Scott called the office.
    "Good morning, K. Robeson enterprises," Stephanie picked up.
    "Stephanie."
    "Hi. You know, I'm starting to figure out that I spend the vast majority of my time here," she informed him.
    "Yes, you do."
    "I need better roommates."
    "Felix was arrested at the airport last night, could you tell Larry?"
    There was the sound of the phone dropping.
    "Excuse me, what?" she asked.
    "Let Larry know."
    She handed him over instead. "Larry? Scott's on the phone...."
    "Good morning, something seems to have upset our rather curvaceous secretary," Larry observed.
    "They arrested Felix at the airport last night."
    It sounded as if Larry had just spit out his coffee. "Well, that's a remarkable deviation from the script," he recovered. "Was he flying in or flying out?"
    "I don't know yet, I'm on my way to the police station."
    "Will he need a lawyer?"
    "One can only assume."
    "I'll be there promptly."
    There was a WAMT van parked in front of the station, Scott noted as he went in through the roof. Holly was on the front steps, taping. He knocked on Reilly's door before sliding under it; Privateer had to come in the normal way.
    "Good morning, Scott," said the assistant district attorney, rising from the visitors' chair. Reilly looked somewhat more harrassed than usual.
    "Good morning, Mr. Harrison."
    "And you are...?" he inquired with a glance at the swashbuckling stranger.
    "Visiting from Harborview. Privateer."
    "You Harborview people do good work," Harrison nodded before turning back to Scott. "You're a little late, our boys in blue have already captured this guy, I'm ready to throw the book at him. We've been questioning him all night, but he's been refusing to reveal where he's got the materials."
    "All night?" Reilly questioned. "Isn't that a little bit of a stretch, Harrison? We've only had him here for an hour and a half."
    "It was night when I got here."
    "So just a small question, who brought him in?" Scott wanted to know.
    "Couple of our men at the airport. Ever since the crimes started taking place, we've upped our security in case anyone tried getting in or out." The man had Political Opportunist written on his forehead in letters even Scott could read. "You know, since the police here had this razor-sharp security, they caught this Mr. Cat, an obvious alias if I've ever heard one, milling around the airport."
    "He was milling?" Reilly queried, his distaste clear.
    Harrison sighed. "He was in the airport, they identified him from the photographs that we have of him, they closed on him, arrested him, and brought him here. We have been asking him to tell us about his whereabouts all night, for the past few days. He has not told us anything. This looks suspicious to me. The man has a rap sheet a mile long, following the exact same pattern of crimes. You honestly don't think he's innocent, do you?"
    "Well, actually, I'm pretty sure he's innocent," Scott replied evenly.
    "That's for the courts to decide, young man!" An elderly man hobbled into the office, supported by a cane. He didn't resemble Larry in the slightest.
    "And you are...?" Harrison inquired, clearly annoyed.
    "I am his attorney. Winston Randolph Smith."
    "May I see your credentials, Mr. Smith?"
    "Of course. I specialize in this area of law."
    "Oh." Harrison looked at the paperwork. "Very well."
    "If you don't mind, I'd like to spend a bit of time conferring with my client and these individuals from the local paranormal superhuman society."
    "Perfectly within your rights, head right in," Reilly told them.
    "I trust, young man," Smith batted Reilly with his cane, "that there's been none of that old-style police brutality?"
    "No, none sir, I swear. He hasn't been touched."
    "I know about you people."
    They were escorted through the layers of security to the variant holding area. Felix was looking his usual inscrutable self.
    "Mr. Catt, what sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into today?" Smith inquired as they were left alone.
    "You're wearing the same cologne, Larry," Felix sighed forbearingly.
    "All gentlemen of stature wear this cologne, and who's this Larry fellow you're talking about?"
    Scott went looking for recording devices. He'd have been surprised to find something so underhanded, but one couldn't be too careful. Nothing.
    "Well, you have a few minutes alone with him, boss," Larry resumed his usual voice.
    Scott sighed, uncertain where to begin.
    "What?" Felix asked.
    "He's got one more hit on his list of things, so if we leave you here for a little bit he'll probably show that it's not you. Nice little run at imitating you, but not quite right."
