Chapter 3

As Don drove back to his office, he thought about Charlie's situation. Obviously there was something going on at Cal Sci. Charlie may have clearance at the national security level, but hiding his emotions from those close to him was not easy for him to do. And Don knew Charlie was tired, stressed, and irritated by something. It was clear that Liz's skepticism rubbed him the wrong way, but there was something more.

But this was a high profile crime, and Don needed all the help he could get. He knew he could count on Charlie, and he only hoped that he wouldn't be pushing Charlie too hard to solve this case. Solving the case would be worthless if his father killed him. Logically, he knew that his father's threats were just bluster, but there was no sense tempting fate. He grinned and shook his head at the image of his father chasing him around the house with his favorite putter.

He was still smiling as he pulled into his parking spot.

By the time he reached the bullpen, his mind was back on business. "Hey, Colby."

Colby looked up from his computer. "Hey, Don. How's the Whiz Kid doing?"

Don hesitated a moment. "He's okay. I think he's having some kind of problem at school, but he's already started on the case. He wants me to send him whatever we get from the skydivers."

Colby nodded. "Two are in interrogation, and two are still in their cells. We were just letting them stew until you got here."

"Good. Do you buy this story about a political protest?"

Colby snorted as he stood. "Not for a minute. But I don't think those four kids planned this thing. Too bad Megan isn't here to read their minds."

"If we put our heads together, we can read minds as well as Reeves ever could. Let's get Liz and David and go talk to a couple of high flying felons."

Liz nodded at the first interrogation room. The prisoner sat with his arm folded staring straight ahead, scowling. The man next to him wore a suit that probably cost more than Don made in a month. Had to be the lawyer. The lawyer was talking, but the prisoner didn't seem to be paying attention."We think this one is the leader of the group. At least he's been the most vocal. The witnesses say the glass was still falling while he was demanding to call his lawyer."

"And I'm guessing that I haven't seen his lawyer's photo on ads at the city bus stops."

David laughed. "You're more likely to have seen his photo on the front page of the LA Times. Above the fold."

"All right. Liz, why don't you and I take the guy with the high priced lawyer. David and Colby, why don't you two talk to our other guest? Do we have names for any of these four guys?"

Colby said, "The guy with the lawyer is Zack Hodgens. The guys in the other room is Avery Schaeffer. The two still in holding are Cameron Mason and Jimmy Doolittle."

"Really?" Don said, "Any relation to the World War II pilot? Or just parents with a bizarre sense of humor?"

"Not a clue," Colby said. "Though the latter could push a kid into a life of crime. You gotta wonder what some parents are thinking when they name their kids."

Don chuckled. "Like naming them after cheese?"

"Hey! Colby is a family name."

"You from a family of cheeseheads, Granger?" Liz smirked.

Colby rolled his eyes. "Like I haven't heard that one a million times, Warner."

"Okay, kids," Don said, "Let's see what the pennies from heaven have to tell us."

Zack Hodgens didn't look up as Don and Liz entered the room. His lawyer stood . "Agents."

Liz grinned at the lawyer. "Well, Mr. Raymond Lewis, Esquire. How nice to see you again."

"Agent Warner. What brings you to Los Angeles?"

"I transferred here a few months ago. What brought your client into the Norton Simon Museum by way of the skylight? Wouldn't it have been cheaper and easier to just pay the eight dollars like normal people?"

"My client was exercising his constitutionally guaranteed right of political protest."

"Last I saw," Don drawled, "the constitution didn't guarantee the right to trespass and damage private property. Not to mention aiding and abetting the theft of a priceless piece of art."

"Do you have proof that the theft wasn't just a crime of opportunity totally unrelated to my client's political protest?"

Don ignored Lewis's question and leaned both hands on the table in front of Zack. "So, what were you and your buddies protesting?"

At Lewis' barely perceptible nod, Zack said, "The economic racism of our European-centric culture."

Don raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "That's a new one on me. You got some organization you're part of?"

"Actually, we were hired by a very nice lady." Zack finally met Don's gaze, and batted his eyes innocently. "Her protesters were outside the museum when we did our thing."

