“Yes, it is. But what you saw on the Grid mirrors whatever records we have here.”

I leaned on the counter. “Can you show it to us, or do I need to speak to someone else?”

She scowled. “Follow me.”

She led us down two flights of stairs and unlocked a door in a long basement hallway. We entered a room with endless rows of metal shelves filled with filing boxes, each labeled alphabetically and by date.

“The latest technology,” I commented.

She ignored my snide remark. We followed her until we reached a box labeled “2088: Cal to Car.”

“It will be in here,” she declared.

She pulled the box off the shelf, set it on a nearby table, and laid down the rules. “I’m the only one who can handle the document. I’ll place it in front of you to view. You have up to ten minutes with me to view it. Longer than that, and I have to request a robotic replacement for myself down here.”

A full-time robotic replacement for her might have been an improvement, but I didn’t suggest it.

She donned a pair of plastic gloves and leafed through the box. “We don’t have as many deaths as we used to. Years ago “Cal to Car” would have filled three file boxes. Caldwell. Here’s Albert Caldwell. Samantha Caldwell. What was the name? Raymond?”

She turned to Abby, who nodded. The woman looked back through the file, flipping through a dozen records on either side of Samantha Caldwell. “Well.” She looked over at us. “It doesn’t seem to be here. You said you saw the record on the Grid?”

“Ten days ago.”

“Huh. Let me look one more time.” She flipped through the file once more. Nothing. “You’re sure you saw it on the Grid? Because if it’s on the Grid, it has to be here. The Grid records come from here.”

“Yes,” I replied. “We’re sure.”

She closed the file box and placed it back on the shelf. “Well, let’s verify that, shall we?”

We followed her back up to the second floor, where she located Ray’s death record on the Grid. “Huh. There it is. You were right. Looks like someone made a mistake.”

Abby grabbed my forearm as we walked toward the exit. “Creighton, what does it mean that there’s no certificate here?”

“I’m not sure. But it might mean that the Grid record is fraudulent.”

“And if it is?” Her brown eyes were wide.

“Then your grandfather isn’t dead.”

We took the car back downtown and boarded a shuttle for DC. I turned to Abby after we got settled in. “I’m going to take the train up to Boston tomorrow.”

She nodded. “What time do we need to leave Lauren’s house?”

“No, not we. Just me. I want you to stay at Lauren’s.”