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Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King and its characters belong to WB and Shoot the Moon Productions. No infringement is intended. This is written for entertainment purposes only. Please do not redistribute or reproduce this story without our permission.

Authors: Alleycat, Lisa, NancyY, Taya, Cheryl, Lynda, Miranda, and JenniLee
Where was the smoking gun? Every case had one figuratively,
something that gave the killer away, nailed his or her hide to the
proverbial wall, but this case, had one literally- and it was
missing. Till it turned up all they had was speculation. With the
kind of people they were dealing with, trained assassins- that would
never be enough to convict the killer.

A conviction was definitely a long ways off, since everybody at the
agency was a suspect, including the Janitor. Well not quite
everybody. There were three people listed on the Agency payroll that
couldn't have possibly done it. Lee Stetson and Amanda King were in
the clear because they were out of the country when the murder took
place.

Since the investigation was better handled in-house, and two of the
Agency's best agents were now back on American soil and more than
capable of leading the investigation, 8:00 AM the following morning
found Scarecrow and his partner, now known by the code name of
Sparrow, seated in the Oval office, having an audience with the
President.

Word from the White House was that foreign interests were already
laughing at the debacle of one of the Agency's own being snuffed out
and the entire intelligence community still being stumped a week
later as to the identity of the perpetrator. When the President of
the United States tells you he wants the killer found immediately or
he will disband the whole entity known as the Agency, you tend to
take him seriously, especially with his face turning that mottled
shade of red.

After they left sixteen hundred Pennsylvania Avenue, Scarecrow and
Sparrow decided to head back to the agency and go over the case
file, since they had very little opportunity to do more than glance
at it while in the President's office.

The file told them nothing. It seems that the murder took place
during a retirement party for Paul `Jester' McMillan. Jester had
been with the agency since the doors opened the first day. There was
no one who didn't like him, so his party had drawn a huge turnout,
including quite a few retired Agents. The number of people at the
building when the crime occurred was just one of the problems that
made the crime so difficult to solve. The thing that made the case
almost impossible to be solved, was that the killer struck during a
power outage. Scarecrow and Sparrow thought that most interesting
because the agency was on a backup generator, but it had failed to
respond. Coincidence? They thought not.

After deciding the case file wasn't going to be of any more help at
the moment, Lee and Amanda knew that their next step was to see what
the only other person whom couldn't have possibly committed the
murder could tell them. Well he couldn't tell them anything
literally anymore since he was the victim, but they knew from past
experience that the body of the deceased often told a tale, so they
headed over to the City Morgue. Once they reached their destination,
they showed the attendant on duty their ID's since they were the
only non morgue employees allowed access to prevent evidence
tampering, gaining access to the corpse took about half an hour
longer than usual, while their identities were verified. Finally
after the long wait they were shown into the room and the attendant
pulled out the drawer of the victim, one Austin Smyth.

It was almost eerie seeing him without his trademark cigarette
holder in his mouth. The attendant pulled the sheet off the body.
Amanda looked away. Even dead, something about seeing Austin
Smyth's naked body repulsed her.

"As you can see," the attendant pointed to the hole in his
chest. "There is an entry wound here, going through to his heart
and exiting the back." He rolled the body on its side, showing the
exit wound.

Lee stepped closer. "Looks like the bullet went in at an angle.
The exit hole is about three inches lower than its entry."

The attendant began to lower the body.

"Wait!" Amanda pointed to a mark on the back of Smyth's
neck. "What's that?"

Lee picked up a magnifying glass and examined it. "It looks like a
small puncture wound, maybe from a hypodermic needle."

"Look down there, there's some odd bruising on his buttocks." The
attendant pointed out before rolling him onto his back. "And some
scrapes on his knees also."

"Lee, look at his neck." Amanda pointed to a thin red line that
circled his neck.

