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“So people don’t think you understand things?”
“I’m a kid. A kid, a kid, a kid,” she said in a singsong voice. “At least that’s what they think.”
“I bet Monk didn’t think that way about you, did he?”
“Monk treated me special.”
“How did he do that?”
“He trusted me.”
“That’s very impressive, an adult trusting someone your age. I bet that made you feel really good.” She shrugged noncommittally. “Do you remember the last time you saw Monk?” She shrugged again. “With a head like yours I bet if you try you’ll be able to do it easily.”
“I like remembering numbers better than anything. Numbers never change. A one is always a one and a ten is always a ten.”
“But numbers do change, don’t they? If you multiply them together, for example? Or add or subtract or divide them. And ten can be ten or ten thousand. And one can be one or one hundred. Right?”
Now Viggie focused squarely on him. “Right,” she said automatically.
“Or is it wrong?” Horatio queried.
“It’s wrong,” Viggie said. “Wrong, wrong, wrong.” She took another bite of her apple.
Horatio sat back. Quite a mynah bird. “You like number puzzles? There was one I learned in college. Would you like to play it? It’s sort of hard.”
Viggie put the apple down and said eagerly, “Not for me it won’t be.”
He said, “Suppose I’m a grandfather and I have a grandson who’s about as many days old as my son is weeks old and my grandson is as many months old as I am in years. My son, grandson and I together are 140 years old. How old am I in years?”
Horatio glanced at Alicia, who was working out the problem on a piece of paper she’d pulled from her purse. When he looked back at Viggie he said, “Would you like some paper and a pencil?”
“What for?”
“To work out the problem.”
“I’ve already worked it out. You’re eighty-four years old, but you don’t look it.”
A minute later Alicia looked up. On her piece of paper was a series of calculations with the number “84” written at the end. She smiled at Horatio and shook her head in a weary fashion. “I’m so clearly not in her league.”
Horatio looked back at Viggie, who sat there expectantly.
“Did you see all the numbers in your head?” he asked and she nodded before resuming her apple eating.
He gave her two large numbers and asked her to multiply them together. She did so in a matter of seconds. He gave her a division problem, which she solved almost instantly. Then he quizzed her with a square root exercise. Viggie answered them all within seconds and then looked bored as Horatio jotted some notes down on a piece of paper.
“I have another problem for you to think about,” he said.
She sat up straight though she still seemed bored.
Not a mynah bird. A well-trained dog, aren’t you, Viggie? “Suppose you had a best friend that you did everything with. Now suppose this best friend moved away and you’d never see her again. How would you feel?”
Viggie blinked once and then again. She started blinking so hard that her face scrunched up with the effort. Horatio felt like he was watching a computer whose circuit board was overheating.
“How would you feel, Viggie?” he asked again.
“There aren’t any numbers in the problem,” she said in a puzzled tone.
“I know, but not all questions have to do with numbers. Would you be happy, sad, ambivalent?”
