On the fifth floor of the Broward County Library there are thirty wonderfully new computers. We only need one. A computer, Internet access, and a bit of privacy, courtesy of the "Out of Service" signs Charlie wrote and affixed to the screens of the three computers closest to ours.
"Does anyone mind if I do the typing?" he asks, pulling his chair closer to the keyboard.
I'm about to protest, but
change of mind It's an easy concession, and the busier you keep him, the less he'll give Gillian fleas. Naturally, my little brother is still upset that he invited her to join us, but between his responsibilities as a copywriter and the task of solving the mystery of the photographs, Charlie is so distracted that he hardly cares.
-All prepared? Charlie asks as Gillian and I pull up our chairs next to hers.
I nod, practically wasting energy. Finally, we get to
March.
"Go to www.disney.com," he says.
Gillian, equally excited.
Charlie shoots him a look capable of
cut diamonds.
-Really? He wasn't sure
she says with obvious sarcasm.
I lean forward and
I pinch the back.
Shake your head and type the
electronic address. The Disney website appears on the computer screen. "Fun for families," he says in gold lettering, sitting right next to our first pairs of mouse ears:
Mickey and Pluto sitting outside a cartoon house. "Where Magic Lives Online," he says at the top of the screen.
"That better be," Charlie warns.
He turns the pages and three buttons appear in the Disney Guide: "Amusements, Parks & Playgrounds," and one headed "Inside the Company."
Gillian is about to open her mouth. Charlie glares at her, hits Inside Company, and lingers, enjoying the moment Gillian shuts the hell up about her. I pinch him again.
"You know, she saved our asses at the house," I remind her with a look.
"She's also the one who left us there," he answers his look at me before refocusing on the monitor and hitting the "Disney Online" button.
When the new page appears, there is a box marked "Search". And while we came up short when we showed Duckworth's colleague at Neowerks the photos, he was still able to pick the first of the four.
"Put Stoughton's name in there," I say, getting up from my chair and regretting allowing.
Charlie will take care of the keyboard.
Charlie enters the words "Arthur Stoughton" in the input box.
«Search» and press «Enter».
The seconds pass and the three
we look around to make sure no one is watching us. Four computers away a teenager is testing the limits of the library's porn search software, but he hasn't once looked up.
Results for 'Arthur Stoughton': 139 documents
1. Executive biography
for Arthur Stoughton 2. Executive Biographies
for disney.com
The list goes on. Charlie presses "Executive Bio" and the computer plays Stoughton's resume. Right next to it, however, is the item that makes our eyes widen: the corporation's official photograph... identical to the one on Duckworth's photo strip. Arthur Stoughton. Gray hair, smart suit, Disney smile.
—Executive Vice President and Managing Director of Disney Online —reads Charlie in the biography. Bingo! — Next, he goes straight to the photograph.
"Press it," I say as Charlie slides the cursor over Stoughton's face. But when he activates the digital photo nothing happens. He tries again. Nothing.
"Are you sure you're doing it correctly?" Gillian asks.
"Do you want to try it?" Charlie growls.
"Relax," I warn him.
He gives me the famous look of his death.
"Maybe I don't want to relax.
Ollie...
The porn guy looks away
towards us and the three of us fell silent. Gillian is the first to react and she winks at him as if she's flirting with him. She fixes her eyes on his screen again.
"Let me try," she says to Charlie as he tries to gain control of the mouse. A week ago, Charlie was carefree enough to share it with everyone. But after these last few days, as his tongue lightly touches the scab that has formed on her wounded lip—control is the thing.
last one would give up Especially when it comes to Gillian.
-I. I. Order," he tells her.
Realizing we need more faces, he returns to the previous page and hits the "Executive Biographies for Disney.com" button. Again, the computer reactivates the same photograph of Arthur Stoughton. Shit.
-What do we do now? Charlie asks.
"Go on to the next pages," Gillian insists.
Gillian taps the bottom of the screen with her fingernail, pointing to what looks like the top edge of another photograph. Stoughton is not alone. As Charlie eagerly turns the pages on the screen, a pyramid of photographs appears on the monitor. It's the entire Disney.com organizational chart, with Arthur Stoughton sitting at the top while the rest are spread out at the bottom of the pyramid. The pyramid includes a total of two dozen photos: VPs and other associates in Marketing, Entertainment, and Lifestyle Content Development, whatever that means.
"There's photograph number two," I exclaim, turning the last syllables to a whisper. The banker.
There's no mistaking it, as he hands Charlie the strip of Duckworth's photos and compares them to the image on the screen. There's the second uncle...
"Would you say he's a tired, pale, average executive who chews on the ends of pencils?" Charlie asks.
"Yes," I agree. If I ever look that sad and faded, promise you'll drive a stake through my heart and
you will kill with a string of garlic.
"There's the third one," he points out.
Gillian, resting her fingernail against the official company photo of the curly-haired redhead. But when we examine the hierarchy on Polaroid, none of us see photo number four: the black man with the dimple in his chin.
"Are you sure that's all there is?" Gillian asks.
Charlie looks for the last screen, but that's it. All we have are the two dozen photographs.
"Maybe he's gone company, I say.
"Maybe there's even a list."
fuller somewhere else," Gillian suggests.
"Or maybe this is the right one," Charlie says as he returns to the first screen. Moving the cursor over to the photo of Stoughton, he activates the image and prays to summon some of his usual magic. Surprisingly, he finds her. The border of the box moves slightly.
I get up from my seat.
"Do you think that...?"
"Don't say it," he warns me.
No bad vibes.
"It won't work if we don't find the last face," Gillian points out.
Charlie ignores her comment, moves the cursor to the picture of the pale banker and presses the button. On the screen the box flashes again. The last face is the one that corresponds to the redhead.
"Miss Scarlet…in the library…with the lead pipe," she announces. Maintaining the order of Duckworth's photo strip, she activates the official company photo of the curly redhead. The box blinks and I put my hand on Charlie's shoulder, grabbing the back of the shirt tightly. Gillian and I leaned forward, our bodies covering the arms of the seats. The three of us hold our breath. The helicopter is perched on the helipad and ready to take off. But nothing happens.
-What happen? -asked.
"I already told you that all four photos are needed for the keys to work," Gillian insists.
Charlie sinks into the chair and stares at the screen. She'll never admit it, but this time, she's right. Nothing happens. And then... like it rained from the sky... something happens.