"Okay, let me get this straight. We have a bullet hole in his
heart, what looks like a strangulation mark around his neck, a tiny
puncture wound on the back of his neck, bruising on his butt and
scrapes on his knees?"

"Yes sir." The attendant covered the body.

"Do we have the results of the autopsy yet?"

"No." He looked at his watch. "But it should be done within the
hour."

"Send it to the Agency by messenger as soon as it's done. Make sure
it gets straight to me and no one else." Lee placed his hand on
Amanda's back and led her out of the room.

"Lee, what do you think actually killed Dr. Smyth?"

Amanda leaned back in the passenger seat and stared out the window.
The short drive back to the Agency seemed to take forever.

"Lee?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't get the image of that poor man out of my mind. He looked
so . . . so . . . forlorn. Why would anyone want to k--?" Lee's
arched eyebrow brought her back to reality. "Okay, that's not the
right question. Why would someone kill him at the Agency? I mean,
with all the agents around, and the security cameras? They' have to
know the place pretty well."

"That's what worries me." Lee replied. "You know, there must have
been more than one person in on it. The perpetrator would have had
to get to the fuses in the basement and kill the power, then make it
back up to Smyth's office, in the dark. No, I think there are at
least two people involved."

"That's not making me feel any better about it." Amanda turned
toward Lee, her eyes wide. "That means at least two of our friends
are murderers."

"Yeah. I don't like it, either." His fingers clenched on the
steering wheel. "Well, let's go over what we do know. Smyth was
killed in his locked office while the party was in full swing, during
a power outage that lasted precisely forty-five seconds. Ragmop
found him slumped over his desk, with his pants down around his
ankles, and that crumpled note in his hand."

Amanda shifted in her seat. "That's the strange part. The
handwriting on it doesn't match anyone at the Agency. It just said,
*Meet me at 8:00, you know where*. No prints on it--nothing. It's
too strange. What's our next step?"

"Well, I think we need to search Smyth's office. I know Forensics
did it already, but maybe they missed something." Lee swung the car
into the Agency's underground parking lot.

"Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"What about the pants? Isn't that kinda strange, too?"

"I don't want to even think about the pants." Lee felt a chill run
down his spine. He walked around the ‘Vette and held out his hand
for Amanda. "Let's go take a look around Smyth's office."

"Lee, look at this." Amanda motioned to an envelope on the desk.

"It's addressed to me. Where did you find this?" Lee turned a
large manila envelope over in his hands.

"In Smyth's own agency file. Are you going to open it?"

He picked up the silver letter opener from the desk and sliced it
open. Tipping it over one sheet of paper and a computer disk slid
out.

Amanda picked up the paper and began to read.

*Scarecrow and Sparrow,

If you are reading this, then the grim reaper has come to collect
me. No matter how much I dislike you and your methods, you are the
best agents that I have and I want you to solve my murder.*

"How the hell did he know he was murdered? Lee leaned closer to
read over her shoulder.

*You are probably asking how I knew I would be murdered. Simple.
Everyone hates my guts. Not that I ever cared a great deal about
any of them either.

Enclosed is a disk containing the passwords to all of my personal
files. You may find your own files very interesting.

Good luck,
Austin Smyth*

Lee walked over to the computer and placed the disk into the disk
drive and pulled up the main menu.

"It looks like he has a file on every person who's ever worked for
the Agency." Amanda pulled a chair up next to him.

Lee scrolled down to his own file and opened it. "I guess we'd
better see what the ole' bastard had on us."

"Oh my gosh!"

It was worse than they could have ever imagined. Not only did Smyth
have a copy of their marriage certificate, but he also had copies of
Lee's credit card bill for the honeymoon suite at the Crystal
Springs Inn and the rental car agreement in California.

