On the Jacket

"I've got bad news, and more bad news," Barnes said over the phone. "Are you ready?"

This didn't sound promising. "Yeah, go ahead."

"To begin with, I can't find any records of a Robin Taft prior to her wardship under Doctor Khan Taft. I checked through Egyptian records, where the papers were supposedly filed, but they don't have the original file. So her papers are probably forged."

"Uh-huh."

"It gets better. There's no record of her in any international databases, so I've got no clue where she's from. She's got no paperwork on file in America. Not even a social security card."

"What?..."

"So I decided to go out to Taft's place, to get a better look at this mystery girl. This is where the more bad news comes in. She's not there."

"Not there!"

"In fact, that lab you told me about is empty. I looked through the windows, and it looks like all the gear was cleaned out."

"No..."

"Yeah. I checked the house itself best I could, and it looks like nothing's been removed from there. Nothing large, anyway, maybe some clothes. I've got an associate watching the house, now. But she hasn't turned back up."

"You sure she's not just in there, and..." I didn't finish the thought. Something told me I knew what he was going to say. He didn't let me down.

"I checked the house. She's not in there."

He went silent at his end. I ran a hand through my hair, at a total loss. "She took nothing else in the house."

"Right."

"But she took everything out of the lab."

"Right."

"And now she's gone."

"Well, she's not there now," Barnes stated flatly. "She might still come back."

"What can we do now?"

"Well, on the chance that she arranged to have the stuff shipped out, I'm checking truck rental agencies to see if anyone's got a record of her. I'm also checking the area to see if anyone saw a truck in the area. But chances are, she did it last night after you left."

"Christ..." I had developed a headache. This was getting very unreal. I kept thinking: This shit doesn't happen to people in real life... I thought of Janson. I couldn't stay in town, I had to fly home. But if she came back...

"Listen, Barnes, I've got to get back to St. Louis. I want you to keep watching for her, and let me know if she turns up. No... find out where she went, if she's not coming back. Here's my number down there." I passed my home and work numbers on to him, and instructed him to check any medical supply houses to see if the equipment turned up.

I flew back to town that night. I saw old man Janson the next morning, and together we concocted a story plausible enough to fool his wife. Luckily for me, his busted leg was nothing a machine shop couldn't fix, although without Taft's equipment, the "skin" was going to show a visible scar. I did the best I could with it, but Janson still bitched about the scar and demanded I fix that, too.

I kept in touch with Barnes throughout the next two weeks. A few items which matched some of the fairly common equipment in Taft's lab, had turned up piecemeal in various supply houses and hospitals. No one could describe the person who had brought them in, or identify Robin Taft. No truck rental records were found, and no trace of the serious equipment turned up anywhere. Doctor Khan Taft's bank account was emptied, paid in cash to a young woman at a branch office on the outskirts of town. The woman departed with the money in a briefcase, and no one saw which way she went.

American Airlines had a record of a plane ticket, bought by Dr. Khan Taft, to Miami, Florida, leaving early the morning she disappeared. There was no sign that the account had been used since, in Florida or anywhere else.

Robin Taft, of course, was nowhere to be found.

  Buy Robin

Among other things, this story suggests a future in which prostitution is essentially legalized in the U.S. As such, it becomes a legitimate business tool and a means of shmoozing clients and potential employees.

As opposed to today, where prostitution is illegal, but it is used as a business tool nonetheless...