    "Apparently there's a matter of style," Privateer noted.
    "I've noticed, young man, that these things always come down to a matter of style," Larry informed him. "Nice cape, by the way."
    Scott shrugged. "He's missing a few of your items, has a few that you don't use... there's a certain je ne sais quoi that's just not there."
    "Apparently there's a new item, a bracelet of desert storms?" the visitor mentioned.
    "It was part of the collection that they found," Felix nodded. "Did he take a rod, about yea long?"
    "Took that, too."
    "Oh."
    "Went through your files, unless you're the one who went and deleted everything in your computer."
    Golden eyes shuttered themselves completely. "I can't confirm or deny anything, Scott. I'm sorry."
    "Okay." So the direct route wasn't going to work.
    "Larry, I need you to get me out on bail. As soon as possible."
    "But... Felix, we just have to wait for him to make this other hit, and you're clear," he pointed out.
    "I need to get out on bail, now," he repeated stonily.
    Larry's eyes narrowed. "What are you playing at here?"
    "It's personal," he replied after a moment. "Please, Scott, you just have to trust me. You just have to give me this chance."
    "He's using a kopesh. Don't," Scott suggested. "That way we can tell you apart. He's got the same headgear." He still wasn't entirely sure what was behind all of this.
    "Just out of curiosity, the riddle that 'I' left behind—what was it?" Felix asked.
    "The last one?"
    "Yes. Do you know where he's going?"
    "King's Church Cemetery."
    "May I see it?"
    Scott recited the latest riddle.
    "Okay." He nodded, smiling slightly, inscrutably. "Larry, see to my bail."
    "As you wish," his friend sighed, slipping back into the Smith character. Harrison was waiting for them at the door. "As we finish talking with my client, he is completely innocent of all charges."
    "I find that very difficult to believe," was the smirking reply.
    "You are a prosecuting attorney; you find everything difficult to believe. That's your job. I am a more believing soul. I also believe that I should have an appointment with the judge fairly quickly. Bail is required for this young man, as is his right."
    "Young man?"
    "He's young compared to me. And to your soul. Shall we?" One of the greatest actors of the age—and one of the best criminal minds as well—followed the Assistant D.A. down the hall, smiling to himself.
    "Should anyone be trailing Felix?" Privateer asked Scott. "If not for his own safety...."
    "His safety isn't going to be threatened this early in the game," Scott decided. Assuming he was correct about what the game was, of course.
    A short while later Reilly called to let him know that Felix had made bail. "Whoever that lawyer is he's got, he's pretty good. Talked the judge into it with no problem."
    "I'll let him know you said so."
    "I don't quite know where they got the money for the bail, it was rather steep.... Do you think he's gonna try and pull something here?"
    "Nothing illegal. I can almost guarantee you it wasn't him."
    "I certainly hope so, I really like the guy. They've been helpful before. But this is looking pretty damning, at least from the point of Assistant District Attorney Harrison. If there's another crime where Felix has just gotten out on bail and then he tries to skip town, they'll lock him up for long enough...."
    "We'll skip the fact that he would have tossed airport security into the harbor," Scott pointed out.
    "That's one of the reasons why I think it's not him, but... just keep me informed."
    "I will."
    Privateer headed over to the base to satisfy some personal curiosity and see if he could figure out whether Felix had been leaving or arriving, and where he'd been taken. No one had flown under his name in the past week there or at any of the smaller airports nearby, but that was hardly surprising. He'd been in the arrivals section, either just gotten off a plane or waiting for someone else. A flight from Greece had come in not long before then. When the police had pulled their guns he had asked them what was going on and been told, "You think we don't know after all these museums you've been robbing?" He had surrendered without further incident.
    The Swordbearer went from the base to Logan Airport to get more information. None of the security officers had noticed anything, but after an hour of interviewing people he found a stewardess on the Greek flight who had noticed the large man sitting near the back of the plane, who had been quite charming in his conversation. So Felix hadn't even been in the country while the museums were being robbed; that flight had landed at four in the morning, and he'd been arrested soon thereafter. All he would have needed to do was explain that fact, and he could have avoided all the trouble. Obviously, he'd had a reason not to do so....

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