Under that were pictures of Lee and Amanda spending time with their
family during Jamie's science fair, Phillip's jr. high school
baseball team's championship game, the boys Jr. Trailblazer scout
Jamboree, and Dotty's Mother of the Year awards banquet. Digging
further in the file reveled that Smyth had a copy of an unsigned
resignation form with Lee's name on it. Scarecrow made a few rude
comments about Dr. Smyth's ancestry as he continued to scroll
through the file. Finally he came upon a folder with in the file
that was triple encoded. They wondered what the old man could have
had on Lee that he felt was necessary to protect this well. There
was a nagging feeling in the back of Amanda's mind that this might
be one Pandora's box they didn't want to open but she knew her
husband wouldn't sleep until he knew what was contained within that
locked computer file.

The secret file contained. . .

The secret file contained an adoption certificate with Lee's name on
it. Biologically, Lee wasn't a Stetson. According to the papers in
front of him, he'd been born Lee Michael Matthews. Matthews was his
birth mother's last name. Her whereabouts were listed as unknown.
But the file contained an even bigger shock. It reveled the name of
his biological father as David Austin Smithson.

The paper containing the passwords, Lee was holding in his right
hand fell to the floor. His fingers had suddenly gone numb as he set
behind his late father's desk. Amanda picked the paper up and laid
it on the desk, before wrapping her arms around her husband's neck
from behind. She kissed him on the top of his head while whispering
words of comfort.

Amanda knew she had to get Lee out of there. The fact that he wasn't
ranting and raving that it wasn't true, clued her in as to how
fragile her partner's emotional state was at that moment.

She took his hand and led him through the Agency to the parking Lot.
They took the backdoor from Smyth's office because she didn't want
anyone to see him looking so lost.

Usually Lee would open her door before going around to the driver's
side and getting in, but today, he just stood there motionless.
Seeing as he was in no condition to drive, she helped him into the
passenger seat, and closed the door before going around and getting
in the driver's seat.

It was hard to concentrate on the road because she was worried about
Lee. Her mind kept searching for a way to snap him out of his semi-
trance. They made it back to his apartment safely. She didn't take
him back to her house because when Lee was ready they'd need to talk
about his adoption and in Lee's frame of mind, he might easily let
his tongue slip and mention the Agency or their `real jobs' in front
of her mother or the boys.

They made it safely to Lee's apartment building. Lee remained silent
through out the ride up the elevator and made no move to unlock the
apartment door when they reached it. Amanda opened the door and Lee
followed her inside. She said to him, "Lee why don't you have a seat
on the couch and I will fix you something to drink in the kitchen.
She went to the fridge and poured Lee a glass of punch out of the
carton. He'd probably have preferred something stronger, she
thought, but now was definitely not the time for Lee to be drinking
alcohol. Amanda had just reached out to push the kitchen door open
so she could return to the living room, when. . .

. . . she heard him sobbing on the couch. Placing the tray on the
coffee table she sat beside him and drew his quivering body to her
chest.

Still holding Lee, she picked up the adoption papers that she'd had
the forethought to print off before leaving the agency. The birth
father was listed as David Austin Smithson.

"Everything I lived was a lie." He sobbed

"No it's not. Lee, we're just assuming that Dr. Smyth is really
David Austin Smithson. We don't have any proof yet. The only thing
I know for certain is that Matthew and Jennifer Stetson *were* your
parents. They are the ones who loved you and raised you. Whether
they are or are not you're your biological parents isn't what's
important. Family is much more than biology."

"Why didn't they tell me?" He looked up at her, his face with all
the questions and wonders that her boys had when she first explained
why her and their father was getting a divorce.

"You were young. If you were adopted, you were too young to fully
understand that. And what is so bad if they were your adoptive
parents not your biological parents. From what you've told me about
them, they were wonderful loving parents. You were lucky to have
them. Right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

She smoothed the hair that had fallen over his forehead. "This is
all speculation at this point. We don't know if any of the files
that Dr. Smyth had were true or not. Can we really just blindly
trust anything that he said?"

