"The van?" Scott asked.
"Yeah, the van. The van that busted up the McBreakfast crowd."
"What about it?"
Ben hurried. "Well, it was some sort of high tech lab on wheels.
Computers and radios and stuff. Pretty wild."
"Why's that so unusual? Phone company, computer repair place,
EPA monitors, could be anything." Scott seemed disinterested.
"If that were true, you're right. But this was a private van, and there's no indication of what company it worked for. And the driver's dead. Personal ID only. No company, no numbers, no nothing, except this."
He handed a sheaf of computer printouts to Scott. "Look familiar?"
Scott took the papers and perused them. They were the same kind that Scott had received from Vito, his unknown donor. These were new documents as far as Scott could tell - he didn't recognize them as part of his library. They only contained some stock tips and insider trading information from a leading Wall Street bro- kerage house. Pretty tame stuff.
"These," Scott pointed at the papers, "these were in the van?"
"That's what I said," Ben said triumphantly.