The Sleeper Read Online Free PDF Page B

into my online briefcase. Then one by one I clicked on the nicknames in the chat room to get their user profiles. Tiger-eye wore the hijab, the veil, and was looking for a husband. Slaveofallah was a student in Minnesota. SAD412—“not available.” Friendlyboy did not list a name, but there was an address, in Spain, in Granada. In itself that was strange. And there was the coincidence of the letter opener. I clicked the Start button on the Windows program and launched the “Find” function for files containing text “Granada.”
    I pulled the phones off one ear. I could hear Abu Seif’s children running upstairs, and one of his wives in the kitchen. But I was sure they wouldn’t bother us. They’d be trained not to see, or be seen by, strange men in the house, and Abu Seif must have told them I was here when he went out to get the tea.
    In a box on the screen, a little magnifying-glass icon circled clockwise over a little page icon. Circling. Circling. I heard SAD412 proclaiming all Arab rulers kafir, or unbelievers. Circling. Circling. A message appeared on the screen: “There are no items to show in this view.”
    I typed in “Grenada.” The magnifying glass circled. Nothing.
    Someone was knocking at the door. I took off the headphone to hear better. Sounded like a small hand knocking. A child’s. And she wasn’t giving up. “Baba?” I could hear her voice. “Baba?” I didn’t see a lock on the door. If it opened, there would be a baby standing there, looking at her dead father, and at me. In a kind of panic I pulled the earphone jack out of the socket. The room was filled with SAD412’s voice denouncing the hypocrite rulers of Arabia. The little girl quit knocking. Hearing men talking, she went away.
    The files in My Documents were mostly in Arabic. I uploaded everything after August 1 into my Yahoo page so it would be stored online for me to access anytime from anywhere.
    Abu Seif’s skin was white now beneath his beard. His black eyes were still open and clouded like wax paper. “Welcome to Paradise,” I said, and pulled the letter opener out of the back of his neck. I wiped the blood off on his robe, put the blade under the leg of the desk and jerked up so it snapped. It made an okay screwdriver. I lifted the cover off the computer’s tower to expose its innards.
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    â€œJump Start Restaurant, best burgers in Kansas, what can we do for you?” Behind Betsy’s voice I could hear the clatter of dishes. Lunch would be over now, and she’d be ending her shift soon.
    â€œHey, Sugar,” I said, careful not to use her name and hoping she’d remember not to use mine.
    â€œWhy how you doin’, Sunshine?”
    I laughed. That’s my girl, I thought. We were more than lovers, she told me one time, more than husband and wife. “We’re accomplices,” she said. I never forgot that because it was just so right.
    â€œI’m fine. Just fine,” I said. “Customers paying their bills?” The first check should have arrived from Griffin’s shop, and that should help put Betsy’s mind at ease. She always worried about money, and she had a right to. We lived pretty close to the edge sometimes.
    â€œSo far so good,” said Betsy.
    â€œGlad to hear that. Sometimes they stiff you, you know. I always feel like, when they pay up, you ought to cash that check and put it away someplace safe. Someplace they can’t find it.”
    â€œSounds like good advice,” she said. “So what can I do for you?”
    â€œI was hoping I could make a reservation there for a big party around my birthday.”
    â€œWhen would that be?”
    â€œFebruary second,” I said. Not my birthday, in fact. “Groundhog Day. By then, we’ll know if winter’s over.”
    I heard a dish shatter on the floor. “My goodness,” said Betsy, “you do plan in