"You're right." Lee straightened himself with a look of
determination. "We need to get to the bottom of all this, both the
old man's murder, and the things he has in his files. I don't know
if I'm ready to go back to the Agency yet though."

Amanda pulled a disk out of her purse. "There's no need. I brought
the disk with me. We should be able to access all his files from
your computer you have here."

Wiping the last tear from the corner of his eye he squeezed out a
small smile. "You're the best, Amanda."

"I know, that's why you married me, right?"

"That, and you're magnificent in bed."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, but not now. Let's see what else
he has in these files."

They spent the next few hours going through files and making notes
on every agency employee's motives, and they were only up to the D's.

"Looks like Francine's file's next. I wonder what he had on her."
Lee eagerly opened the file.

"Oh my gosh! There's an adoption decree for her also. Different
mother, but the father is listed as David Austin Smithson!" Amanda
dropped the pad she was taking notes in.

"If these are true, then Francine is my sister!" Lee suddenly grew
pale.

"Oh my gosh!" Amanda clasped her hand over her mouth.

Lee started to type feverishly.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to find out for sure who `David Austin Smithson' is."

She stopped his typing and pulled his arms away from the
keyboard. "Now, sweetheart. I know you want to find out for sure
who this man is and if he's your father. But we have a murder to
solve."

"But--"

"Believe me, I want to know also. But don't you think we should
finish looking through the rest of the files and see who else had
motive? So far, from the files that we've looked at, it looks like
Dr. Smyth has incriminating information on everybody who works at
The Agency. I would guess that he has stuff on the rest, but
shouldn't we look and make sure there isn't something else in these
computer files that will give us a clue to who killed Dr. Smyth."

"You're right. You're always right." He gave her a kiss on her
forehead. "Alright, whose file should we look at next?"

"Oh no!" Amanda gasped as she picked up the next file.

"What? What did you find?"

"It's a picture." She looked down at the picture in her hand,
hardly able to believe what she was looking at.

"A-man-da! A picture of whom?"

"Oh no, you've got to see this one for yourself, sweetheart!" She
closed the file and passed it over to her partner with a look of
shock etched on her face.

"Oh my gosh!" Lee shook his head in apparent disbelief.

"See! I told you!"

"Is that Fred Fielder as a...a..." He could hardly believe what he
was about to say. "A woman?"

"I know! I can't believe it! He seems so...so normal."

"Yeah, well it's always the quiet ones. What I want to know is how
did the old man get all this information?" He shook the folder in
his hand as he began pacing the small room.

"Yeah, and why did Dr. Smyth have it in the first place? But more
importantly, how could Fred think that those shoes go with that
dress?" She laughed at her own joke but quickly stopped when she
caught the glare her husband was giving her. "Sorry. I couldn't
help myself."

"Yeah, well this case just keeps getting stranger and stranger by
the minute."

"I'm afraid to look at the next file. Who knows what else we're
going to learn about our friends and co-workers."

"Here, why don't you hand me the next one--you've had quite enough
of a shock on that last one."

"Yeah, thanks. Here you go."

The next two files contained information on agents Donald Briker and
Ethan Shuman. The goods the late head of the agency had on them had
definite explosive potential. Unbeknownst to the two agents they
were involved in a spousal sex swap. Smyth's file contained proof
that Agent Shuman was screwing Briker's wife at the same time Briker
was doing Shuman's wife. The files contained time and date stamped,
full color, glossy photos of the clandestine trysts. As he read the
file, the song, "Who's making love to your old lady, while you were
out making love" kept running through Lee's mind.

Lee clicked the close button on the files of Briker and Shuman.
Amanda glanced at the wall clock. While her partner opened the next
file, she picked up the phone and called her mother letting her know
that She and Lee had to work late, telling her not to hold dinner.
Dotty assured her daughter that she would make sure the boys did
their homework before they watched TV and that she would have them
make sure they were in bed no later than 9:30pm since it was a
school night.