Don shook his head. "No protesters. You think your lady friend stood you up?"

Zack shrugged. "Must be. Maybe she couldn't get her permit or something. She sure wasted a hell of a lot of money hiring us."

"Why don't you give us her name and we'll see why she missed a hot date with you and your buddies?"

"I don't know her name."

"Agent Warner, do you believe Zack here doesn't know the name of the person who hired him for such a risky stunt?"

"Not for a minute, Agent Eppes."

"Hey, she paid cash."

"You said she wasted a hell of a lot of money, Zack. What's the price tag for four double digit prison terms? Not to mention the risk? You and you employees could have been seriously injured."

"Partners. Not employees. And we agreed with her cause. Sometimes principle is more important..."

Don laughed so loudly Zack jumped. "Principle had nothing to do with it, Zack. I'm willing to bet that the only thing you and this imaginary woman agreed on was ..."

"Special Agent Eppes," Lewis warned, "I suggest that you try to find the woman who hired my client."

Don kept gazing at Zack as he answered Lewis, "It's awfully hard to find someone who doesn't exist."

"Oh, she exists, all right. She's about five foot seven, long gray hair. She wears tie dyed baggy dresses and floppy hats."

"Congratulations. You've described half the college professors in California."

Zack grinned. "Not the half that includes your brother."

Don forced himself to grin and hoped Zack hadn't noticed the moment of hesitation. "No, not the half that includes my brother. I just can't picture him in a baggy dress and floppy hat. Hey, Agent Warner, do you think Zack here is going to try to convince me that my brother hired him?"

Liz snorted. "He looks dumb but nobody could be that dumb. Your brother doesn't have long gray hair."

"So, Zack, are we done playing games? If you're going to insist that this woman really hired you, give me a description I can do something with. How much did she pay you to take the fall for her?"

"Take the fall?" Zack said. "Funny. She paid us a million."

"Each?" Don said. "Otherwise you got ripped off."

Zack folded his arms across his chest. "We didn't get ripped off."

"Let's see," Don said, "I'm no college professor, but even I can divide a million dollars by four. You guys got two hundred fifty thousand each. Let's use round numbers here. Say you go to jail for ten years. You've made twenty five thousand for each of those ten years. I haven't seen your business records, but I'll bet you clear more than twenty five thousand dollars a year."

Zack glanced at his lawyer then turned back to Don. "Listen, the description I gave you is accurate, okay? She looked exactly like you'd expect a protester to look. So I didn't really look any further. You know what I mean?"

"You saw what you expected to see and nothing more," Liz said softly.

"Right," Zack said. "But I've still got the cash she gave me. Maybe she left fingerprints on it or something."

Don stood and grinned at Liz. "Looks like I taught Zack some higher mathematics today."

"Your brother is going to be jealous, Don." Liz turned to the lawyer. "Since your client volunteered the money, I don't see the reason for a warrant. Do you?"

"Not at all, Agent. I am certain this evidence will clear my client of any charges other than trespassing."

After Liz and Don had left the room, she turned to him and said, "That man always was a dreamer. I'm thinking at least breaking and entering."

Charlie stood at the blackboard, chalk in his right hand, and chopsticks in his left. His eyes never left the board as he picked up a piece of California roll, dipped it in the mixture of soy sauce and wasabi and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he picked up an eraser and wiped out the last thing he had written. "That's not going to work," he muttered around a mouthful of rice.

"Why not?" Amita said, moving closer to look over his shoulder.

"It doesn't incorporate all of the variables..."

"Hullo!" Ben said from the doorway.

"Ben! Maggie!" Charlie waved them in.

Amita turned. "Ben, are you all right? Charlie told me about what happened."

"I'm fine, thanks. Just a bit sore."

"Sore? I thought the taser wasn't supposed to have any lasting effects."

Ben chuckled. "It didn't. But slamming backwards onto the floor did have a lasting effect. I do believe I am one giant bruise from top to – uh – bottom, so to speak."

