Special Talents (13 page)

"Oh, yes, of course, Dr. Sloan." Landow shook Jeremy's hand. "How have you been?"

"Not bad," said Jeremy, a perplexed look on his face. "I was between patients and decided to run a few errands. As I said, when I saw you on the street I thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"Well, quite decent of you. How is your practice going?"

"Not bad really. With the economy and all the demand for plastic surgery is down a bit. But we all go through slumps from time to time."

"Indeed we do," replied Landow. "I'm sure it will improve soon."

"No doubt. Well I really should get going. My next patient is due in soon. Wouldn't do to keep them waiting."

"It was good to see you again, Dr. Sloan. The next time I'm in town I'll be sure to ring you up."

"I'll look forward to it."

"What was that all about?" Janet asked as they left the diner. "What was that about plastic surgery?"

"Something screwy is going on here," replied Jeremy. "I don't think that was Dr. Landow. Did you notice his suit? It's a nice suit but it's obviously off the rack."

"So?"

"Gene Landow is quite wealthy. He's pioneered several heart procedures that have brought him a great deal of money. He would never buy a suit off the rack. He always has his handmade."

"Okay. That is a bit suspicious. But you recognized him. You even shook hands with him. What makes you think it wasn't him?"

"For one, he was using an ability. I could see it in his aura. And he was lying about almost everything we talked about. That's probably because he didn't know the right answers. Like my talking about my plastic surgery practice. He had no idea who I was. So he had to pretend to know he did know me."

"And you say he was using an ability?"

"Definitely. I don't know what kind of ability it is but he was definitely using an ability. I think we need to check out whoever that is. It could be a terrorist. We may have to alert Richard to his presence."

"Okay, so what do we do?"

"Not we, you. I want you to follow him. Find out where he goes and who he sees. I'll follow you"

"Why do I have to follow him? Why don't you?"

"Because if he sees me he might recognize me. He's not likely to recognize you. We can keep in touch with our cell phones."

"Okay," said Janet, obviously not real enthused about the situation. "But I think you're just being paranoid."

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you," Jeremy said, smiling at her.

They waited outside the diner until Landow came out. Janet followed him up the street at a discreet distance. Jeremy followed a discreet distance behind her.

"Is that the house?" Scarborough asked as he got out of the car where Jeremy and Janet waited for him.

"That's it," said Jeremy. "He's still in there as far as we can tell."

"Well, it's like I told you over the phone, the house is registered to a Williard Barnes. Born in New York City in 1983 and moved to the D.C. area about a dozen years ago. He purchased this house apparently with cash."

"He must have money," said Janet.

"Not that I can find," said Scarborough. "He worked a series of menial jobs while in New York but hasn't held a job since he moved here. But his bills are always paid on time. And his credit card shows some pretty hefty charges on it. But like I said, he doesn't seem to have any source of income. And before you ask there's no trust fund or inheritance or anything like that."

"So where does he get his money?" Jeremy asked.

"That's a good question," said Scarborough. "He doesn't seem to have any political affiliation."

"Yeah, well if he's a terrorist he would want to keep his political affiliations quiet," said Jeremy. "He wouldn't want to draw any more attention to himself than was absolutely necessary."

"We have no proof he is a terrorist," said Janet. "There may be a perfectly logical explanation for all this."

"It doesn't explain why he would be impersonating Dr. Landow," said Jeremy. "Richard, do you have a picture of Mr. Barnes."

"Yeah, right here."

He handed a photograph to Jeremy. It showed a man in his late twenties with blue eyes and sandy brown hair. He was dressed in some kind of maintenance uniform and he bore absolutely no resemblance to the man Jeremy had talked to in the diner earlier that day.

"That's not the same guy," said Janet. "He's much too young. Besides, you said he was born in Ohio. Dr. Landow had an English accent."

"British," Jeremy corrected. "Landow is from London originally. But she's right. It's not even close. So whoever is impersonating Landow must be someone else. Maybe a terrorist with a special talent. He could be using Banes' home as some kind of base."

"We need to get inside there and look around," said Scarborough. "Only I don't have any probable cause for a search warrant. And I can't just go barging in there."

"I don't need a warrant," said Jeremy. "I'm just a private citizen. And a friend of mine is in that house. I'll just stop by and say hi."

"That could be dangerous," said Scarborough. "If he is a terrorist he might think his cover has been blown. He could get violent."

"I'll go with him," said Janet. "That will provide him some protection."

"Well, okay. Only be very careful. And the first sign of any trouble, I'm coming in."

"Don't worry. I'll just ask to see Dr. Landow. Perfectly innocent."

Scarborough watched as Jeremy and Janet approached the front door. Jeremy knocked on the door and after a few moments it opened. Standing in the door was Williard Barnes, virtually identical to the picture Scarborough had of him. For just a moment a look of recognition crossed his face as he looked at Jeremy. A look that didn't escape Jeremy's notice. After a moment, Barnes composed himself.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes," said Jeremy. "I'd like to see Dr. Landow please."

"I think you have the wrong address. There's no one here by that name."

"Really? That's funny. Because I watched him come in here a little while ago and he hasn't left."

"You must be mistaken, sir. I'm all by myself here. There's no Landow here"

"Is that so?" Jeremy asked looking into the house. Suddenly he pushed past the man and tried to enter the house. "I think there is. In fact, I think he lives here."

"Okay that's enough," said Barnes grabbing Jeremy's arm.