After hanging up the phone, she returned her attention to the
computer files. Lee had just opened up the next file, Mrs.
Marston's. At first glance, the file appeared to be completely
scandal free. Since she had been the agency receptionist for over 30
years, there were a lot of details and commendations in her personal
records. They had just about scrolled to the bottom of the file when
what they saw shocked them. It seems that Mrs. Marston wasn't really
a Mrs. at all but a Mr.! Well that is what she used to be before the
sex change surgery according to the copy of the doctor's report.
Thanks to a little snip and tuck, Reginald Marston had become the
formidable Regina Marston. Both Scarecrow and Mrs. King knew they
were going to have nightmares for quite some time to come. Lee was
almost afraid to open the next file after what the agency
receptionist's had contained but if they were going to locate
Smyth's killer they had no choice but to press on. Just as the next
file opened up on screen the phone ring. With a sense of foreboding
Amanda picked up the receiver. It was the city Morgue on the line.
It seems Dr. Smyth's body was missing.

They headed to the morgue and when they arrived Lee pushed the door
open with such force Amanda cringed when it hit the wall expecting to
hear the glass shatter.

"What the hell is going on here?" He yelled barreling through the
hallway.

A man in a white lab coat exited one the rooms. "Mr. Stetson, didn't
you receive our message?"

"Yes, I did." Lee ran his hand through his hair. "Now how the hell
can you lose a body? I want to talk to everyone who had contact with
the body."

"Oh dear me, I see you didn't receive our second message."

"A second message?" Amanda asked.

"Yes, it seems one of our new attendants mixed up a couple of
bodies. When you were called Dr. Smyth's body had been placed in the
wrong drawer. I don't think in all my years as a medical examiner
I've ever had two bodies with similar names. Johnny accidentally
placed Austin Smyth's body in Austen Smythe's drawer. We didn't
realize the mix up until he went to put Mr. Smythe's body back and
found another body in its place. You have my word Austin Smyth is on
ice and not going anywhere. I personally am the only one to have
contact with his body from now on."

"Okay." Lee grabbed Amanda's hand. "Come on, since there isn't
anything wrong here, we have some more investigating to do."

An hour later they were back in front of the computer accessing more files. One investigation at a time she told herself. They'd solve the murder then they'd find out if Smyth really was Lee's father or if he was just getting one last dig on them from beyond the grave.

Amanda clicked on the next file. Lisa Jackson. She began to read
the report and couldn't believe what she saw. "Lee see if you can
find a folder with Lisa Jackson's name on it."

"Here it is."

"Are there pictures in it?"

Lee whistled. "I'll say. I sure haven't seen her looking like that
before."

"Let me see."

"Here." Lee handed her the photographs. "Who'd have thought
innocent Lisa Jackson was a dominatrix. Mistress Lisa sure doesn't
look like the mousy steno we all know."

Amanda studied the photos. Lisa clad in black Lycra and thigh high
stiletto boots holding a riding crop. In the next picture she wore a
studded dog collar, a leather bra with her nipples showing and crotch
less underwear. Another showed her wearing a silk mask holding a
black candle dripping wax on her breasts. In the last one she again
wore all black Lycra and held a whip and handcuffs.

She couldn't take her eyes off the table in the picture. There was
something on it, but she couldn't make it out. It seemed to be
familiar.

"Where's the magnifying glass?"

Lee opened a desk drawer and extracted it. "Here. What do you see?"

"I'm not sure yet. There's something on this table that I know I've
seen before."

Lee leaned over her shoulder as they studied the photo.

"Oh my gosh, that's Dr. Smyth's . . ."

" . . . monocle. So the table was in his office? Wonder what she was
doing in there?" Lee asked.

"Probably, he made her pose for the blackmail and then tossed her out.
Or, maybe he had a little party, first," Amanda hypothesized.

