"Shotguns, automatic rifles, you know—heavy stuff, stuff the cop's come all over us for if we sold outright, so we just kept the pistols and stuff up, y'know, front, perfectly legal things, and just moved the other stuff."
    "How much of it?"
    "Two cases, ten apiece."
    "Plus the explosives," the other one added helpfully.
    "Yeah, the explosives. The grenades and stuff."
    "Grenades, shotguns, a couple of heavy machine guns...30 cals from the war?" he guessed.
    "Yeah."
    "Anything... else?"
    "No, man, that was it."
    "Very good." He turned on the lights and siren. "The police should find you in a couple of minutes." He left a white rose on the driver's seat and vanished into the night.
    Argus continued to observe the crime scene in case of further developments.
    "Nigel, open a new file, no name attached as yet...." She gave him the details she'd noted on the man in the alley, including his unnatural strength and apparent unwillingness to leave his companion behind.
    "This doesn't match the information in Muse's file. The women do," Nigel noted.
    If only Vanguard had known that. "Depending which model he's following, we can expect one or possibly three more crimes. Of course, they needn't be taking place here."
    "He's using the classical model, they usually have three acts," the Rose noted.
    "Dang, I missed the play," Vanguard realized. "I was supposed to see Oedipus Rex tonight."
    "Really...." Argus raised her eyebrows.
    That night's performance had been the opening night; the one on Friday was the "big night," the one to which the city dignitaries and so forth had been invited.
    "You know, I think we should be there," Vanguard offered.
    The villains had gathered vessels for their travels and weapons for their siege; the third playbill had yet to be delivered.
    "I'll know when it is," Argus assured them.
    The three of them spent a while pondering possible interpretations of the clues that would provide insight into the ultimate goal of the Muse and his mysterious companion. Did they intend to lay siege to the theater? Did they expect to be besieged there, hold people for ransom, conduct sacrifices (that was the White Rose's suggestion).... Fitzgerald had been afraid of being kidnapped, and his father certainly had the money to make it worthwhile.
    "He told me that he wasn't scared any more," Vanguard noted. "What if he faked it? If you faked your own kidnapping to get part of the ransom?"
    "It's been done," Argus noted.
    "It also leaves you open slightly to being actually kidnapped by the people you hired, so they can have all the ransom," the White Rose pointed out.
    "It is a problem," he admitted.
    "Honor among thieves," she mused.
    "A tricky concept."
    "To say the least. Tricky characters," she muttered. "So we have settled upon the theater as the likely place of the final crime?"
    "It seems likely, but without the final clue, I hate to be precipitous. Maybe they're using the theater as their base of operations, laying siege to somewhere else."
    There didn't seem to be anything further that could be done that night, other than make arrangements to stay in touch the following day. They decided not to alarm Fitzgerald unnecessarily by suggesting that he may be a kidnapping target; Captain Vanguard didn't entirely trust him.
    The next morning the paper carried a front-page story about the "Mystery Man Conflict in South Boston! Vigilantes Menace City!" mentioning Captain Vanguard's involvement and the apparent presence of the White Rose, who had kidnapped people who were helping the police with their inquiries and left them to be hospitalized hours later. They suspected Argus' involvement as well; although she had not been seen at the time, there had been explosions and a car riddled with machine-gun fire.
    Madison glanced at the paper and sighed. "I hate this town."
    Argus received a message from her police contact. "Another mysterious playbill appeared in today's mail. Again, the secretary says it wasn't there, it showed up somehow between point A and point B. I've managed to secure a copy of the text. The chief of police is most upset," he added. "The mayor was on the phone with him for some time this morning, asking him to make absolutely certain that nothing, nothing of this nature happens to disrupt the event tonight."
    "So the police will be there in force, I assume..." Nigel dropped part of the Globe in front of her. Someone had taken out a full-page advertisement. "Heavens," she remarked.
    "Mistress, I believe this may be important," he said.
    I Only Have Eyes for You, the banner read. Act III, in which our heroes raise white sails in triumph. "How could a robber dare a deed like this, were he not helped with money from the city? Money, and treachery. Prodigal or pilgrim, all stages of the same. Who lays no feast before him and leaves behind but sin?" Oedipus the King, lines 123-125. Hm.
    Hunter, playing a hunch, called the theater just in case seats 123-125 happened to be in a box that had been reserved for him and his cohorts; they were in a box and had been reserved for Senator Kennedy.
    Madison went to the Pilgrim Theater and explained that he had missed the previous night's performance and hoped to get a ticket for the one that night.
    "Hang on just a moment sir," the man replied, looking through some files. "Yes, according to our records it seems that you did have a seat that had been prearranged last night, but I'm afraid that the performance tonight is standing room only."
    "Sure you can't make arrangements?" He smiled, at his most engaging.
    "Well, seeing that it's you, sir, and that your seat last night was set aside specifically by Mr. Fitzgerald... there are always a few spare seats, just in case, I'm sure that we can fit you into one of those. It won't be a wonderful seat, sir, I can't guarantee that, sir. Normally these are ones that we reserve for visiting dignitaries, so we should be able to... let me see what we can do. Wait just a moment." He retreated to the inner office, where Augustus heard muttering.
    

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