Ask Not For Whom The Panther Prowls (10 page)

They looked at each other and discussed for a
few moments, then one replied, “We're applying for the Master's
program.”

“Why don't you follow me? I'm heading that
way.”

We chatted a bit as I helped them thread the
maze of students who were hurrying to class, the maze of the
professionally indigent, and the maze of vehicles whose frustrated
drivers were preparing to force their way through the students.
They had taken advantage of an offer to come to the US as maids,
but it hadn't been as nice as they had been led to believe.

I said, “I'm sorry to hear that. Where are you
living?”

“With our master's in a big house.” I figured
that. Only the tip of the one-percent could hire a foreign
maid.

The other one added, “In Buckhead. This is our
afternoon off. The first one in a month.”

I don't know the labor laws and how they apply
to maids, but that didn't seem fully legal. So I asked, “How will
you be able to attend classes?”

“We'll leave once we are admitted.”

This struck me as optimistic, but not
impossible. I replied, “Will you be able to quit?”

They conferred again, and one smiled at me,
“They took our passports, but I found them when cleaning the
master's bedroom. We can leave when we want to.”

I guided them to the elevators and onto the
sixth floor, then left them with the director of graduate studies.
In the meantime, I called Laura.

“Will, what is it?”

“Do you know who works immigration?”

“I might, why?”

“I ran into two Bengali girls, like the ones we
met in Miami. They're working as maids in Buckhead.”

“So what. Lot's of people work as maids.”

“I don't think they're here legally. Their
employer held their passports and -”

“Wait. How did you run into them?”

“They were asking directions to the Physics
office. They wanted to apply to the graduate program.”

“And you just happened to be there?”

“I was returning from class. You know how the
streets get then. They were completely lost.”

“OK, so what do you want me to do about it?”

“Arthur's not going to want me to follow them,
but is there someone Federal who can? They're in Dr. Stott's office
right now.”

“Get their address and passport information if
you can. Fax it to me.”

“Laura, you're a lifesaver. I'll do that.”

I returned to Dr. Stott's office and they were
still discussing their options. I knocked on the door and joined
the conversation. “You know,” I added, “it would be helpful if we
had a copy of your passport and address. I'll make it while you're
talking.”

They reluctantly gave me the information, and I
quickly copied the documents. Since the copier was also a scanner,
sending a copy to Laura was a matter of a quick second pass through
the machine.

2

That afternoon I was on my way to my car in
G-deck to go pick up Danny from school. He was a bit clingy of
late. It was not surprising, first a favorite teacher, then his
mother, and finally this interloper who married his mother were all
struck down with poison. Not to mention being abducted by his
father and then rescued from a gunfight. It was enough to make
anyone clingy. It must have been Hell for a six, almost seven year
old.

Unfortunately, it wasn't over for him. I was
interrupted as I pulled my keys out to open my car. A burly
Hispanic gentleman asked me to follow him into a van. The small but
decidedly powerful handgun he pointed in my general direction was a
decisive argument in his favor. He gave me a quick, but thorough
frisking. He took my cell and my keys. Then he told me to enter the
vehicle.

Danny was inside. His eyes were wide with fear
and he was quietly sitting there. My host told the driver
“
Vamonos!
” and then settled in to inspect
the cargo.
It was not the most pleasant of car rides. I
asked if I could sit next to Danny. The man thought for a few
moments and said, “Stay where you are.”

The van drove for what seemed forever, but was
in reality little more than a half and hour. I heard the exchange
as they exchanged greetings with the guard at a gated community,
but given the implied threat from the gentleman with the pistol,
kept quiet. It wouldn't have mattered, in any case, they were used
to chattering anonymous cargo. Although it was usually female.

We pulled into a garage. I heard the door shut
behind us and then we were told to get out. The van, an old and
non-descript Ford Econvan painted in a mixture of faded green and
rust was incongruous sitting next to the jet-black highly polished
BMW on one side and the Jaguar on the other.

They pointed toward a door in the back of the
garage. I picked up Danny, this time they didn't object, and we
entered the dim bowels of the building.

3

Danny and I ended up in a small windowless room
in the basement. He looked at me and said, “Will, are you
scared?”

“A little.” I lied.

“I'm scared, a lot.”

“Danny, I'm not sure how, but we will get out of
this.” Telling him that if they meant to kill us they'd have done
it by now wasn't likely to be reassuring. Besides, they could have
plans that needed us alive for a short time. After that they'd
dispose of the evidence.

“I need to pee.” I banged on the door, and
eventually it opened a crack. I explained the problem and they slid
in a plastic drywall compound bucket, without its handle. Then the
door was locked again.