"It's about time to start doing interviews, now that we've been
through most of the files, wouldn't you say? At least, start
dedicating SOME time to interviews and maybe afternoons and evenings
to computer files."

"Great idea, honey. But I don't want this taking over every waking
second of our lives."

"I agree. In fact, tonight, we must have dinner…we'll take the boys
and your mother. Mexican?" Lee suggested.

"We'd all love that. I'd love a little `us' time after that."

"I think that can be arranged."

She was leaning down for a kiss when they were interrupted by a knock
at the door of the Q Bureau, where they'd taken the disk after
visiting the morgue. Settling for a kiss on the lips, rather than the
long, lingering, tongue kiss she had been anticipating, Amanda then
stood and opened the door for the person who'd requested entrance.

"Leatherneck?" Amanda was surprised to see the gadget man standing
before her.

"You're not supposed to be here. We came here because no one is
allowed in while we investigate this." Lee explained to the doohickey
meister.

"I-I know. But, the thing is, we're all getting anxious that you
haven't started the interview process yet, and, well, I'd like to make
a confession," Leatherneck told them as he took a seat in Amanda's
chair. It was just as well, since Lee was working on the computer at
his desk.

"What's this you'd like to tell us?" Lee shrugged at Amanda, deciding
that since they were about to start questioning witnesses, they might
as well start with whoever was first through the door.

"I killed Dr. Smyth. I shot him."

"You?" both Amanda and Lee said, both utterly shocked. They hadn't
read anything from his file yet, but both found it difficult to
believe he could do such a thing.

"Yes, me."

"What's your motive?" Lee probed.

"He was going to cut my funding. In fact, he was going to cut my job.
You probably haven't gotten that far in the investigation yet, but I
had had my share of conversations back and forth with the old man."

"Leatherneck, we all would've rallied to get you back, you know that."
Amanda wasn't sure if she believed him. Even if she did, she still
wanted to be his friend.

Lee pulled a legal pad and pen out of a desk drawer and handed it to
the other man. "Write me a statement. Amanda will type it up and you
can read it over and sign it tomorrow . . . first thing. I want how
it happened, where, and when, exactly. In your own words. Right now."

"Does he have to, Lee? That seems harsh."

"Amanda, he came in here wanting to confess, so let's get the whole
story. This does not mean, Leatherneck, that we will not investigate
other people with the Agency. So, if you're trying to cover for
someone, forget it." Lee pointed a stern finger to the confessor.

"I follow you. And, I'm not trying to protect anyone." Leatherneck
began his statement and Lee and Amanda put on coffee while they waited
for him to finish.

******

At noon the following day, Lee and Amanda were considering going to
lunch. Leatherneck had been in for about an hour and a half, because
Amanda didn't get to type his confession until first thing that
morning. After he waited for her to finish, he'd read it over and
signed off on it. It seemed the case was now signed, sealed, and
pretty well delivered.

That was when there came another knock on the door. The couple turned
their heads to the door in unison. Amanda rose first to answer it.

"I'm starting to dread hearing people at this door. But I suppose if
they're going to keep knocking, I'll continue to be the one to answer it."

"I agree with your thinking." Lee didn't know what else to say, but he
didn't want to be the one to allow entrance to bad news. There was no
point in telling people they shouldn't be there…they'd just take them
as the showed up.

"Hi, can we talk?" Francine's blonde head passed through the doorway
followed by the rest of her slim body.

"Of course, Francine, come in." Amanda closed the door behind their
guest. Lee stood when he saw Francine and sat again at his desk when
she took a seat on the sofa.

"So, what's troubling you, Francine?" Lee inquired.

"I just want to say, I didn't do it. I did NOT kill Austin Smyth."
Francine readily boasted.

"It's not that we don't believe you, Francine, but, can you prove it?"
Amanda prodded the other woman.

"I'm not sure I can, exactly. Well…let me explain."

Lee grinned wryly when she stopped talking. "Please, do."

