She didn’t think so, but if Gurney would hold on, she’d check with Emtar.

After a minute or two, she reported back that no one there could remember anything like that—unless perhaps Gurney was referring to the lullaby that began, “Go to sleep, dear one, rest …”

Did their company have a lot of competition?

Unfortunately, yes. The cost of the technology was dropping and its use was exploding.

As soon as Gurney ended his Kustom Kardz call, he placed a call to Kyle. He had no expectation of reaching anything other than voice mail, since he assumed that the BSA by now would be buzzing along I-88 and not even an impatient twenty-six-year-old would be likely to pull his phone out of his pocket on a speeding motorcycle.

But, as if to prove the futility of expectations, Kyle answered immediately. “Hey, Dad, what’s up?”

“Where are you?”

“In a gas station by the interstate. I think the town is called Afton.”

“Glad you could pick up. I’d like you to do something for me when you get to Kim’s place in Syracuse. That voice I heard in her basement? I think it was a recording—probably on a miniature playback device, something like the one in the card you gave me.”

“Jeez. How’d you figure that out?”

“The card gave me the idea. Here’s what I want you to do. When you get to the apartment, go down in the basement—assuming the lights are working and there are no new signs of intrusions. Look around in the vicinity of the staircase for places where something the size of a fifty-cent piece could be concealed. Somewhere near the bottom of the stairs. The voice I heard was definitely within a few feet of where I fell.”

“How concealed could it be? I mean, for the sound to be clear …”

“You’re right—it couldn’t be completely buried in the wall, but it could be in a shallow recess of some kind, maybe covered with paper or a painted fabric to blend in with the wall—something like that.”

“Not in the floor, though, right?”

“No, the voice came from somewhere above me—as though someone were bending over me.”

“Could it be in the staircase itself?”

“Could be, yes.”

“Okay. Wow. We’ll get going. I’ll call you as soon as we get there.”

“Don’t speed. Half an hour one way or the other won’t make any difference.”

“Right.” There was a pause. “So … did you like the card?”

“What? Oh, yes. Yes, absolutely. Thank you.”

“You recognized the ‘Spring’ thing?”

“Of course I did.”

“Okay. Great. Call you in a little while.”

To prevent “the ‘Spring’ thing” and its memories from pulling him into an emotional morass, Gurney searched for something to do until he heard back from Kyle.