When I pulled up Sheldrick’s driver’s license photo, I saw that he was indeed the man who’d opened the door when I went to see the Matchmaker. He was the one with the tattoos, and the horns, and no nose.

The guy who’d limped as he fled.

He also had priors in drug possession and intent to sell.

We contacted dispatch to get a car to his apartment.

“Ralph,” I said, “if someone were to make online communication unhackable—I mean through this quantum encryption—would that be a good thing or a bad one?”

“Well, I know one thing: it’d sure make our job a lot harder tracking down the bad guys. Why? What are you thinking?”

“Blake’s fingerprints are all over this case—I don’t mean literally.”

“Right.”

“I wonder if that might be the connection to Jon Murray.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Jon interned with Marcus Rockwell, who’s helping spearhead this research. It can’t just be a coincidence that the senator has legislation about this on his desk right now.”

“I’m still not sure what that has to do with Blake.”

“Neither am I, except that the person who watched Jon die might be more connected to Blake’s network than we ever imagined.”

++++

Timothy was finishing his sweep through the living room when he got the call.

“Hello?”

“You’ve been busy, Timothy.”

“Who is this?”

“I’m the one the voices have been telling you about.”

This isn’t real.

Yes, yes, it is.

He stared at the phone’s screen to make sure there really was an incoming call.

“There’s nothing wrong with your phone,” the man said.

Timothy froze.

The only way the man would say something like that was if he was watching him.

He’s here. Someone is here!

No. Not possible. No one else was in the house. He would have seen him during his search.

A camera somewhere?

Maybe he’d hacked into the phone and was using the phone’s camera.

Or maybe not.

It didn’t sound like Dr. Percival, but maybe it was him. Maybe Timothy wasn’t hearing his voice correctly because he didn’t want to hear it.

No, you would know. It’s not him.

“Who are you?” Timothy demanded.

“I’m the one you’ve always been afraid of, Timothy. I’m the one you turned in when you were a boy. The one with the hammer.”

“Dad.”

“It’s been a long time.”

But is he someone from your life? Is he someone you’ve seen but not recognized?

“Where are you?”

“I’ll tell you soon enough. When the moment arrives, don’t hesitate or more people will die. When they’re gone you need to leave.”

“When who’s gone?”

No answer.

“Where do I need to go?”

Silence.

“Who’s going to die?” he exclaimed.

But the line was dead.