"Like I said, more or less by accident." I told her the story again. "I was about to chuck it, then I took a second to mull it over. That's when I got to wondering why the numbers seemed so inconsistent. Next thing I noticed was the new list of players. All of a sudden the heavens opened. A vision." I got up to freshen my brandy, then came back. She was still sitting there, maybe too exhausted to think straight. "But I take it you don't believe my little epiphany means anything?"
"Since I don't know what it means, I'm not going to engage in a lot of uninformed speculation."
Good Christ, I thought, what's happened to all her reputed brilliance?
"You know," she went on, "I don't think you should be taking any more documents out of the office. There's a reason for all the security."
"Hey, back off. I just have boundless curiosity." I still couldn't fathom her lack of interest . . . no, make that hostility. "Look, I don't claim to understand how birds fly, how fish swim, or how this whole damned picture fits together. However, my new, albeit uninformed, observation is that Noda and Company are not exactly giving us the fine print on their scenario. Exhibit A: this strange new list."
"I think some fresh air would be nice." She rose to her feet, located her shoes, and strolled over to look out at the garden. The sleet and snow was about a foot and a half deep. "Why don't we go into the back?"
"What?" I stumbled to my feet. "Do you have any idea . . ."
She looked at me a bit funny, then made some hand signals.
Huh?
Finally I realized she was telling me she didn't want to say anything more inside the house.