lying.
There was still no one else in the shop. It was my turn to decide if I wanted to confide in her. “You asked if I had a case. I’m actually investigating an old one: the fate of Willem Van Dyke.”
Her eyes opened wider.
“I see you know the name,” I said.
“Oh, yes. He came to Mars on the second expedition with my grandfather and Simon. Horrible man; tried to sell all the fossils out from under them.”
“That’s what your grandfather said?”
“Yes. Why do you care what happened to Van Dyke?”
“I have a client who doesn’t like loose ends.”
“Was that him? Your client? Going into the back?”
I nodded.
“He looked in bad shape.”
“He’ll be okay.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rory Pickover.”
“That was Mr. Pickover? Wow.”
“Yeah. His face needs a little work.”
“I’ll say. Why’s he interested in this?”
“You know he’s a scientist, right? He wants to find any fossils from the Alpha that might have gone into private collections, and he figures Van Dyke might be the key to that.”
“Ah,” said Reiko. “Well, maybe I can help, too. The diary mentions some names.”
“Whose diary?”
“My grandfather’s.”
“He kept a diary of the second expedition?”
“Yes, I believe so. And of the first, as well. I’ve never seen those, but . . .”
“But what? What diary are you referring to?”
“There was one of the third mission.”
“Really?” I said. “But wouldn’t that have been lost when their ship burned up on re-entry?”
“No. My grandfather beamed it home to my grandmother just before he and Simon left Mars. Of course, they were going to spend the months of the return voyage in hibernation, and only thaw out to handle re-entering Earth’s atmosphere. But he broadcast the diary just before he left Mars—in terms of his conscious time, that was less than a day before he died.”
“And you have copies of this diary?”
“Well, a copy, yes. A bound printout of it.”
I felt my eyebrows go up. “On paper?”
“Uh-huh. My grandmother never wanted it to get out; parts of the diary are very personal, and you know how things take on a life of their own once they get online. But she wanted me to know where I’d come from, and who my grandfather had been. So about a year ago, just before she died, she had a bound printout of it made, then erased the files. I have the one and only copy.”
“And it’s here on Mars?”
She didn’t answer.
“Is it?” I said.
Another hesitation, then a small nod.
“That’s what the thief was looking for,” I said. There was no point in raising my tone to make it a question; it was obviously true.
She nodded again meekly.
“Does the diary reveal the location of the Alpha?”
“No. If it did, I wouldn’t be working here. But, as I said, he mentions some collectors he’d done business with in the past.”
“Who else knows about—”
Just then, the front door slid open, and an elderly man shuffled in. “Excuse me,” Reiko said, and she went over to speak to him. From what I overheard, he was a prospector trying to decide between spending the money he’d made from his finds either on transferring or on passage back home.
I pulled out my tab and looked at the encyclopedia entry on Denny O’Reilly, particularly the stuff on his personal life. There was no mention of a mistress, although he had indeed been married at the time he’d died, and that woman, who had been dead herself for a dozen years, had inherited his estate; she’d doubtless had the money to transfer at some point, but had been killed unexpectedly in a plane crash.
The elderly customer was looking at a sample body in the window display. The man happened to be black and the body was white, but its build was similar to his own.
Since she was still busy, and since Rory would probably be a while longer, I stepped outside onto the street and used my wrist phone to call Dougal McCrae.
“Hello, Alex,” he said from the tiny screen.
“Hey, Mac. Did you guys investigate an incident at the home of a Reiko Takahashi recently?”
He looked away from the camera. “Two secs.” Then his freckled face turned back to me. “Yeah, a B&E. Kaur handled it. Strange; nothing taken.”
“What can you tell me about Miss Takahashi?”
He looked off camera again. “No wants, no warrants. Life-support tax paid in full. Came here three months ago. Works at NewYou—you’ve met her, remember?”
I nodded. “Thanks, Mac. Talk to you later.”
“One thing while I’ve got you, Alex.”
“Sure.”
“We’ve had a couple of missing-persons reports.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. A woman named Lakshmi