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“Nope. If Mick didn’t want them to know, it wasn’t my place to tell them. Plus, you think I want a black belt Olympian dead-eye shot pissed at me, sister or not?”
“She scares me too. Anything else you can think of that might help me?”
“Just give me my little sister back, Horatio. You do that, you’ve got a friend in Tampa for life.”
CHAPTER
15
LEN RIVEST LED SEAN AROUND the grounds of Babbage Town. Behind the mansion was a network of buildings of various sizes. Sean observed that every door had a security panel next to it. One of the largest buildings covered about a quarter of an acre and was surrounded by a seven-foot fence. It had what looked to be a grain silo attached to it.
Sean pointed to the silo. “What’s in that thing?”
“Water. They need it to cool some equipment.”
“And in the other buildings?”
“Other things.”
“And which one did Monk Turing work in? And what did he do here?”
“I was hoping I could avoid saying.”
“Len, I was under the impression that you hired us to help find out how Monk Turing died. If you don’t want us to do that, just say so and I can get on back home and stop wasting everybody’s time. I’ve just spent a half-hour being told nothing by that Champ guy, I don’t intend on repeating the process with you.”
Rivest dug his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Sean. I know you were at the Service with Joan, and I don’t like playing cat and mouse like this with a fellow fed. Between you and me I think the powers-that-be are having second thoughts about private investigators being here.”
“And who are the powers-that-be?”
“If I knew that I’d tell you.”
Sean gaped. “Are you telling me you don’t know who you’re working for?”
“If someone has enough money they can cover their tracks pretty well. My paycheck says I work for Babbage Town, LLC. I got curious once and tried to track down the corporate identity a little further and was told any other attempt to do the same would result in my ass being canned. This job pays far better than anything I’ve ever had before. I got two kids in college. I don’t want to blow it.”
“So how do you know they’re having second thoughts?”
“I get private communications on my computer each day. I told them you were already on the plane, and that you should at least have a chance to take a crack at this thing. Because it might get dicey.”
“Because of the FBI’s and CIA’s involvement?”
Rivest scowled. “Camp Peary of all damn places. But if you can solve it fast and hopefully show it has nothing to do with Babbage Town then maybe our problems go away.”
“But if it does have to do with Babbage Town?”
“Then I probably start looking for another job.”
“Champ Pollion thinks it has to do with some big conspiracy orchestrated by the military-industrial complex.”
Rivest groaned. “Please, I’ve got enough problems without wasting time on bullshit theories coming from that geek.”
“Okay, let’s focus on the basics. How did Monk Turing die?”
“Gunshot wound to the head. Gun was next to the body.”
“Where exactly was he found at Camp Peary?”
“Extreme eastern end of the complex that fronts the York River. You would’ve passed it coming down here if you’d looked across the water.”
