There was no hint of pipe smoke in Priest’s small office, but it was as cluttered and stacked as haphazardly with things as Fabrikant’s space. Clearly this coterie of elite, benevolent geniuses were not neat freaks. Pine also noted that there were no personal articles, no photos, no mementos from trips or family events. It was as though Priest had no life outside of his work.
Well, we’re not so very different on that score.
Books lined the shelves and were piled on the floor. Binders full of papers formed columns across the floor and tables. The desk was overflowing with more stacks of paper, books, and file folders.
A shiny Apple desktop computer occupied a prominent place on the desk.
Fabrikant watched Pine as she took in the space along with Blum.
“Ben was quite the renaissance man. He had many interests.”
“I would imagine that all of you here do,” noted Blum.
“Yes, we do, actually. Although some of us also have specialties.”
Pine sat down at the desk and stared at the computer. “I need to get on to his computer.”
“I’m not sure I can allow that, but, in any case I’m sure he has a password.”
“Priest left behind a flash drive that I think has something important on it. But it’s also password protected.”
“Then getting on Ben’s computer won’t help you.”
“You’re wrong, it could.”
“How?”
“I’ll show you.”
Her fingers hovered over the keys even as she eyed the various things on Priest’s desk.
“What are you doing?” asked Fabrikant.
“Profiling, for want of a better term.”
Her gaze continued to dart to various objects, until it held on one.
It was a coffee mug full of pens. Printed on the side of the cup was a movie poster.
She typed in the name Keyser Soze.
Nothing happened.
She added another word to Keyser Soze. Then she added more words and then changed their order.
The computer sparked to life.
“How did you do that?” asked Fabrikant.
“Passwords are a pain in the ass to keep straight. Some people use password vaults that generate passwords for lots of different applications, thus obviating the need for a person to remember any of the passwords other than the vault’s. But most people don’t use that method. They could base their passwords on things they keep around them. That helps them remember what they are.” She looked around the room. “There’s absolutely nothing personal in this room. No pictures, or artwork, or memorabilia. Nothing to show the personality of the man who works here. Except for that.” She pointed to the mug. “The Usual Suspects. Kevin Spacey played the character of Verbal. I tried various combinations that were pretty straightforward, like ‘Verbal is Keyser Soze.’ But having met Priest, I concluded he’s not so straightforward. He marches to a different beat. So, I tried the reverse, ‘Soze Keyser is Verbal,’ and bingo.”
Fabrikant silently clapped his hands together. “Impressive. I like how your mind works.”
Pine inserted the flash drive and brought up the screen where the password was asked for.
“Do you think it’s the same password?” asked Blum.
“Doubtful, but I’ll try. We might get lucky.”
She typed in “Soze Keyser is Verbal,” and nothing happened.
“Okay, that’s a no go.”
Fabrikant said, “Do you know for a fact that what’s on the flash drive is related to your case?”
“Priest went to great lengths to hide it, so other things being equal, yes, I’m pretty sure it is.”
She hit some more keys, and a list of the files on Priest’s computer came up. “Is it okay if I print out the list of his files? I can go over them in more detail later.”
“Certainly. But just the file list, not the files themselves. I can’t allow you to take Ben’s work product without his permission.”
“Well, I hope he’ll make it back one day to give his permission.”
“Is it really that serious?”
“With this Sung Nam Chung involved, what do you think?”
Pine printed out the file list and exited out of the computer.
Fabrikant escorted them to the building entrance. Before he closed the door, he handed her his card. “All my contact numbers are on there. If something comes up, or you need some help, don’t hesitate.”
“Thanks,” said Pine, taking the card.
As they walked down the street to the parking garage, Blum said, “Why don’t you profile Priest again? That might help us figure out the password.”
“I can try,” said Pine. “But if it’s just in his head, we’re not going to get it.”
“Glass half full.”
“Right.”
“What did you think of the people back there?”
“Either they are what they appear to be, or they’re a front for some weird shit going on.”
“They wouldn’t have helped us if they were bad people.”
“Depends on your definitions of help and bad.”
“True.”
They reached the Kia and climbed in.
Pine pulled out into traffic and turned left. As they drove along, she glanced in her mirror. “Here we go.”
“What?”
“We picked up a tail.”
“I wonder who.”
“Come on, Carol. You don’t need three guesses. The Society for Good is on our ass. Jeez, you wouldn’t think they’d be so obvious.”
“And what are you going to do about it? Lose them?”
“Not quite.”
“Why not?”
“I’d like some answers.”
Blum sat back in her seat. “Well, you always know just the right way to ask.”