“Hey, Ramone. Was everything alright with the repairmen?”
“Yes, they fixed the door and changed the locks. I have the new set of keys right here for you.”
He opens a drawer to his left, shuffles through its contents a little, and pulls out a key ring with three identical keys on it. It’s not the same kind as before, and that stupid little detail hurts more than it should. Mere weeks have passed since Lex gifted me with a key so I could come and go as I pleased, and that memory is already tainted by this whole mess.
After thanking Ramone, I head to the elevator and up. As I walk through the hallways toward Lex’s door, I wonder if maybe I was wrong to come here alone. Having Oli with me would have helped, at least a little. Kevin knows I’m doing this, so maybe I can ask him to come and assist me tomorrow. It’ll be Saturday, after all. Shelly and little Maddy could join us as well, so there’s a bit of life in all that desolation.
If the key is different, the door isn’t. It looks exactly the same as it did before they blew it open with a battering ram.
My hand shakes as I try to fit the new key in there, my nerves frenzied. One turn, two turns, and the door opens. After a deep and soothing breath, I push the panel. Even though I’ve seen it before, there’s nothing familiar about this sight.
The whole apartment has been turned upside down, down to the last couch cushion and drawer. They haven’t left a single stone unturned, and I’d venture that not finding anything that could tie Lex to Nammota only pushed them to dig deeper and deeper.
My eyes drift to the Pollock-like painting, still untouched in this mess, and behind it, the secret door they never found.
“Good afternoon, Andrea,” Iris’s synthetic voice greets me. “It’s been a while since I last saw someone.”
“Hey, Iris. Sorry, I meant to come sooner, but I wasn’t ready yet.”
“It’s alright, I understand. Do you have news about Alexander?”
I hold back a sigh. I can’t even get any respite here, even though I’m technically alone. “No, not yet. They’re still processing him.”
“I see. Last time you were here, you were accompanied by Kevin Langley, so I couldn’t proceed with the Ragnarok Protocol. Would you like me to do so now?”
My eyebrows come together. “The… Ragnarok Protocol?”
“Yes. Alexander was prepared for this outcome, so he came up with a protocol to handle its aftermath.”
“Okay, tell me more,” I say, removing my coat to hang it on the rack.
“In case of a perquisition, I’m meant to remain undetected while I watch over the events. If agents are ever to show an interest in the hidden room, the protocol demands that I initiate a sequence that will completely erase the content of the servers and computer within the room, leaving behind no data that could incriminate Alexander.”
“Wow, that’s clever.”
“Alexander is a very clever man. My program being on those servers, though, this protocol comes with a self-destruct implication.”
“I’m glad you didn’t have to do it, then.”
“When Alexander granted you full access to my commands, he also gave you the ability to initiate the protocol. Would you like me to run the sequence?”
“Well, now that you’ve told me it would destroy you… Is there any way to only delete the Nammota stuff?” I ask, thinking it might be a good idea. If, for any reason, the feds get another warrant to search this place again… I can’t take that risk.
“It would take a few adjustments I can’t make myself, but I can help you look into it, if you want.”
“Great, thank you, Iris. Maybe for now, you can just play me some motivational music while I clean up a little? I can’t think straight in this mess,” I suggest.
“Of course. Here’s your Spotify playlist titled ‘Que Clean, Que Fun.’ Tell me if you need anything else from me.”
Now probably isn’t the mood for “Livin’ la Vida Loca,” but as it fills the messy space, I realize this is exactly what I need to take my mind off things. Hours of loud, engaging music and things to tidy up and clean.
I start with the living room, returning it to its former state within forty-five minutes. They broke a vase and damaged several books in their frenzy, which Iris tells me can be reimbursed. Lex doesn’t need the money, but it might be cathartic for me to make them pay for it.
With a single look at the kitchen, I decide I don’t have the mental capacity for this shit yet. What the fuck did they expect to find in the spice racks?! Did they really have to turn over the entire place like this?
Lex’s home office is even worse, but thankfully, they barely touched the comics collection. Whoever was supervising the search probably realized that damaging those could bankrupt the bureau, so they proceeded with the utmost care and put it all back in place.
Since I don’t know what goes where in his study, I decide to organize the mess instead of trying to guess what belongs in which drawer or on which shelf. I’m trying to organize the top drawer of his desk when a glimpse of my own handwriting surprises me. Lex’s handwriting is rather messy and unintelligible, so there’s no doubt this is mine. Perplexed, I take the piece of paper out, reading the two words on it over and over. The note is crumpled as if it’s been turned into a tight ball of paper and then flattened again. It only says “Thank you,” and it takes me a few seconds to remember where it’s from.
