping out to lunch today, and we got to talking about the Apollo computer system, and one thing led to another….”

“You sly dog,” Ben said. “You were way ahead of us.”

“What else is new? I thought our plan should be more detailed than, ‘Let’s sneak in and see what happens.’ ”

“Thank goodness you were here.” Ben unlocked the box and withdrew the keyboard. Jones took control and began punching buttons.

“Great,” Jones said. “Every file is identified and listed in alphabetical order. I’ll just scan them and see if there’s anything that might’ve gotten Hamel killed.”

Christina gazed over his shoulder. “There are hundreds of files in there.”

“True,” Jones said. “Maybe you’d better have a seat.”

An hour and a half later, Ben and Christina were still sitting on the floor watching Jones’s fingers fly over the keyboard. Not exactly the most stimulating way to pass the early hours of the morning. Ben had to fight to keep his eyes open. Loving had posted himself outside the door, to “keep an eye out for trouble.”

“Seen anything interesting?” Ben asked.

“To tell you the truth,” Jones said, “I’m more interested in what I can’t see. All the files on this system are subject to easy access, except one. That one file is locked up tight; you can’t get in without a password.”

Ben scrutinized the computer terminal. “Think you can break in?”

“Only if we figure out the password. I’m not equipped to generate random letter combos or do any serious hacking.”

“What can we do?”

“I’ve been trying obvious possible passwords, but so far, I haven’t had any luck. I tried Apollo, Consortium, Howard Hamel, and several others.”

“Try Crichton,” Ben suggested. The man was just egotistical enough to use his own name.

Jones typed it onto the screen. Nothing happened.

“What about Herbert? Or, if he was feeling romantic, perhaps Candice.”

Jones tried both. Still no results.

“What about something more generic,” Christina suggested. “Try Lawyer. Or Legal. Or Murder.”

Jones tried all her suggestions, and several others that followed, but nothing cracked open the file.

“Wait a minute,” Ben said, snapping his fingers. “Try Kindergarten Club.”

Jones gave him a strange look, but obediently typed the words onto the screen.

A split second after Jones hit the Enter button, the screen faded. A blue blip was followed by page one of a new document.

“It worked!” Jones said jubilantly. “Great work, Boss.”

“Lucky guess.” He scanned the document. It appeared to be an address list containing about fifteen names.

“They’re all Apollo employees. See?” Christina pointed to the screen. “It identifies their departments and phone extensions.”

“But look here,” Jones said. “Up at the top. See the empty space? Someone has deleted a name.”

“Curiouser and curiouser.” Most of the names were unfamiliar to Ben. “What do they have in common?” he wondered aloud.

“Apparently,” Christina said, “they’re all members of the Kindergarten Club.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding his head thoughtfully. “But what in God’s name is that?”

35

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, AS Ben struggled to keep his eyelids open, he was relieved to see Christina walk into his office. Not only was he desperately sleepy—he was bored. While the Nelson case was pending, he’d been in constant motion. Now that the case was over, he had nothing to do. He had assumed he would get another case, but so far, nothing.

“Have you heard anything about Crichton?” Ben asked.

“I heard he’s going to be released from the hospital soon. Knowing him, he’ll probably be back in the office the next day.”

“Probably right.” Ben pressed a finger against his lips. “Isn’t it funny? Since you and I came here, we’ve been on two of these macho corporate outings, and both times Crichton has managed to get hurt.”

“I was thinking the same thing myself,” Christina said.

“Almost as if someone was out to get him, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Almost.”

“Had any luck with the Kindergarten list?”

She shook her head no.

“Blast. Tomorrow’s my deadline with Chief Blackwell. If I don’t have something concrete for him, he’s going to bury me so deep you won’t be able to visit me without a warrant.”

“I’m doing everything I can,” Christina said. “I pulled the personnel files on the fifteen employees on the list. They’re in different departments, answering to different bosses, doing all different kinds of work. I can’t find any connection among them, other than that they’re all Apollo employees, most of them at a fairly high level.”

Ben slapped his palm on his desk. “Hell. Maybe we should just ask them what the Kindergarten Club is.”

“Right. That’s likely to produce results. ‘Excuse me, we’ve uncovered evidence that you’re involved in some kind of weird organization linked to the mutilation-death of four teenage girls and possibly Howard Hamel. Would you mind talking about it?’ And then we could just sit back and watch the attorneys congregate.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Your problem, Ben, is that you’re just too honest. Instead of making some gigantic frontal assault, let’s try something with a bit more élan. Something more…surreptitious.”

“I’m not breaking into any more offices!”

“I’m not saying you should. All I’m suggesting is that you take a profitable walk down the hallway.”

“I don’t follow.”