From this point on, communication will be limited to when we contact you. If something goes wrong, call the 800 number at the end of this letter. It will notify our field agents that you need their immediate assistance. This should be used only in the event of an emergency.

Your complete assistance will ensure your future. I hope the next time we talk, it is under better circumstances.

Ben turned the page to see the list of potential suspects. Suddenly, the door to the bathroom flew open. Through the space between the door hinge and the stall, Ben saw a figure rushing toward him. The man banged on Ben’s stall, screaming, “Get the hell out of there! I know who you are!”

Panicking, Ben crumpled up the letter and stuffed it down the front of his pants.

“Get the hell out!” the man shouted. “I know you’re trying to find me out!”

Ben noticed a slight slur in the man’s voice. “Who are you?” Ben asked.

“You know damn well who I am!”

Ben stepped out of the stall with his briefcase. Before him was a shabbily dressed street person with a long, dirty beard.

The man banged on the next stall. “I know you’re in there!”

Ben approached the man. “Are you-”

“Give me a dollar!” The man pushed his palm under Ben’s nose.

Convinced that the man was neither a marshal nor a threat, Ben opened his briefcase and pulled out his regular turkey sandwich. “It’s not a dollar, but-”

“Thank you,” the man said, grabbing the sandwich. “You’re a good man.”

After rushing through Court security, Ben avoided the elevator and ran up the stairs to the second floor. When he arrived in his office, he threw his briefcase on the sofa, reached into his underwear, and pulled out the letter. He smoothed it flat and passed it to Lisa.

“I hope you don’t expect me to touch that,” Lisa said from her desk.

“Someone passed me this on the subway,” Ben explained, his voice racing with excitement. “The marshals went for it!”

Quickly reading through DeRosa’s missive, Lisa flipped the page and scanned the list of potential suspects. Included were Lungen and Fisk, Nancy, fellow legal clerks, and a variety of other Supreme Court employees. The first three names on the list were Nathan, Ober, and Eric. “Do you think this is real?” Lisa asked, looking up at her co-clerk.

“What do you mean, is it real? Of course it’s real.”

“The only reason I’m asking is because it’s so cryptic. I mean, it’s not addressed to you, it’s not signed by anyone. It makes no reference to the fact that you already met. For all we know, it could be from Rick.”

“It can’t be from Rick,” Ben insisted, snatching the letter back. “It’s from the marshals.”

“Hey, if you’re satisfied, I’m satisfied,” Lisa said.

“Well, I’m satisfied,” Ben said. “Completely satisfied.”

“What do you think of their list?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Ben said, rereading the list of suspects. “But I don’t think my roommates are the ones we should be worried about.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lisa said. “I mean, who else could’ve told Rick about our plan with the yearbooks?”

“Who knows? It might’ve been the people in the mailroom. They received the packages. Anyone could’ve gone through them before we picked them up.”

“Maybe,” Lisa said. “But you’re not telling your roommates about this, are you?”

“No way,” Ben said. “You read the letter. Without my full cooperation, we don’t have a deal. In the end, my roommates will be pissed for being left out, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“Exactly,” Lisa said. “That’s-”

Ben’s phone rang. “Hold on a second,” Ben said, picking up the receiver. “Justice Hollis’s chambers. Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m looking for an Alvy Singer.”

“This is Alvy,” Ben said hesitantly, remembering the fake name from his P.O. box.

“Hey, Alvy. This is Scott over at Mailboxes and Things. I wanted to let you know that your payment is once again overdue on your second P.O. box, and we need a payment as soon as possible or we’ll have to turn it over to a collection agency.”

Ben realized that Scott was talking about the box that Rick had opened. “I’m real sorry about that,” Ben said. “It just slipped my mind. When do I have to make the payment?”

“All it says here is that they want it by the end of the month,” Scott explained. “And if I can give you a piece of advice, I’d make it as soon as possible. If the owner doesn’t get her payments, she’ll confiscate the mail that comes in for you. It’s not my policy, but that’s the way it works.”

“You know that’s against the law,” Ben said matter-of-factly.

“It doesn’t matter what it is-that’s her policy. In fact, she wanted me to tell you that you’re not getting your package until you pay your bill.”

“What package?”

“Oh, I’m sorry-I thought you knew. We have a package here for you. That’s probably why she had me call.”

“Can you see what the postmark says?” Ben asked nervously. “I want to know if it’s anything important.”

“Sure. Hold on a second.”

Ben turned to Lisa. “You won’t believe this one.”

“Alvy, are you there?” Scott asked.

“I’m here,” Ben said.

“It’s postmarked a few days ago, but it probably came in yesterday.”

“Thanks for the help,” Ben said. “I’ll be in to pay the balance by the afternoon.”

“You got it. We’ll have your package waiting behind the counter.”

Ben hung up the phone and headed straight for the door.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked. “Where are you going?”

“There’s a package waiting in my P.O. box.”

“So what? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course it does,” Ben said. “Rick’s the only one who communicates that way.”

“Big deal. The marshals have it covered.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ben said, his hand on the doorknob. “The package has a postmark from a few days ago. The marshals may not’ve put everything in motion until today.”

“I’m sure they-”

“I wouldn’t be sure of anything,” Ben shot back as he opened the door. “If Rick started before we did, we’re in serious trouble.”

Twenty minutes later, Ben returned to the office holding a small manila envelope. Before he could say a word, he noticed the disturbed look on Lisa’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Dennis Fisk from the Marshals Office was just up here. He said he wanted to speak to you as soon as you got back.”

“Did he say anything else?” Ben asked, throwing the envelope on his desk.

“He asked me why Eric was in our office the day Grinnell was announced.”

“I don’t believe this,” Ben said as he picked up his phone. “Could more things go wrong today?” Furiously dialing their number, he waited for the receptionist to answer. “Hi, this is Ben Addison. I want to speak to Carl Lungen.”

Moments later, Lungen picked up. “Hi, Ben. Long time no speak. How was your New Year?”

“Let me tell you something,” Ben said, enraged. “If you suspect me of something, I expect you to have the decency to tell it to my face. Don’t send Fisk up here to scare me. I passed your damn lie detector test and answered every one of your questions.”

“First, why don’t you take a deep breath and calm down,” Lungen said.

“I don’t want to calm down. I want to know what this is all about.”

“Fisk wasn’t trying to scare you. He was just passing along a message.”

“I have voice mail. I assume you’ve grasped the function of a phone.”

“Listen, Ben, I think we’ve been more than fair with you since this whole thing started.”

“What thing?” Ben interrupted. “You’re always talking about some thing, but you can never exactly say what this mysterious thing is.”

“Let me put it to you this way,” Lungen said. “Three weeks ago, you swore to us that you and Eric weren’t speaking. A couple days after that, Eric was in the Court and in your office. Not only that, but he also used Nathan’s name to get in here. Now, do you want me to tell you what I think, or do you want to finally tell me the truth?”