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“Here it is,” Elisha said, as she extracted several stapled pages.
Pro grabbed the list she reprinted on Sunday and put the two pages side by side.
“Yeah, the list I printed up on Saturday has that email registered. But look, on the printout from Sunday, it’s gone! In fact, it states that no emails were sent on that date at all.”
Elisha frowned. “How is that possible?”
Pro shook the pages in her hands. “This case keeps getting stranger and stranger. Give me that email, and let me see what it says.”
Elisha handed the one page over, and Pro started to write numbers above the words on the page. She then checked the other code sheet and began to write out the message.
“What does it say?” her mother asked impatiently.
“I’m working on it,” Pro snapped, her head down close to the page as she wrote away. She leaned back and took a good look at the page. “Looks like it says, ‘Prototype is close. Need input. See at MS.’”
“Oh, now everything is clear.” Elisha grimaced.
“I’m trying to think how it disappeared off the list.”
“A trick of your father’s?”
“I doubt it. He can do wonders with a deck of cards or a levitation, but not with computers. I can only imagine that someone hacked the police server, because we downloaded all the files from Al Floss’s computer, including the emails.”
“So someone with very good computer skills, huh?”
“Yeah,” Pro said absently, going over the last few days in her head. “Malcolm Shaut!”
“What?
“He was one of the people who attempted to buy the plans. He writes software and made a lot of money at it.” She snapped her fingers. “Plus, his initials are MS.”
“How could he have a prototype?”
“He told Tom and me that he has a workshop in his basement. Omigod! He could be [email protected]!”
“But why hack NYPD and erase just that one email?”
“If he erased all of them, we’d notice it right away. He just erased the one that had his initials!” Pro stood up. “I’ve got to get dressed. Malcolm Shaut could be our killer, and I bet that’s where Max will be. That’s what his text meant about me looking at the emails.”
“Do you think so?” Elisha wondered.
Pro was on the move. “I’m jumping in the shower. Call Tom, let him know what we found.”
888
In record time, Pro was clean, dressed, and on the move. She was grateful her hair didn’t require a lot of work. Pro knew that her mother’s longer locks could take hours to manipulate into shape, due to the tight kink of it.
She grabbed a necessary second cup of coffee on her way to the subway. She headed downtown on the Number 1 local to get off at the 50th Street Station. Once above ground she called Chu as she walked from Broadway toward Ninth Avenue.
“Chu,” his voice came over the phone.
“It’s Pro. Are you heading for Shaut’s place?”
There was a heavy sigh over the phone. “I am walking there now. But I thought we had decided it would be best to withdraw from this case.”
“Did you talk to the LT?”
