Before I could get to Merlin’s door, Kim came out of her office and pulled me aside. I was startled when she high-fived me. “Looks like we were right about you know who,” she said smugly.
“Yeah, we were. Go, us,” I said without much enthusiasm.
“He was talking to Idris before that speech. I’m sure he was the one who told Idris all that stuff about Owen.”
“Really?” That was what we’d all suspected, but it was nice to get a little more evidence. Not that a brief chat before a speech was real proof. “Thanks for the tip. Now, I need to talk to the boss.” She gave me a “be my guest” wave.
“Have you spoken to Mr. Palmer since yesterday?” Merlin asked as soon as I entered his office.
“No, not since lunchtime. Why? Did something happen?” I sat in the nearest chair before the sudden surge of fear could make my knees go weak.
“His resignation was waiting for me when I returned to the office yesterday afternoon.”
“He quit?”
“For the good of the company.” Merlin said with a deep sigh. “And I am afraid he was correct. Three more large customers wanted to cancel their contracts this morning, and I was only able to persuade them not to by assuring them that Mr. Palmer was no longer in our employ.”
“So you’re throwing him under the bus,” I said.
“That is a very colorful turn of phrase, but not entirely accurate.”
“Yeah, but it works out well for the company,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair and folding my arms across my chest. “It makes for good damage control.”
“Which was his reason for resigning,” Merlin said firmly. “He’s putting the good of the company first, which gives us the opportunity to contain the situation.” He sighed in deep resignation and sagged against the back of his chair. “I hope you have made some progress.”
I told him what I’d learned, then said, “Do you have any pictures of the Morgans I can use for identification?”
“Pictures of them are quite rare.”
“I wonder if Ramsay had anything to do with that—keeping his secret until he could use it. Owen found some pictures in an old club directory, and he does look a lot like them. If everyone knew what the Morgans looked like, it wouldn’t have been a secret for long.”
“That may very well be the case. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a photograph of them.” Merlin got up from his desk and thumbed through a few of the books on his shelf, then shook his head. “No, I am afraid I have nothing.”
“It was worth a shot,” I said. It was time for Plan B, and Owen looked enough like his supposed mother that someone might be able to make a connection. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any photos of my own boyfriend, which probably said something about the history of our relationship. We’d always been too busy trying to save the world to pose for pictures.
I headed for Owen’s lab and got Jake to let me into the department. “I don’t suppose you have any pictures of Owen lying around?” I asked him.
“Someone once brought a camera to a department party,” he said. There was a crowded bulletin board over his desk, with pictures overlapping each other, and he searched through them. “He’s bad about vanishing as soon as a camera comes out, but wait, here’s one where he didn’t get out of the way in time.” He unpinned a photo and handed it to me.
The photo focused on Jake and a couple of other guys in lab coats and Santa hats. On the edge of the picture, Owen was leaning over a lab table and had just looked up. It wasn’t a shot worthy of a Men of Magic calendar, but it looked enough like Owen to work. “Can I take this?” I asked.
“Sure. No problem.”
“I’ll bring it back.”
“There’s no hurry.” He worried his lower lip with his teeth, then asked, “How’s he doing? Have you seen him—or do you need that because he’s gone missing?”
“He’s fine, just a bit upset. Next time I see him, I’ll tell him you asked after him.”
Armed with photos, I caught a subway train uptown and got off near Little Italy, then walked to the fire station. It was an old station that looked a lot like the toy firehouse my brother Teddy used to have. Right next door was a church, and I wondered then if the baby might have been left at the church, then discovered by the firemen. The baby left on the church steps was such a cliché. Did anyone actually do that in real life?
The bay door was open, and a couple of firefighters stood outside, leaning against a wall. “Can I help you with somethin’, miss?” one of them asked, and my first instinct was to look up to see if Sam was perched nearby. The voice, accent, and way of speaking were almost identical.