saying, “We don't need to set up Rett's computer just to read his mail, or responses that came to my ID. I haven't deleted anything from his hard disk, though, so if there's something on that—"
“Not today,” she said, “but please warn me before you delete anything, just in case."
“For now that computer's a spare. The university shunted Rett's students into other courses and sections. He won't be replaced until next semester. His computer will only be needed if someone else's breaks down."
“Okay. Let's see what's in the mail."
Dan turned on his monitor and with a few keystrokes entered the mail facility. There were several replies to the messages Brandy had sent last week, all saying they were sorry to hear about Land's death but offering no clues to the man's mysterious past.
There was another cryptic chess move: “Pawn to King's Knight four."
“Is that from the same person as the first one?” Brandy asked.
Dan compared ID's. “No. He must have had two games going. Funny—Rett wasn't in the campus chess club. If he was enough of a chess fanatic to play by mail, why would he ignore local sources of a game?"
“Two possibilities,” said Brandy. “One is that these are not chess moves, but code for something else entirely."
“That's a nice mysterious theory. What's the other?"
“A clue to Everett Land's former identity."
“How do you figure that?"
“Something Church once told me, from his work in Chicago's Organized Crime Division. When criminals take on new identities, it's not names or dates or jobs that make it possible to find them. It's hobbies."
“Really?"
“One mob boss who disappeared to the Bahamas was an avid coin collector. They advertised some coin that would fill in a gap in his collection, and followed the purchaser straight to the man. Another time it was someone who liked a very specific kind of pornography. He was so dumb he sent in a change-of-address form to some skin magazine!"
“So dumb or so obsessed,” Dan said. “This is absolutely fascinating, Brandy."
“We can trace backwards as well as forwards,” said Brandy. “Dr. Land was good enough at chess to play by mail, yet he didn't play locally. Another chess-playing college professor wouldn't stand out much, would he?"
“No. Probably fifteen to twenty-five percent of any university's faculty play."
“What would be the most likely reason for Dr. Land not to join the university chess club?"
“Ordinarily I'd say he didn't feel qualified. But given his play by mail, perhaps he didn't want to call attention to himself. If he had excelled he'd have been pushed into tournaments."
“He wasn't afraid to appear at academic conferences,” said Brandy. “Probably something he didn't do in his former life. He earned his Ph.D. after he became Everett Land. If he stopped playing chess when he changed his identity, it could be because he'd be recognized in chess circles. Dan—what if that money he had was won in chess tournaments?"
He was staring at her. “You're amazing."
“I'm speculating,” she corrected, “but I have to check it out. Let's go to the library."
The university library was the largest in West Kentucky. The budget constraints of recent years did not affect its older holdings, so it didn't take long for Dan and Brandy to locate Chess Review for the 1960's.
There were photos of regional, national, and world champions, including one Marvin Clement of Monsey, New York, Northeast Regional Champion for 1966 and 1967, U.S. Champion for 1968, and semi-finalist in the World Championship for 1969. And after that year he disappeared from the records.
“What an incredibly cautious man,” said Dan. “He must have set himself a specific amount, and when he reached it, he changed identities.” For the face in the photos was that of the man Jackson Purchase State University had known as Everett C. Land.
“It would be hard to come that close to being world champion, and not go for it,” said Brandy.
“Not today,” she said, “but please warn me before you delete anything, just in case."
“For now that computer's a spare. The university shunted Rett's students into other courses and sections. He won't be replaced until next semester. His computer will only be needed if someone else's breaks down."
“Okay. Let's see what's in the mail."
Dan turned on his monitor and with a few keystrokes entered the mail facility. There were several replies to the messages Brandy had sent last week, all saying they were sorry to hear about Land's death but offering no clues to the man's mysterious past.
There was another cryptic chess move: “Pawn to King's Knight four."
“Is that from the same person as the first one?” Brandy asked.
Dan compared ID's. “No. He must have had two games going. Funny—Rett wasn't in the campus chess club. If he was enough of a chess fanatic to play by mail, why would he ignore local sources of a game?"
“Two possibilities,” said Brandy. “One is that these are not chess moves, but code for something else entirely."
“That's a nice mysterious theory. What's the other?"
“A clue to Everett Land's former identity."
“How do you figure that?"
“Something Church once told me, from his work in Chicago's Organized Crime Division. When criminals take on new identities, it's not names or dates or jobs that make it possible to find them. It's hobbies."
“Really?"
“One mob boss who disappeared to the Bahamas was an avid coin collector. They advertised some coin that would fill in a gap in his collection, and followed the purchaser straight to the man. Another time it was someone who liked a very specific kind of pornography. He was so dumb he sent in a change-of-address form to some skin magazine!"
“So dumb or so obsessed,” Dan said. “This is absolutely fascinating, Brandy."
“We can trace backwards as well as forwards,” said Brandy. “Dr. Land was good enough at chess to play by mail, yet he didn't play locally. Another chess-playing college professor wouldn't stand out much, would he?"
“No. Probably fifteen to twenty-five percent of any university's faculty play."
“What would be the most likely reason for Dr. Land not to join the university chess club?"
“Ordinarily I'd say he didn't feel qualified. But given his play by mail, perhaps he didn't want to call attention to himself. If he had excelled he'd have been pushed into tournaments."
“He wasn't afraid to appear at academic conferences,” said Brandy. “Probably something he didn't do in his former life. He earned his Ph.D. after he became Everett Land. If he stopped playing chess when he changed his identity, it could be because he'd be recognized in chess circles. Dan—what if that money he had was won in chess tournaments?"
He was staring at her. “You're amazing."
“I'm speculating,” she corrected, “but I have to check it out. Let's go to the library."
The university library was the largest in West Kentucky. The budget constraints of recent years did not affect its older holdings, so it didn't take long for Dan and Brandy to locate Chess Review for the 1960's.
There were photos of regional, national, and world champions, including one Marvin Clement of Monsey, New York, Northeast Regional Champion for 1966 and 1967, U.S. Champion for 1968, and semi-finalist in the World Championship for 1969. And after that year he disappeared from the records.
“What an incredibly cautious man,” said Dan. “He must have set himself a specific amount, and when he reached it, he changed identities.” For the face in the photos was that of the man Jackson Purchase State University had known as Everett C. Land.
“It would be hard to come that close to being world champion, and not go for it,” said Brandy.
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