Read The Pandora Directive: A Tex Murphy Novel for Free Online Page B

carrot juice blend.”
    “What’d you do? Quit the PI business and sign up with Robco? I don’t wanna buy a damn juicer — and I don’t like wise guys coming in my office and annoying me! So get out!”
    “Ok. Calm down, Mac I’m just kidding you. I actually have a reason for stopping by. I want you to look at something.”
    I pulled the notes from my coat pocket, unfolded them, and set them in front of Mac. He lit another smoke and looked them over carefully. Then he motioned for me to close his office door.
    “Where did you get these?” his tone of voice was startlingly unfamiliar. He was looking directly at me, without a hint of the usual acid gruffness or antagonisms.
    “A client gave them to me.”
    Mac handed the notes back to me, then pulled a sheet of paper and pen and out of a desk drawer. Mac scribbled on the paper as he spoke. “They’re meaningless. I wouldn’t worry about it.” he held the sheet of paper in front of me. I can’t talk. Someone might be listening.
    I mouthed “Who?” then spoke aloud as Mac wrote some more. “Yeah, that’s what I figured, but I thought I’d check it out.”
    Mac held up the paper. NSA. Hot damn. The National Security Agency only got involved in big stuff. Apparently I’d stumbled into something a helluva lot bigger than I’d bargained for. I took the paper from Mac and picked up pencil from the desk. What do you know about these notes?
    Mac took the sheet of paper. “Did you see the Giants game last night?” He scribbled.
    I took my time answering. “Naw. I went out. I haven’t seen the paper yet today. Who won?”
    “Dodgers, five to four. Got three in the ninth. Manousakis hit one into the third deck.” he passed me the paper. Black Arrow killer — murdered seven or eight in AZ and NV over the past two years. Arrow symbol referred to in case notes. Another girl murdered here few weeks ago — similar note found. Investigation shut down by Feds.
    I wanted to ask Mac more, but he had that get out of my office light in his eyes.
    “Well, it was good to see you, Mac. We’ll have to go catch a game at Candlestick sometime.” I got up to leave.
    Mac opened a desk drawer and searched through it. “Oh, Tex, on your way out, could you drop this letter off for me? I’d sure appreciate it.” I took a business card from him and stuck in a pocket.
    “No Problem, Mac. I’ll see you around.”
    Patty was on the vid-phone and let me leave without the usual double entendres and hollow hints at future trysts. I was eager to look at the card Mac had given me but decided to wait until I reached the relative privacy of my office.
    The business card was ragged and cheaply made. It read: Lucas Pernell — Investigative Reporter. The printed number had been crossed out and a new number written in pencil. It didn’t look promising, but Mac hadn’t given it to me for no reason. I punched in the number on my vid-phone.
    “Bay City Mirror. Circulation. How may I help you?”
    “Lucas Pernell, please.”
    The video relay was off, and I assumed that the voice had been computer-generated. Amazingly, it wasn’t. “Who?”
    “Pernell. Lucas Pernell.”
    “Do you know the extension of the party?”
    “No, I don’t. I was just given this number.”
    “Please hold.”
    Elevator Muzak piped through my Vid-phone speakers. An orchestral version of “Scream at the Sky” from Soundgarden’s final album. An oldie, but a goodie. A voice finally cut in. “Who are you holding for?”
    “Lucas Pernell.”
    “One moment, please.”
    A minute or so later, the phone beeped and yet another voice popped out of my speakers. “This is Pernell.”
    “Mr Pernell, my name is Tex Murphy. I’m a PI and a friend of Mac Malden. He gave me this number.”
    “Is this some kind of joke? I don’t know any Mac Malden.”
    Either this was a big mistake, or maybe Pernell was testing me. “Hmm… maybe I got the name wrong. Anyway I have some notes that might interest you.”
    There was a