of the female warders got nervous, ran after him and grabbed his arm. Sydney turned into the woman and snarled. She backed up so fast she fell down. Her hand went to a large walnut-gripped pistol worn forward like a gunfighter.
“Put your hand on me again you Nazi bitch and I’ll see you wearing a uniform the color of hers.”
Jean, who had been observing nervously, watched Sydney undergo a remarkable change. Easy going, eccentric, middle-aged, disappeared, to be replaced by something visibly dangerous.
“I’ll explain this just once, Miss.” His voice was filled with disbelief at her gender. “I am here as a legal aide to Miss Heely. You are hindering me in that pursuit. The Penal code is very clear regarding my rights and Miss Heely’s rights. I want to consult with my client privately. I will ask this gentleman to be a witness that you are preventing me from doing that.”
Sydney took another step forward and the Incredible Hulkess scrambled to her feet and backed up again.
To Miss Heely he seemed to have grown a foot taller. The guard blanched, kept backing up and said nothing. He turned and walked to the other guard standing next to Miss Heely.
“You too, beautiful.”
For a moment an ugly look began to form on her face. She thought about it, then walked away. Sydney took a breath, shrugged his shoulders like the boxer he had once been and sat down across from Jean.
The closed expression was gone from her face. She looked stunned and slightly hopeful.
“One wonders what they dream of, what peculiar fantasy occupies their thoughts. Miss Heely, I apologize for the fuss, and the bad language, but I had to be certain I was communicating. In these circumstances I find short tuetonic words to be most effective. This is going to take some time, and I don’t want those Neanderthals breathing on our food.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He stood up and held out his hand. “I am Sydney Constant Lee, Mysteries Unlimited Ltd.”
She took his hand and murmured. “I am so pleased that you could come.” Very formal, very proper. A hint of a smile formed at the corners of her mouth.
“Constant?”
She’s really quite pretty, Sydney thought, even now. “The less said about my middle name the better. It’s one of those things over which one has no control until it’s too late.”
She started to speak. Sydney held up his hand. “I know, you have a lot to tell me, but first we eat. You’re too thin.”
The tentative smile, more an attitude than a physical fact, poked through again.
“Before I came to this place I struggled, unsuccessfully for this look.”
Sydney shook his head. “For what it’s worth, I liked your figure the way it was. C’mon, let’s eat.”
She winced, unable to have the compliment. A half hour later she sat back, sighed and looked down at her waist.
“God, I haven’t eaten like this since before the trial.”
“Good. I have tea in the thermos or more ‘champagne’,” he pointed to the bottle of apple juice.
As he leaned forward to pour the juice he felt something under the table.
“Damn!”
She looked alarmed. “What is it?”
He reached under the table, felt around, then jerked his hand toward his body. It was the size of his thumb nail and metallic with a matte black case.
“A bug, a listening device. Hummph! Someone’s either very worried about you,” he looked toward the administration buildings across the picnic area, “or me. This is very illegal by the way.” He turned it over and over, examining it closely. “It’s a Cony. Nice equipment, and relatively inexpensive.
“I’ve got an idea.” Sydney stood up and spoke in a loud voice. “Any lawyers here?”
Two guys at two separate tables looked up and nodded. “I just found this little goodie under my table. If there’s one under mine...”
There was a mad scramble as the lawyers and everyone else began searching under their tables. Sure enough there was one under every table. Someone wanted to be very sure.
There was a lot of cursing and threats to sue. The guards watched nervously but were afraid to take them away from the lawyers.
Sydney held it over his cup of tea, gave her an exaggerated wink and let it drop. “Clumsy ole me. Probably the FBI installed them, or the States Attorney.
“Miss Heely, you write a nice letter. Pretty handwriting too. Don’t see the Palmer Method much any more. I did quite a bit of checking before I came. I understand why the FBI is hanging on. Ninety million recovered would mean happy faces on the wall and promotions all around. So tell me, where do you think it went?”
“Hell, I don’t know, into the electronic woodwork, I suppose.”
Her voice held despair. It was obviously a question she had asked herself every day since her arrest and trial.
“Miss Heely, that’s got to stop. You had enough hope to write the letter. You’ve got to be sharp, angry. You aren’t dead, so if you don’t mind, start acting alive.”
“I said, I don’t know!” There was a fine executive snap to her voice.
“That’s better. I bet that tone struck terror into your juniors. Remember it. You were the youngest Vice President of a major bank in the United States. You may not know the specifics, but I’ll bet you know the possibilities. That was your business. You know computers and you know banks.
“Oh, by the way, I took the liberty of checking out that investigating firm you tried to hire, the one you said backed off. Guess who their bank is?” He nodded at her surprise.
“Right. Bad luck. No way you could have known. They were in the middle of an expansion and short of capital. But the real question isn’t why, but who told them to stay clear.”
“You really have been digging, haven’t you,” her surprise was obvious.
Sydney frowned.
She went on quickly. “Oh, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset with me. I read this article about a company called MYSTERIES UNLIMITED LTD. in the Sunday Times. It was very tongue in cheek. The woman who wrote it said she never met a more bizarre bunch of loonies in her entire life...and how many companies have a Yellow Brick Road leading to their place of business? I’m sorry, I’ve told my story so many times I have a hard time believing it myself.”
“I understand, but that’s over. I want you to do several things right away.” He ticked them off on his fingers.
“First, write a letter telling your lawyer to give me a complete transcript of the trial. Everything, every scrap of paper they accumulated before, during and after. As soon as you’ve done that, write another letter officially firing them. Second, I want you to write a bio of every executive at the
