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That was why he was here at Benson Pharmaceuticals. That was why he had put on a suit and a tie, why he had decided to live as a grown-up in the grown-up world.

And it was why he would refuse to play the detective game anymore. If it turned out he was wrong and there was a mysterious murderer killing people, then let someone who knew what he was doing figure it out. He would do the job he was being paid to do.

Gus forced his mouth into a grin. “Got you with that one, didn’t I?” he said. “You have to admit, it sounded pretty good for a while.”

Shawn didn’t smile back. “Not all of it,” he said. “But it sounds like you got some of it right.”

Gus tried to keep the grin on his face, but he could feel it sagging away. “No,” he said. “I was making it all up. It was all a joke. None of it was real.”

Shawn gave him a long, hard look. “You don’t believe that.”

“I do,” Gus said. “More than I’ve ever believed anything.”

“You know there’s a killer at this company,” Shawn said.

“I know there isn’t,” Gus said.

“Think about what you’re saying,” Shawn said. “Because if we don’t stop this guy before he kills again, the next victim could be you.”

Gus had known that. He’d accepted it at the same time he decided that the killer was a phantom of his own logic. “I’ll be really careful if I go skiing,” he said.

Shawn studied his friend closely, as if looking for the smallest chink in his armor of denial. Then he let out a sigh, got up from the couch, and headed for the door. “If that’s the way you want it…”

“It’s the way it is,” Gus said. “Thanks for all your help.”

“Don’t thank me now,” Shawn said as he opened the door. “I haven’t caught this guy yet.”

“What do you mean ‘yet’?” Gus said. “There is no killer. I forbid you to look for a murderer in this company!”

But Gus was yelling at a closed door. Shawn was gone.

Chapter Thirty-one

There was an obstacle in level six of Criminal Genius that had taken Shawn a few lives to figure out. It didn’t look complicated. At the beginning of the level you were approached by a beautiful young woman who begged you to save her from her abusive husband, and in return she would introduce you to Morton, the game’s evil kingpin. This could be a shortcut to winning the entire game, since the ultimate goal was to kill Morton and take over his crime syndicate; you spent much of your game play trying to inflict enough damage on Darksyde City that he’d invite you to join his organization.

Every time Shawn’d played this level, however, he could never get past the brutal husband. No matter what kind of ambush he’d planned, the husband always spotted it and killed him. Shawn tried attacking him directly, but was overpowered and killed yet again no matter what weapons he used. One time he’d managed to infiltrate the abandoned warehouse the husband used as a headquarters-the game designers alternated between abandoned warehouses and deserted amusement parks for their criminal lairs, apparently having learned everything they knew about the underworld from watching the same ’80s cop movies Shawn had grown up on-he was immediately captured, hung by his feet from a chain that dangled from the ceiling, and dissolved in a hailstorm of machine-gun bullets.

This was still before Shawn had discovered the mysterious librarian, and he had thought the clue to Macklin Tanner’s disappearance would lie with Morton, so he believed he couldn’t move forward with his own investigation until he’d beaten this level. Still, no matter what he tried he couldn’t get past the woman’s brutal husband.

It was after he’d died for the eighth time on this level that he finally came up with a plan. This time he asked the victimized wife to come along with him to the abandoned warehouse. He’d expected they’d be captured or killed along the way, but she seemed to work like a magic charm, and they were able to walk right in.

The husband was waiting for them inside, surrounded by at least a dozen armed goons. “What do you want?” he growled, with no memory that he’d asked that question eight times before, often emphasized with jolts from a stun gun or blasts from a flamethrower.

“Your wife has been complaining,” Shawn said. “She says you’ve been hurting her.”

The husband didn’t kill him right away, which Shawn took as a positive sin. “What business is that of yours?”

“Absolutely none,” Shawn said. “Except that I don’t like people who complain.”

Before any of the thugs could move, Shawn yanked down on the chain that dangled from the ceiling. There was a rumbling Shawn could feel in his feet, then a trapdoor opened in front of him. Shawn gave the woman a shove and watched her fall in.

There was one moment where nobody moved. Then the husband jumped forward, threw his arms around Shawn’s avatar, and gave him a hug. “I should have done that years ago,” he said. “Because I don’t like complaining, either. And, say, you know who else doesn’t like complaining? My boss Morton. He’s going to like you, my boy.”

That was it. End of level six, move on to seven and the next test to prove if he was indeed brutal, vicious, and sick enough to merit a meeting with the great man of Darksyde City. And all it took was the will to betray the one person in the world who trusted you.

Even though it had moved him up a level Shawn hadn’t felt good about that particular play for a couple of days. It had left him feeling soiled in a way that all the game’s massacres and murders never could.

But no matter how dirty he’d felt afterward Shawn couldn’t argue that the simple act of betrayal hadn’t propelled him further and led him closer to the clue he was searching for. In the end wasn’t that really what was important?

He wasn’t searching for a hidden message in a computer game anymore. He was trying to solve a string of murders. More important than that-much more than that-he was trying to save Gus’ life. If Gus refused to acknowledge that a killer was stalking his company he would never see the ax before it fell.

Which meant that Shawn couldn’t afford to worry about his own feelings. If the only way to protect Gus was to commit an act of personal betrayal, he’d do it and he’d take the consequences.

The question, Shawn thought as he walked down the corridor away from Gus’ office, was what kind of betrayal would work for him now? Obviously he’d need to keep his position in the company for a little while and continue to investigate while he was here, but that might not be fast enough. That would make Gus mad enough, since he’d explicitly asked Shawn to go back to Santa Barbara and leave him alone. But Shawn knew he’d need to do a lot more than simply hang around. The killer had been too careful up until now to allow himself to believe it would be easy to spot him setting up his next murder.

No, Shawn had to do something active. Or even proactive, if that word had any meaning at all, something he’d doubted for a long time.

Shawn was so deep in thought he barely noticed he’d started down the steep stairs to the lobby until he was passing the receptionist’s desk.

“Are you coming to the memorial service for Mr. Ecclesine tonight?” she asked. “I need to put together a list for the caterer.”

“Of course I’ll be there,” Shawn said. “Wherever there’s a caterer serving hungry people, you’ll find me. It’s kind of like my motto.”

Chanterelle gave him a warm smile, then stood to grab a flyer announcing the reception from the far side of the desk. Shawn wondered briefly if there was a store that specialized in mourning clothes for the adult-film community, or if the receptionist simply shopped in the short girls’ section to save money on her wardrobe and never noticed how little of her body she managed to cover. Before he could make a decision she handed him the flyer, which gave driving, biking, and public transportation directions to the San Francisco Bay Yacht Club, where the ceremony was going to be held.