Page 135 of King’s Ransom

What the—

I picked it up but said nothing.

A voice at the other end—the same voice I’d heard when I was in the sauna at 59West—said pleasantly, ‘You know, when I put you on that list of five detectives, I wondered if you might become a problem. Hello, Dr Speedman. Mr Woods left a while ago but I didn’t see you leave 60 Hudson Street, so I figured you must be staying in the Tech Detect’s little back room.’

He was watching the building.

He knew where I was.

I swallowed, summoning up the courage to speak.

‘Modern Alchemical Solutions,’ I said. ‘That’s you, right?’

‘It is.’

‘You solve problems for people?’

‘Like you do,’ he said. ‘A kind of mirror image, one might say. I solve problems by committing crimes. You solve problems by solving crimes.’

‘What were you trying to achieve at 59West on December 21?’ I asked straight up.

‘You’ve seen my communications. I was merely working for some clients.’

‘Like Xiao and the Chinese?’

‘I work for all kinds of entities. Private individuals, corporations, even national governments sometimes.’

‘Why all the riddles?’

‘I don’t accept every client who seeks my services. I choose those whose problems amuse or challenge me. This one came with substantial challenges.’

‘You mean taking on Aristo King, the richest man in the world? Getting inside his home?’

‘It certainly makes life less dull.’

‘Again, why the riddles?’

‘There was a reason for the riddles. They certainly made the show more enjoyable, watching the FBI and all you brilliant detectives grapple with them.’

‘You were there,’ I said. ‘In the building. You shoved me into the sauna. Was that part of the challenge or just a cheap thrill?’

‘Just a cheap thrill. Oh, I had a front row seat to it all. I was mildly impressed with you when you leapt into the elevator shaft to save the boy, that was brave. But I was even more impressed when you doubled back and snuck onto the sauna level while the others went to check on the nanny. That was crafty. Cunning. And I admire people with cunning.’

As he spoke, my mind buzzed.

A front row seat.

I thought about the superintendent, Lenny Grossman, and my theory that someone had impersonated Grossman at 59West—the ‘Grossman infiltration’ as the plaintext had put it.

But this guy couldn’t have done that:

When I was shoved into the sauna from behind by him, I’d been watching the other man in Grossman’s white coveralls down the hall.

Had this guy impersonated someone else that day . . .?

‘Did you impersonate someone at 59West on December 21?’ I asked.

He chuckled. ‘Oh, I do like your mind, Dr Speedman. You might be more like me than you care to admit. Maybe you should take up a life of crime. It would be more lucrative than detective work in Houston.’