[MD2, Miami PD headquarters, 5:50PM]

Paul sat unobtrusively in the corner of the room, watching and listening while a very scared and very pregnant woman named Elizabeth Huntley gave a description of the man who had raped her to one of the sketch artists. He was bored. Guessing whether or not the witness was going to go into labor in the middle of the session had ceased to be amusing after about thirty seconds. He was also anxious. He hadn’t heard from Hirsh yet, and lot of good a sketch would do him if his old friend hadn’t been able to get through to the director of the project. Maybe, he thought, he should give Hirsh a call, prod him along a bit.

He stood up, stretching for effect as he did so, nodded to the sketch artist, and headed for the door. In the corridor, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He knew before his hand got there that he wouldn’t find it.

*****

Newt watched in fascination as Maria Nunez worked with the sketch artist. As time and the sketch progressed, she had moved from her seat at the table, and now was practically leaning over the artist’s shoulder, pointing out the slightest flaw and considering every stroke of the pencil on paper. Newt half expected her to suddenly say, ‘Oh, just give me that,’ and finish the sketch herself. She seemed nervous, but she was amazingly composed, and her determination was infectious. Newt didn’t have the slightest doubt that this session would accomplish its purpose. The sketch would be perfect, or it wouldn’t be at all. Maria would see to that.

A frown of consternation crossed Maria’s face. "No, no, no," she said, "the eyebrows are all wrong. They were bushy, but not that bushy. And they didn’t stand up like that. They were smoother."

Newt stood up and moved closer. He didn’t want to get in the way, but he couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at the portrait that was forming. A peek was all he got before his cell phone rang, startling everyone. But, he realized, it wasn’t his cell phone. His was still in the car with a dead battery. He’d forgotten to give Agent Moran’s phone back to him after he used it to call Kate.

"Sorry about that," he said, smiling apologetically for the interruption. "I’ll just get that out in the hall." He opened the door to find Paul about to come in. He produced the ringing phone from his pocket and handed it to Paul. "I think its for you," he said.

*****

[Miami field office, 6:05PM]

There were a lot of things about this case that bothered Kate. Too many to count, in fact. But foremost among them was its purpose. Bad enough that she’d played an unwitting part in it. Maybe that would be easier to accept, though, if only she knew why.

She was in the middle of running a computer search on the names in the files Docker had given them. The first two men, she had discovered, were dead, one of them under rather mysterious circumstances that might be an X-File in and of itself. The third one was somewhat harder to track down. There was nothing on him in the FBI database or anywhere else she had thought to look. Finally, out of frustration and because she couldn’t think of anything else to do, she called up an internet search page and typed in the name. She was shocked when she got a hit.

"University of Miami," she muttered in wonder. She clicked on the link and waited.

"Did you say something," September asked.

Kate held up a hand as she watched the page spring to life, complete with photos of the faculty of the biology department. She scrolled down until she found the one she was looking for. When she did, she gasped. "I think I know why Paul stopped at the university this morning," she said. "Flynn, take a look at this."

Not just Flynn, but everyone, gathered around the computer screen. While Flynn focused on the photograph, September read the brief bio that accompanied it.

"Dr. Anton Hirsh," September read aloud. "He was.. formerly on staff at Memorial Hospital! Research fellow in genetics.."

"More than that, I think," Kate said. "Flynn, are you seeing what I’m seeing?"

Flynn nodded. "If you mean that he could be Kaleb Lewandowski’s twin brother."

"That’s what I mean," Kate said, flashing a smile at September. "Looks like you were right on target. Again. How are you doing with your search?"

Sharlyn sighed. "We’ve been all through the records. All but two of the victims had some prior experience with the police, mostly traffic tickets, things like that. But there’s no one officer who had contact with all or even most of them. There was one, Detective Peter Narrin, who’s had contact with three of the victims, but that’s the best we could come up with."

*****

Paul experienced a moment of blind rage - which he covered exceptionally well. It was something he’d had a lot of practice doing, and after all, the kid hadn’t meant to keep the phone. Or had he, Paul wondered, but only for a second. Newt was young, which didn’t automatically rule out sneaky and treacherous, but it did mitigate it slightly. If it had been a trick, Paul was sure he would have seen through it.

He clapped Newt on the shoulder and accepted the offered phone. "Thanks, son. Slight mix-up there, huh?"

Newt smiled apologetically while Paul answered the phone. Paul frowned and gave the phone a dirty looked, then smiled.

"Well," he said, "I guess if it was important, they’ll call back. How’re things going in there?"

Newt glanced back into the room and closed the door. "Good," he said. "Miss Nunez is determined to give us an accurate description, down to the smallest detail."

"That’s fortunate," Paul said, "because, confidentially, the Huntley woman is so jittery, I’m not sure we can trust anything she says. Buy you a coffee," he asked, indicating the vending machines down the hall. "It’s lousy out of those things, but its hot."

Newt looked back at the door, torn. He was terribly interested to see how things progressed in there, but he was also terribly hungry, and while coffee wasn’t exactly food, it might quiet the rumblings, at least for a few minutes. "Sure," he said finally.

They went down the hall and bought two coffees. Then a thoughtful look crossed Paul’s face. "I suppose," he said, "I ought to check in with the office, see how they’re coming along. And maybe arrange to meet them for dinner when we’re done here," he added with a wink at Newt, whose stomach had provided a timely rumble.

Paul moved several steps away to make the call. Newt wondered briefly why he would want to be out of earshot to call the office, but dismissed it. Maybe he had something he wanted to say to Kate, and wanted a little privacy to say it. If so, he couldn’t argue with that.

*****

[Home of Dr. Anton Hirsh, 6:09PM]

Hirsh sat at the desk in his study, staring at the phone, willing Paul to call him. He tapped the end of a pencil against the desk blotter. Why hadn’t he answered his phone? What was going on? He thought about calling again, but why should two minutes make a difference. He’d give it ten. If Paul hadn’t called by then, he’d give it another try. Out of frustration, he flung the pencil at the wall.

Finally, the phone rang. Hirsh lunged for it. "Moran?" he asked into the receiver.

[That’s a fine way to answer your phone,] came Paul’s voice. [What if it hadn’t been me?]

"At this point, I’m not sure it would matter. We’ve got problems. Big problems." He looked up at the man seated across the desk from him for confirmation, which he didn’t really need, and got a nod.

[Talk to me,] Paul said.

"Does the name Sparks mean anything to you?"

[That reporter with that trash newspaper?]

"Think back a little farther than that, old friend. Although at the time, you may have known him, as I did, as test subject A-1."

[Holy shit,] Paul gasped into the phone.

"Exactly. Father, by normal mean, mind you, of that reporter. He’s here, and he’s not happy."

*****

[Miami field office, 6:10PM]

"Did you say Narrin," Kate asked, staring wide-eyed at Sharlyn. She knew she’d been distracted on this case, openly admitted it. But she didn’t think she’d been so distracted that she could have let something so important slip her mind.

Sharlyn nodded.

"Does that name mean something to you," Flynn asked.

Kate nodded. "I talked to him earlier today," she said. "He called about a man they’d picked up on that APB."


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