Maggie was gazing at the blackboard. "Can I assume all this has something to do with the case?"

Ben raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're beginning to understand Charlie's language?"

"Not at all," Maggie laughed. "But the headings: 'skydivers,' 'woman w/taser,' and 'boy in chair' do seem to make a connection."

"I'm trying to come up with an algorithm, but I don't have enough data yet. Did Don send anything with you?"

Ben grinned and held up a manila envelope. "Just this."

"This may be what I've been waiting for," Charlie said. "Yes, it's the interviews of the skydivers." He put the chalk down and sat in his chair, beginning to pull papers from the envelope.

Amita pulled two chairs over. "Would you care to join us? We're having sushi for dinner. There's more than enough. Charlie always orders too much."

"No, I don't. Maybe I intentionally ordered enough for Ben and Maggie," Charlie said without looking up from the papers. "Oh, man, the guy Don thinks is the leader knows who I am."

"Really?" Amita said, looking over his shoulder. "That doesn't sound good."

Maggie said, "It might not be bad. You are pretty well known, Charlie."

He shrugged and continued to read. A large grin spread across his face. "Don dazzled him with math."

Amita nudged him. "You are rubbing off on him. Next thing you know, he'll be teaching your classes and you'll be wearing kevlar and carrying a gun."

"I don't think that's going to happen," Charlie said, going back to his reading. "This guy is good. He has a lawyer, and he didn't really tell Don anything. He did offer to surrender the money to help track down this woman they claimed hired them."

"Woman?" Ben said, "The one who stole the painting?"

"I don't think so," Charlie said, "this skydiver, Zack Hodgens, claims they were hired by a middle aged woman with long gray hair, about five foot seven."

Ben shook his head. "The woman who stole the painting was shorter. Five two or five three at the most. Did Don show this Zack person the sketch I drew?"

Charlie flipped through the report. "I don't see it in the transcript. I'll mention it to Don next time I talk to him."

"Charlie," Amita said, "remember when you used risk assessment to help Don with the suspects in that stolen radioactive material case a couple of years ago? Could you use something like that on these four guys? See if you can get one of them to realize he stands to to lose more than the others?"

Charlie shook his head as he continued to go through the report. "I don't know. They are around the same age, same socio-economic level, similar family situations. I don't think I'll be able to find enough differences to make one of them give the others up." He tapped on the envelope as he pondered. "But we did also discuss the prisoner's dilemma in that case. Now that might work better, if we can get Don and his team to play along with it."

Ben picked up a piece of nigiri and dipped it in soy sauce. Before he popped it into his mouth, he said, "What is the prisoner's dilemma?"

Charlie stood and wiped one of his chalkboards clean. He then drew a chart with three columns and three rows. "To simplify matters, I'll just assume there are two prisoners involved. Though four does make it a lot more interesting. Anyway," he said, "we presuppose that each of the two prisoners is interested in only one thing: minimizing his prison term. We also presuppose that the prisoners do not trust each other completely. Keeping the prisoners separate, Don will offer them each this deal: if prisoner A testifies against prisoner B, and prisoner B stays silent, then prisoner A goes free and prisoner B gets ten years in prison." He filled in boxes as he spoke. "If they both stay silent, they each get six months in prison. If they both talk, they each get a two year sentence."

Maggie studied the chart, "But the prisoners have a better sentence if they both stay quiet. Shouldn't they get six months each if they both talk and two years each if they're both quiet?"

"That does seem to make the most sense. But if prisoner A stays quiet and prisoner B decides to talk, then prisoner A will get ten years. Unless prisoner A really trusts prisoner B, he's best off by talking. If he talks, he gets either six months or nothing. If he stays silent, he gets either six months or ten years."

"So," Ben said, "does Don have the discretion to make the kind of offers you suggest?"

Charlie smiled and shrugged. "That's his problem. I'll fill him in on the principle and let him decide how to implement it." Charlie sat back down and took a sip of his coffee. He smiled and shook his head. "It's amazing to watch him interrogate suspects. He's quick and smart. He'll probably have all four of them singing like operatic tenors."