Janet immediately reached out and grabbed Barnes' free wrist. She applied pressure to it and twisted it.

"I'd let him go if I were you," she said staring at Barnes. "Assuming you don't' want your arm broken."

"Hey," Barnes cried out, releasing Jeremy's arm. Janet released her grip on him and he began to rub the wrist she had grabbed. "You people need to get out of here before I call the cops."

"Let me save you the trouble," said Jeremy.

He stepped back into the doorway and motioned for Scarborough to join them. A bit confused Scarborough hurried up to the door, pulling his ID out of his pocket.

"Mr. Barnes," said Jeremy, "meet Agent Scarborough of Homeland Security."

"Jeremy, what's going on?" Scarborough asked as he flashed his badge at Barnes.

"I think that's something you should be asking Mr. Barnes," said Jeremy, moving back into the house.

Scarborough followed him inside followed closely by Barnes and Janet in the rear. Inside the door and to the left was the dining room. Sitting on the table in the dining room were dozens of packets of one hundred dollar bills each neatly arranged. There were several receipts also sitting in a pile on the table. Curious, Scarborough picked up the pile of receipts and looked through them.

"Well now, this is very interesting," he said. "Mr. Barnes you don't seem to have a job. So where did all this money come from?"

"It's not illegal to have money," said Barnes. He appeared to be nervous.

"That would depend on where the money came from," said Scarborough. "And these. They're withdrawal slips from half a dozen banks. Each in a different name. Some of the wealthiest people in the D.C. area. And I'd have to count it to be sure but it looks like the money on the table is the exact same amount that these withdrawal slips add up to. Care to explain that."

"I found the withdrawal slips on the ground, that's all," said Barnes. "As for the money, I had a good day at Atlantic City. That's all there is to it."

"You're lying," said Jeremy.

"What about Dr. Landow?" Janet asked. "Where is he? We watched him come in here and he didn't leave. Is he in one of the rooms upstairs?"

"I told you, I don't know any Landow. And I'm here by myself."

"Well, he's telling the truth about being here alone," said Jeremy. "But he's lying about knowing Landow. Of course that's not so odd. He is Landow."

"What are you talking about?" Scarborough. "Landow is almost 15 years older than this guy. And they don't look anything alike. You said so yourself."

"I know," said Jeremy. "But his aura is the same as the man I met at the diner today. Minus any changes from special talents. Everyone's aura is distinct. But it remains the same. And his is the same as the Dr. Landow I talked to today. My question is how can you look so much like Landow? I don't' see any special makeup or anything around. Unless it's in another room."

"I don't wear makeup," said Barnes. "And I explained the receipts and the money. Now, if you don't get out of here right now I'm going to sue your butts off."

"Well, if you did win the money in Atlantic City," said Scarborough, "there will be a record of it. There's nearly $50,000.00 here. And there will be a record of you going there and where you stayed. But somehow I don't think I'll find any of that when I check on it."

"You don't have any probable cause," said Barnes. "You're in my house illegally. And you don't have a warrant. Now, unless you want more trouble than you can handle, I suggest you get out of here right now."

"Well, unless you start explaining where the money came from," said Scarborough, "I'm going to throw you in a cell so far underground it will take a month for sunlight to get to you. And you can forget about talking to a lawyer. You'll be in that cell until I get the answers I'm looking for."

"You can't do that," Barnes protested.

"Oh can't I?" questioned Scarborough, pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. "Ever hear of the Patriot Act? I can charge you as a terrorist and confiscate all this money. And you don't even have the right to see an attorney. And since you don't seem to have any source of income, I think it's fair to assume where you're getting the money from."

"Hey, I'm no terrorist," Barnes protested. "I had friends who died on 9-11. I'd never work with those bastards. And I'm not getting money from them. That's the God's honest truth. You have to believe me."

"I'd like to," said Scarborough. "But you haven't said anything that makes me believe you."

"What about these?" Jeremy asked, pointing to the withdrawal slips. "Where did you get them?"

"From . . . from the banks," Barnes stammered. "When I withdrew the money. You said yourself the withdrawal slips add up to the same amount. That's because that money is the money I withdrew from those accounts."

"You mean to tell me you just walked into a bank and withdrew nearly $50,000.00 from the accounts of some of the richest people in the city and no one questioned it?" Scarborough asked. "I find that a bit difficult to believe."

"How?" Jeremy asked. "You would need identification. And you don't look like any of the people named on those receipts. Why would the bank simply hand the money over to you?"

"It's kind of complicated," said Barnes. "And frankly, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try us," said Scarborough, sitting down in one of the chairs.

Barnes just sighed. He was stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If he didn't convince them he wasn't a terrorist he'd end up at Guantanamo or some other prison for terrorists. And it might be years – or longer – before he saw the outside of a prison again. He just sat down in one of the chairs trying to decide where to begin.

"Look," Barnes began, "I'm no terrorist. I just give the withdrawal slip to the teller and they give me the money. A simple withdrawal, that's all. It's not even stealing because I don't threaten them or use a weapon or anything. I just ask for it and they give it to me. That's it."

"By using a withdrawal slip that you've forged," said Scarborough. "A felony in most states."

"You'll never prove it's a forgery," said Barnes. "The handwriting is the same as the names on the slips. Even your experts will tell you that."

"So if I check the surveillance footage from the banks, I'll find you at the tellers' window getting the money?" Scarborough asked.