You bastard, I should have known better than to trust you. You haven’t changed, still intent on screwing anybody to get what you want. I thought a contract would protect me, but you saw to that, didn’t you? I can’t believe how naive and stupid I was. I should have talked to a lawyer, but you said it wasn’t worth the money. Did your agent really review the contract like you said? Frankly, I don’t believe it. I have a good mind to call her and have a little talk with her. But I can’t afford to pay back the money, you bastard, and you know that. I’m stuck, but this doesn’t mean I won’t try to find some way out.

What kind of contract had X signed? I wondered. Godfrey had only too obviously taken advantage of X’s naivete and lack of experience, but this sounded bad, even for Godfrey.

There was a mention of contracts in the inventory, but I suspected that there wouldn’t be a copy of the contract with X. Even Godfrey wouldn’t be arrogant enough—or stupid enough—to include something that potentially damaging with the rest of his papers.

That contract, however, could be the key to everything. Had X finally become so enraged over the unfairness and decided that Godfrey had to die? If only I could find it—or figure out some way of discovering who X was.

The answer might be in the box of disks. All it would take was time.

Stopping long enough only to walk home for a quick lunch, I spent most of the day at the computer, going through every disk in the box.

I found a few more letters, some of them filled with X’s anger over Godfrey’s behavior, others with a tone of resignation. Occasionally X mentioned the increasing profits the books brought. X apparently had no complaints there.

That was another point to consider. Godfrey had made millions from these books. Even I had read some of the articles in magazines about his lifestyle. X must have made some pretty significant money as well.

Was there someone in Athena living beyond his or her apparent means? Had X resisted the temptation to spend conspicuously? That would be something Kanesha could check better than I—once one of us could put a name to X, that is.

After all the time spent with the disks, I had no solid clue to the identity of X. X had obviously known Godfrey a long time, but there were plenty of people in Athena and elsewhere who had.

There was the mention of a group—probably a writers’ group—but there were such groups all over the place.