“This will have to do, Danny.”

4

Danny was sleeping fitfully as he leaned against
me. I was alternating between sleep and worry. A knock on the door
awoke both of us. A vaguely familiar man entered and told us to get
up.

“What's going to happen?”

“I talked to my employers, Will, and they have
decided to let you and your boy go.”

“Thank you.” I paused, “Do I know you?”

“You should, I'm John Rogers. From
chemistry.”

It took me a few seconds, but I placed him. “I
thought you were in the hospital with a stroke?”

He smiled, “I, um, used some of my
micro-encapsulation techniques to arrange for a diversion. It was
safer in the hospital, even if the trip did get a tad boring after
the first few days.”

“What?”

“Time-release LSD.”

“Makes sense. Why are they letting us go?”

“No point, who would believe you about what you
saw?”

“I'm not going to argue.”

“Good,” he turned to the door, “Now if you'll
follow me.” We did.

He led us to the front of the garage. They had
retrieved my car and it was sitting there with the two Bengali
maids I'd seen in the morning sitting in the back. John handed me
my keys, and cell phone. He pointed out, “Don't bother checking
your email. We've run the battery out on it.”

While Danny climbed into the front seat, John
chatted about the weather, and how he was looking forward to
resuming his position at GSU.

Since he didn't run away, I assumed it was safe
to start the car. I drove down the drive and part way out of the
gated community. Once out of sight I put the car in neutral, parked
in the middle of the road, and told the two women to get out.

“Danny?”

“Yes, Will?”

“Can you open the glove box, that button in
front of you?”

He did. “Hand me that big book.” I wanted the
car instruction manual.

“Thank you. Let's get out too.”

“Will why are you leaving the car going?”

“You'll see.” I hoped my suspicions were
nothing, but I'd learned that you were never paranoid enough.

We started to walk to the exit. I opened the
instruction manual. If our captors were thorough it would be empty.
It wasn't and I pulled out a cheap cell phone from its cutout in
the maintenance schedule.

I turned it on. Then I called Laura, and quickly
told her what had happened and where I thought we were. She would
pass that on to Detective Morrison. I was going to try to raise
Arthur myself.

I didn't get the chance. The guard from the gate
came running up to us.

“Hey! Move that car, you're blocking the
road.”

I looked up the road, and then back at him. “Why
yes, I guess I am.”

He started to push me towards it. I pushed
back.

“Move the car or I will call the -”

“The police? Please do, and while you're at it
call the bomb squad. And maybe the fire department.”

He looked at me. I yelled at the two women and
Danny. “Run! Out the gate.”

“You mean it?” He let go of my shirt. That was
all the freedom I needed. I turned as I trotted away. “Yes.”

He turned back to the car and started to say,
“It looks fine.” He didn't get to finish “to me.” before the car
exploded. He was knocked backwards, I was knocked forwards, but it
didn't matter we both ended up on the ground from the blast.

When I sat up, slightly dazed from the
concussion, I could already hear sirens in the distance.

Between the INS, the CIA , the FBI and various
other three-letter agencies too numerous to count, the case was
taken out of our, well Laura's really, hands. Not that I minded, we
had other things to do. Like maybe becoming a real family. Danny
was finally beginning to accept me as a suitable person. The
university president and provost were, for the moment, at a stand.
No doubt sooner or later they'd find a way to remove the
'unproductive' physics professors, namely me. But by then I'd have
finished my two years probation as a private investigator and could
tell them where to put it if I wanted. Of course, I might find
something on them in the meantime. So all was right in the world.
Except perhaps for those Bengali women. They were deported as
'illegal and dangerous' aliens. Too bad that meant they couldn't
give evidence against the powerful people who owned mansions in
Buckhead. It was something of a shame that one or two of them
applied and were accepted to Master's programs at GSU. Their
student visas allowed them to stay in the country. So maybe the
next few months would be interesting after all.

In the end Laura and I sold the town house.
There were too many bad memories in it for both of us. Of course
that meant we bought a new domicile and had a party to celebrate.
Most of our usual friends were there. That same immiscible mix of
police and professors that defined our lives. There were a few
additions. Danny insisted that his favorite teacher Ms. Jane was
invited. Since she and her parents were the start of my
investigation, it seemed fitting. I invited my students to show up
if they wanted. It made for an interesting party.

The doorbell rang, and being the closest host I
answered it. It was my new student Shen Yi. “I'm glad you could
make it Yi, come in. I'll introduce you to the people you don't
know.”

He did, I handed him a brew and we started to
make the rounds. We entered the living room, and he suddenly
dropped the beer. “Jane?”