In addition to the cries from the infant, Pittman heard an announcer.
“Watching TV while you feed your baby?”
“The news.” Brian’s expression was sober. “CNN.”
“Ah.”
Brian’s expression became even more solemn.
So he knows, Pittman thought. “Anything interesting? Seems to me I heard something about Jonathan Millgate. That reminds me of seven years ago when you helped me get his unlisted telephone numbers.”
Brian’s eyes narrowed. Inwardly he seemed to flinch. “What do you want?” he asked a third time.
“A favor.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Why does anybody ask a favor? I need help.”
“That’s not what I meant. Why should I do you a favor?”
“That’s a tough one, Brian. I guess because you’re a human being. Incidentally, your child’s starting to climb out of that high chair.”
Brian swung, saw that the baby was in danger of falling, and hurried to grab it. The baby cried harder.
Pittman stepped in and shut the door. “Boy or girl?”
“Hey, I didn’t say you could-”
“What have you got there? A jar of apricot baby food? Let me help feed… Boy or girl?”
“Boy. But I didn’t say you-”
“How old?”
“Almost a year. But-”
“Wonderful-looking boy. What’s his name?”
“Daniel. Now, look, I-”
“Brian, I’m in trouble, okay? From the expression in your eyes, I think you know I’m in trouble. I think you just heard something about it on CNN. I bet you said to yourself, ‘No, that can’t be the same guy who interviewed me. It can’t be the same guy I did a favor for and got him Jonathan Millgate’s unlisted telephone numbers. Matthew Pittman. Yeah, that was his name.’ And then all of a sudden, here I am knocking on your door. A lot to adjust to, isn’t it?”
Brian held the baby and looked nervous.
“Are you married, Brian? Where’s your-?”
“She’s gone for groceries.”
“Well, I look forward to meeting her.” Pittman set down his gym bag. “I wasn’t kidding. Let me help feed your son.”
Holding the baby, Brian stepped slightly backward.
“Brian, I think you misunderstand. I’m not here to make trouble. All I need is a small favor, and then I’m out of here.”
Suspicion fought with hope. “Do what?”
“Nice apartment. Love the plants. Clean. Roomy.” Pittman opened a door and found what was obviously Brian’s workroom. “Ah. I see you still keep up your interest in computers.”
“I’m a programmer for Nintendo.”
“And how about hacking, Brian? Do you still do any of that?”
“That was years ago. Since I met Gladys, I… Wait a minute. You’re asking me to…”
“And then I’m gone.”
Brian’s cheeks quivered with tension. “Nintendo would fire me if they found out I was hacking. Gladys would have my nuts.”
“They wouldn’t know. All I need is one piece of information, Brian. Then I promise I’m out of here. With luck, before Gladys gets back.”
The baby squirmed. Brian eased him into the high chair. When he tried to spoon some of the pureed apricots into his mouth, the baby knocked the spoon and sprayed apricots onto Brian’s clean shirt.
“Here, I was always good at this.” Pittman made a face at the baby and immediately got its attention. He crouched so that his eyes were even with the baby’s. He leaned forward so that his nose touched the baby’s, but he kept his eyes open, noticing that the baby did the same. He pulled back and opened his mouth.
The baby opened his mouth.
He spooned the apricots into his mouth.
“How the hell did you do that?” Brian asked. “Strangers always make him cry, but you…”
“I had lots of practice.” The baby reminded Pittman of how Jeremy had looked as a child. He suddenly felt melancholy.
“They say you killed him,” Brian said.
“Millgate? No. That isn’t true.”
“And a man in your apartment, and your boss at the paper.”
“The man in my apartment pulled a gun on me. We scuffled. He fell and broke his neck. As for my boss…” Pittman hesitated, his throat tight with grief. “No, I didn’t do anything to Burt. It was someone else.”
“And they say you’re hysterical, out of control. That you’re planning to kill yourself and you don’t care who you take with you.”
“No. That isn’t true either, Brian.” Depression overwhelmed him. “I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”
“Then you’re not suicidal?”
Pittman looked at the baby.
“Well?” Brian asked.
“That’s about the only thing that is true.”
The kitchen became silent, even the baby.
“They say your son died.”
Pittman swallowed and avoided the issue. “I really need this favor, Brian. I’m in a lot of trouble that I don’t deserve, and I want to set it right.”
“Why? I don’t see why it should matter if you’re planning to kill yourself.”
“Yes. I’ve been asking myself that a lot.… I think”-he swallowed again-“it’s because all along I planned to go out cleanly. But suddenly everything has gotten very messy.”
Feeling pressure in his throat, Pittman spooned more apricots into the baby’s mouth.
Brian stared at him. “What the hell happened?”
Pittman frowned toward the floor. Then he told Brian everything.
22
Brian kept shaking his head, alternately bewildered and dismayed. “This is…”
“I swear to you, it’s the truth.”
“Look, you can’t do anything about this on your own. You have to go to the police. Tell them what you just told me.”
“If you have trouble believing me, would they?”
“But you don’t have a choice.”
“No. I don’t think the police could keep me safe.”
“Man, oh man, do you realize what you sound like?”
“Who was it said that paranoia was the only sane attitude to have these days?”
Brian looked appalled. “And you expect me to…”
“Get me into some computer files that I otherwise wouldn’t have access to.”
“Like?”
“At my newspaper. I have to show ID and sign in to enter the building. A guard or someone else would recognize me. They’d call the police. But I know the passwords that allow access from an outside telephone.”
Brian looked somewhat less threatened. “That’s not hard to do. In fact, it’s almost a legitimate request. Under other circumstances, it would be legal.”
“Yes.” Pittman had fed the baby and now was changing its diaper.
“And that’s all?”
“Well…”
“There’s something else?”
“I need to get into the computer system for the city’s criminal records.”
“Jesus.”
“Isn’t there a way to route the call through a system of long-distance relays so the call can’t be traced before I get the information I need?”
“Yes, but…”
Pittman turned as someone opened the door.
The woman-a redhead, severely thin, with stern features-looked alarmed at the sight of Pittman holding the baby. “What are…?”
“Gladys, this is a friend of mine,” Brian said.
“Ed Garner,” Pittman said, hoping that if he used a different name, she wouldn’t associate him with the photographs of him on CNN or in the newspapers.
Gladys marched to a kitchen counter, set down two bags of groceries, and took possession of her baby. Her pinched expression suggested that she felt Pittman wasn’t worthy enough to have touched her offspring. “Ed Garner?” She squinted at Brian. “You never mentioned him before.”
“Well, I…”
“We were buddies in college,” Pittman said. “We loved to fool around with computers.”
“Computers? You weren’t a hacker, I hope.” Her voice had the grating sound of a knife being sharpened.
“Never had the nerve.”
“Brian had too much nerve. He went to prison for it.” Her eyes glared.
“Anyway,” Pittman said, trying to change the subject, “I heard Brian was living in this area. I’ve got relatives not far from here, so I figured I’d drop in. Brian was just about to show me some of the stuff he’s doing for Nintendo.”