Amita chuckled as she nodded at Charlie's chart. "Or, if this doesn't work, he'll have them singing like castrati."

Charlie and Ben grimaced as Maggie and Amita laughed. Finally, Charlie said, "Hopefully, it won't come to that." He went back to reading the interviews. "The four of them started their skydiving business about a year ago, and it doesn't look like the business is doing very well."

"If the partners are disagreeing about money," Amita said, "that might give Don something he can exploit."

"I'm sure he's thought of it, but I'll mention it to him. Now this is interesting..." He was interrupted by a knock on his office door.

"Dr. Eppes?" Greg Spencer stood in the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but do you have a few minutes?"

Charlie stood and motioned for Greg to come in. "Of course, Greg. What can I do for you?"

Greg entered the room, looking hesitantly at the other professors. "I... uh..."

"It's okay. We're just grabbing a quick supper and doing some brainstorming. On our own time, of course."

Greg reddened. "I realize that. I just had a question about one of the questions you assigned for tomorrow."

With Charlie's encouragement, Greg explained the question, and Charlie led him through a few steps until Greg saw the solution. "Thanks, Professor Eppes." He turned to the others. "I'm sorry to interrupt. Goodnight."

When Greg had left, Amita said, "He's one of the students who filed the complaint against you, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. He's a good kid, though. I don't expect any more problems from them. Millie seems to have handled it very well."

Amita didn't look convinced "That problem he asked you about. That was pretty basic. Isn't he in one of your more advanced classes?"

"Yes, he is. What's your point?"

"I wonder if he had some other reason for coming here in the middle of the night, and just made that up when he saw we were here."

Charlie chuckled and shook his head. "You've been hanging around the FBI too much. You're getting suspicious."

Amita shrugged. "Just observant. It's probably nothing."

Well," he said, looking at the chalkboard, "Don wanted me to call him if inspiration strikes. I think this qualifies. It may not be a magic wand, but it'll give him something to start with." He glanced at Ben, "I'll ask him about whether he showed the sketch to the skydivers."

"Wait," Maggie said. "Just before Greg came in, you were looking at the file, and you said, 'This is interesting.' What was interesting?"

"One of the partners, Avery Schaeffer, said he warned Zack that the stunt was stupid. It sounds like there's already a chink in the armor. And Zack was the only one who had a lawyer. If they're partners, why didn't they either use the same lawyer or each have their own?" Charlie took out his cell phone and dialed.

"Hey, Charlie, what's up?" Don had obviously checked the display before answering his cell phone.

"Not much, Don. I haven't been able to come up with a magic wand yet, but we did come up with some ideas. Ben wanted to know if you'd shown his sketch to the skydivers."

"No. I'll wait until I can get one of them to cooperate. You have anything I can use to get them to open up to me? I remember how well you did getting that Watson kid of turn against Darryl Gerth. You got anything like that up your sleeve?"

"Well, they have too many similarities for me to do the risk assessment, but I thought you could use the prisoner's dilemma. Convince at least one of them that he stands to lose more by being quiet than he stands to lose by telling you everything he knows."

"Hey, I'll give it a try. You got the interview transcripts, right?"

"Yes, Ben brought them."

"All right. I'll try the prisoner's dilemma thing on our four skydivers. Will you have a chance to try coming up with something else in case that doesn't work?"

"I will. I have to teach a class at ten in the morning, but I'm all yours 'til then."

"Don't you need your beauty sleep?"

"Beauty sleep?" Charlie laughed. "It's too late for that, Bro. Should I call you when I have an answer for you? I don't want to wake you up."

The others in the room could hear Don's laugh through Charlie's phone. "Call me as soon as you have anything."

Amita checked her watch and when Charlie finished his call, she said, "Charlie, I'm going to have to call it a night."

Ben said, "Maggie and I will walk you to your car."

Charlie pressed his hand over his heart in mock horror. "You're all deserting me?"

"Yep," Amita kissed him on the cheek. "For some of us, beauty sleep is not a lost cause."