The weekend after my Raleigh trip was full of more research, both in the library and at the local companies. Having already visited those companies, I knew where to look for the information and it was a simple matter to get the quarterly number. Updating those files took little time. Creating files for the three new companies, however, was very time consuming. With mid-term tests coming up though, this was my last chance to get this work done.

As with the first time that I made trades, the tough part was getting enough information to justify my ‘predictions’. In a sense, I was working backwards from my conclusions. For instance, I knew that Sun Energy Systems would have another massive drop, as their new technology had failed and the rumors of a breakthrough, that had powered their stock price back up since their last quarter decline, were about to be shot down. They had missed their numbers again, by an even wider margin this time. So, I knew that I was going to short the stock yet again, but I had to find a credible reason for it or James would get even more suspicious. I had the same type of problem with the new biotechnology company that I found in Raleigh, except they’d had successful trials and the news hadn’t hit yet.

I though about not telling James about either company, because it would make my life so much easier, but I couldn’t do that to him. Instead, I spent hours on Lexis-Nexis, poring over articles and then more hours on the internet, searching out every rumor that I could find. It wasn’t easy, but in the end, I found just enough in the articles and in the comment section to provide some measure of support for my recommendations. Thank goodness there were only two more quarters before the competition ended and then I could make my trades without having to justify them as rigorously.

With all the research that I’d had to do, I’d declared the weekend to be a shield practice free time. The last few weeks of practice had been fruitful, but grueling. I could hold the shield easily now for about 25 seconds and for about 25 more with increasing difficulty. Once, I’d even managed 57 seconds, but that had been right after I woke up and I was full of energy. The problem with the training was that I was always tired, and I had to hide that fact from everyone, or they would start asking questions that I didn’t want to answer.

Seeing as how I’d finished working on my company files and still had some weekend left, I took out the printout of the police file and went over it again. Nothing had changed since the last time I’d read it. It was a big disappointment. There wasn’t anything of substance in there that I hadn’t already known. The facts of the kidnapping were exactly how John had presented them. Over the years, John had also updated us on every angle of pursuit that the police were following, so even there the report was a letdown. There didn’t seem to be anything I could do that the police hadn’t done already.

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The only lead the police really had were the kidnappers themselves and one was dead and the other was in jail. Dead men tell no tales and the jailbird wasn’t singing.

Len Johnson had been interviewed many times, once he woke up from the coma, and he’d never said a word besides, “I want to speak with my lawyer.” He ignored every question asked of him and he refused to testify at his own hearing. He just sat there during the whole court case. His attitude didn’t earn him any points with the judge, who ended up giving him the maximum sentence of 25 years for his crimes.

Over the years, John had tried to get in to talk to Len, but Len always refused to meet with him or anyone in law enforcement. Even offers to reduce his sentence, if he helped them find my mom, were ignored. I briefly wondered if he’d meet with me, but I discarded the idea for many reasons. First, there was no way dad would let me go. Second, there was no way John would let me go. Third, there was no way that he’d say anything useful after all these years. He may have known where mom was being taken, but after his capture, I have no doubt that she was moved somewhere that Len had never heard of. I did spend a pleasant few minutes fantasizing about talking to him and getting a break in the case. In all my imaginings, the ‘how’ I’d succeed in getting him to talk was always hazy.

Although, one daydream seemed almost possible. I’d go see him and he’d pretend to be all reformed, but I wouldn’t believe him, of course. Then when I left, he’d go make a call, only instead of leaving, I’d actually have gone to the bathroom and then I’d shift to R1 and watch him make his call. I’d write down the number while the phone was ringing and I’d hear him say, “This is Len. Tell Jimmy that she came around asking questions.”, and then he’d hang up. I’d have John follow up on the number and then we’d find whoever Jimmy was and he’d lead us to mom. Case solved; mom saved!

That might work in the movies or the comic books. There was a thread of possibility to it. Real life isn’t so neat. However, my daydream did successfully distract me enough that my subconscious had time to work on the problem and provide a way forward. The police report had mentioned that police officers had gone to Len’s mother’s house to talk to her and to do a search of Len’s room there. The report had also mentioned her address. What I just realized was that her address was only 45 minutes from here. I couldn’t talk to Len, but I could talk to Len’s mom. It wasn’t much, but it was something.