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partner, nodding in the direction of the vidwall. "I might mention that, since
all these bugs were bugging away when the message came in, the OCO also knows
all about your secret love life."
"Huh?"
"Replay the last message, por favor," Gomez instructed the wall.
Alicia Bower's image materialized on the screen. She was wearing a pale green
tunic dress and her auburn hair was tied back with a twist of dark green
ribbon. She was standing in what looked to be a public vidphone booth at a sky
port "Jake, it's very important that I talk to you," she said, concern
sounding in her voice. "I've just found out something and I think it may tie
in with the case you're working on.
I'm going to be in DC on business today. Meet me at my rooms at the
Jefferson Hotel tonight at seven. Please."
As the image faded, Gomez asked, "Think she actually knows something?"
"I'd better go over there and find out." From his jacket pocket he took a
small plasticard. "Which means you'll have to attend these festivities alone."
"Were we going to a party."
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Jake tossed him the admittance chit. "A fundraiser for the War Museum and--"
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"One of my favorite causes."
"And Karla Maxfield's going to attend," continued Jake. "It's probable she
knows something about what's been going on." He filled Gomez in on what he'd
picked up from Sulman, adding, "I followed up on this some.
Karla was indeed down there in Managua for most of the period that
Maxfield, Jr. and Eve were in town."
"If she really knows anything of importance, amigo, she's got to be on
somebody's list, too."
"Yeah, you might mention that to her. Might prompt her to confide in you."
"That coupled with the well known Gomez charm ought to do it."
Picking up one of the disabled listening devices, Jake tossed it in his palm a
few times. "What'd you find out today?"
Gomez told him about Timecheck's report on Dr. Morgana.
"Researching the lady's career on my own thereafter," added the
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detective, "I discovered that she's very likely been tied in with no less than
five other assassinations over the past couple years."
"You come up with anything as to what Maxfield, Jr. knew?
Or anything on Surrogate 13?"
"Nada, nothing at all."
"Maybe Karla Maxfield has some answers."
Leaning against the wall and folding his arms, Gomez said,
"You know Alicia Bower much better than I do."
"True."
"She's really got some information to pass on--this isn't just an excuse to
get you over there?"
Jake grinned. "I doubt it, Sid," he answered. "Unlike you, I
don't have the sort of charm that drives women goofy."
Tm S CUV, IT ROB OX was sitting in the hotel corridor, leaning against the
wall, legs spread wide and coppery head tilted far to the right.
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His left eye was dangling from its socket and an acrid plume of sooty black
smoke was drifting up from a large jagged rent in the top of his skull.
The door to Alicia's suite was standing nearly a foot open just beyond the
slumped guard.
Drawing his stun gun Jake eased along the hallway of the Jefferson
Hotel.
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After listening for several seconds outside the doorway, Jake lunged and
booted the door completely open.
The large living room was empty, an armchair was toppled over on its back with
its legs in the air. Out the window you could see the
Washington Monument glowing white in the night.
Jake stopped in the center of the big room, gun ready.
Then, slowly, he crossed to the bedroom.
No one was in there. Another chair lay upside down against the wall and a
cosmetics case, its contents scattered, had fallen in front of it. The bedside
vidphone was on the fritz, the screen glowing red and giving off harsh
crackling sounds.
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Beside the bed Jake noticed a fragment of paper, about two inches square. He
picked it up, frowning. "Funny thing to find on her bedroom floor," he
observed.
The scrap was from a very old newspaper, probably from way back in the
twentieth century. His frown deepening, Jake very carefully slipped the
fragment into his jacket pocket.
He went carefully through the rest of the hotel suite, but found no trace of
Alicia.
T-m MARTIAL MUSIC hit Gomez while he was still strolling along
Independence Avenue a good block and a half from the War Museum. He was
wearing the most conservative jacket he'd brought along with him from SoCal.
The five-story plastiglass, metal and neo marble building had been sprayed
with red, white and blue lite paint for tonight and it glowed and flashed
against the clear night. Sitting up in a huge gondola that hung suspended from
a hover liner was the Military Service Robot Band.
Its brassy music, vastly amplified, flowed down across the night sky.
Several dozen people in formal attire were climbing the entrance ramp toward
the high arched entryway as Gomez reached the War Museum. A
pretty blonde android held up a hand in a halt gesture.
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"Your ticket, please, sir."
Smiling, he handed her the plasticard Jake'd given him. "Here you are,
bonita."
"All in order," the android said, smiling back. "You'll be happy to know that
Vice President McCracklin will be making a special holographic appearance here
later tonight."
"That truly cheers me up." He continued up the ramp.
"I hope you won't think me rude," spoke a tall silvery blonde woman whom he
was passing.
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I might, it's hard to say at this point."
"I wanted to ask you about your.." um... coat I guess you'd call it."
"Si?"
"What color is it?"
"Blue."
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"Blue usually doesn't have flecks of... um... pink in it."
"This is," he explained patiently, "SoCal Pacific Ocean Sunset
Blue, ma'am."
"Ah, yes, that explains it." Nodding, she moved away from him.
There were at least two hundred guests milling and mingling in the huge foyer.
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