Half a block from the library, Kush stopped. He couldn't get it out of his head: It just might be something.

He had to call Steve Blanchard.

There was time. John Achatz would be walking from his Mt. Vernon Street house--easily three quarters of a mile even if he cut through Boston's Boston Common. A quick call to Blanchard, and he could still beat John to the Library.

With his aversion to consumer electronics, Kush had developed an encyclopedic knowledge of Boston's remaining pay telephones. He headed to the bank of phones at Newbury and Dartmouth.

Blanchard would be irritated to be called so early, he mused. Tough: it would be fair payback for that trick with the doctored Rubik's Cube.