Now I only had two small problems to deal with. I had to find out which locker Edsen had used, and then get into it. Such trivialities wouldn’t have slowed down the NSA. The NSA. I still had an NSA badge in my wallet. It was certainly worth a try, seeing as how I had no other reasonable plan.
I found my way to the security office and stepped inside like I owned place. A burly young man, sporting a crew-cut and a bushy moustache, sat at a reception desk reading a comic book. Slowly, he raised his eyes and looked at me. “Yeah?”
He had the look and sound of a high-school drop-out who wasn’t quite bright enough to make the police force. And was probably still pissed off about it. He wasn’t someone I’d want to come to blows with. Hopefully, he’d heard of the NSA.
“Do you have cameras on all the storage locker areas in the airport?”
“That’s restricted information.”
I pulled out the phoney NSA badge and held it up to his face. “Not from me.”
The burly guard studied the badge. I couldn’t tell whether he was trying to decide what to do, or just having had a hard time sounding out all the words. After a few moments, he looked back up at me. Apparently he had heard of the agency.
“What can I do for you, Agent Murphy?”
“A criminal we’ve been after flew out of this airport two days ago. He left a piece of contraband in one of the storage lockers. I need to find out which one, then get it open.”
“What’s a contraband?”
“It’s kind of like a box. I’ll show you when we find it.”
The thought of helping a real government agent seemed to brighten up my stupid friend. He made a call and led me deeper into the security area. After several minutes, I was introduced to a supervisor, Ms Hatch, a woman with biceps bigger than my thighs. “I hate to inconvenience you, Agent Murphy, but I need to take a look your identification. Security procedures, you understand.”
I held up the badge. Ms Hatch looked it over several times. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to call in and check your credentials. Not that I don’t trust you, Agent Murphy. It’s just not as hard as it used to be to get bogus identification badges.”
She was calling my bluff. My pair of threes and I were looking shaky. The only thing I could do now was take a cue from Jackson Cross. I decided to grit my teeth and lie through them. “Look, Ms Hatch. I haven’t got time to dick around with a peon wannabe cop like you. That act may play in Peoria, but not in the big leagues. If you don’t give me the information I’m here for, I’ll have your ass fired so hard, you’ll smell like charcoal for a month.”
Ms Hatch obviously wasn’t accustomed to having such a tone taken with her. Her eyes glared for a moment, then she backed off. If I were on the up and up, I could certainly make my threats good. She seemed to decide it wasn’t worth the risk. “Sorry. I know the NSA doesn’t have to work through procedures like we do here. I’ll clear everything for you. Let me know if I can help.” “Oh, I’ll let you know. All I need is access to video tapes and a technician to assist me.”
“Yes sir. Right this way.”
Ms hatch led me into another room and set me up with an extremely intimidated computer geek. I told him what I needed, and he came back with six video disks, one for each of the storage locker areas around gate C-16. We spent the next hour viewing the disks, checking all the footage between 2:30 and 4:00 p.m.. We were onto the fourth disk when I finally saw what I was looking for. The tall, thin figure of Oliver Edsen approached and opened one of the lockers. He pulled a small duffel bag from under a coat draped over his arm. Looking around nervously, he slid the bag into the locker, inserted several coins, then locked the door and removed key.
I turned to the technician and asked which locker had been used. He checked the disk, then reran the footage. It was locker 164 02. In keeping with my NSA persona, I didn’t thank him and left. I returned to Ms Hatch’s office and informed her that locker number 16402 was to be open for me immediately.
Twenty minutes later, I was outside the airport, a small duffel bag in my hand and a big skip in my step.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Back at my office, I called Fitzpatrick. “It’s good to hear from you, Mr Murphy. You’re a difficult man to pin down. Difficult indeed.”
“That’s what my girlfriends have always said.”
“I’m sure. Incidently, I received your package. I’m sure you have a tale to tell.”
“Frankly, I’d just as soon forget about it. I’ve had more pleasant experiences.”
Fitzpatrick didn’t press the matter. “So, what news have you?”
“I’ve got two of the three remaining boxes. Do you know a man named Oliver Edsen?”
“I know of him. Did he give you one of the boxes?”
“In a manner of speaking. I think we should meet.”
“I agree. Thomas seems to have set things up so that all the boxes must be present in order to assemble the complete picture. Nonetheless, perhaps four boxes will be enough.” the eagerness in his voice was unmistakable.
“Do you want to meet here at my office?”
“No… I think you should come to the Savoy. Perhaps we should invite all those involved. It seems that Thomas wanted everyone to be present. Can you contact them?”
The thought of confronting Witt again didn’t appeal to me, but Fitzpatrick was right. “I’ll see what I can do. I know that Oliver Edsen won’t be able to come.”
“I’d prefer to have Mr Edsen in attendance, but I’m afraid we haven’t the luxury of waiting.”
“I’ll try to reach the others and get back to you.”
Fitzpatrick disconnected. I got out by notebook and found Witt’s number. The limey informed me that Mr Witt was not at home and might not be back for several days. I wondered if he was on my trail. My next call went to Regan.
“How did it go?”
“Fine. I got another box.”
“Wonderful! Is that it? Do we have all of them?”
“No. There’s still the one stolen from Ellis at the Cosmic Connection. I’m hoping that we can work around it.”
“So, now we get the other boxes and open them, right?”
“Yeah, but there’s something you need to know first.”
Regan’s smile faded. “What?”
“Someone else is involved in this.”
“Who?”
“An old friend of your father. Gordon Fitzpatrick. He’s the one who got me mixed up in all this in the first place.”
“I don’t intend on splitting this three ways.”
“Fitzpatrick isn’t in this for the money. He’s in it because he was concerned for your father.”
“I don’t care why he’s in this. The Pandora’s Box, or whatever it is, is mine. It belonged to my father, and now it’s mine. I’m not going to let anyone take it away from me.”
“No one’s taking it away from you. That’s why I called. Fitzpatrick and I are going to meet with all the others who were contacted by your father.”
“Why do the others need to be there? Why don’t you just get the boxes and meet me?”
“Your father set it up so all the boxes had to be opened together. I think the reason he did it was so that everyone involved would be a witness to whatever it is we’re going to see.”
Regan obviously didn’t like the idea.
“C’mon Regan, no one’s going to steal this from you. The only hang-up would come if we find out that your father’s work is too dangerous to let out of the bag. And if that’s the case, I’m sure you’ll agree with everyone else on a course of action.”
Regan seemed to relax a little. “You’re still on my side, aren’t you?”