"I have heard that Dr. Smyth was found clutching a note. That's
because I sent it to him."

"But we didn't find any fingerprints that would include or exclude you
as a suspect. And it won't surprise anyone to know that your
handwriting didn't match the note," Amanda told her.

"Of course not. What do you think I am, an amateur? I had one of my
snitches write it for me. Smyth had something on me that he wanted to
share. He told me in passing that we `ought to meet'. I said pick a
place. He did and I sent him the note stating when. He already knew
where. So, I have no motive to kill him. I know, well, heard that
there's a disk you two have--with information on everyone. Does THAT
at least exclude me?" Francine tried to find out.

"We're not at liberty to say anything, whether we have a disk or not."
Lee said. He didn't want her to know in the slightest if he was going
to exclude her. It was time to go with the standard statement
request. He eyed Amanda.

"Um, Francine. . .can we get you to write down your version of events. . . and witnesses, if you have any? I'll type it up and then you can
sign it and go," Amanda requested.

"Well, I didn't do it, so, yes, I'll write a statement for you,"
Francine agreed. Amanda moved to the sofa, leaving the desk for Lee's
"possible" sister to write at.

******

Having the interviewee wait while their statement was typed worked
better for Amanda. She hadn't done Leatherneck's right away because
she'd wanted to spend private time with Lee so badly before. Now, it
was the following day, and they'd had the previous night to luxuriate
in each other's arms.

"Amanda?" Lee rubbed his eyes, tired of the case and all the
possibilities, already.

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"Wouldn't you say now is about the time--"

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"—for another visitor?" Amanda would have laughed, if she weren't
ready to cry. Instead she just opened the door.

Lee stood. "Muh, uh, Misses . . . Misses Marston?"

"Please come in," Amanda automatically offered the Agency's
receptionist prime use of her desk. The older woman was used to
sitting at a desk, anyhow, so she wouldn't know two other people had
been in during the last two days, already.

"You, uh, have something to tell us?" Lee sat to await her answer.

"I did not kill Austin Smyth."

Two silent stares came back from Lee and Amanda.

"Looks like you already know my secret. Well, I don't care. Really.
I've been a woman for 30 years. Austin has known, knew, about me the
whole time. In fact, he was more likely to kill me for all of HIS
secrets that I knew. I am innocent in all of this. In fact, I'd like
to offer my services--to help you out, if you should deem me worthy.
Otherwise, I'll try to help you in ways you won't see."

"Do you know who did it?" Lee inquired.

"No, but I do have one, small confession. I saw Dr. Smyth in his
office after he had died. He had his cigarette holder in his mouth at
the time, but the cigarette had been out for a long time. After I
finished laughing, I pulled his pants down."

Amanda covered her mouth, but she wasn't sure if it was from shock, or
to keep from snickering. She couldn't meet either Lee's eyes, or Mrs.
Marston's.

Lee requested, "Please, continue."

"You mean, tell you why I did it?"

"Mmm-hmm." Lee nodded to add emphasis.

"How would you feel, him knowing that secret all of your years at the
Agency, always threatening to expose you? Well, I exposed him,
literally. Felt good, too. Let him feel what it's like, all the
world viewing his most private privates."

"I, um, I see. Misses Marston, would you please write all of this
down, chronologically?" Lee reached for his reliable, old legal pad
and handed it over to the receptionist. "Amanda will type it, and once
you go over it, you need to sign it. As with everyone, please stay in
town."

"Of course." Mrs. Marston began to write.

********

Later that evening, as they were about to go home for the day, there
was another knock at the door.

"Oh my gosh, who now?" Amanda set her purse on the desk.

"Come in." Amanda responded to the knock.

Lisa Jackson walked in her eyes cast down towards the floor looking
nothing like the photos they'd seen earlier. "I need to tell you
something."

"Let me guess," Lee said. "You killed Smyth?"

Lisa wrung her hands and looked up. "How did you know?"

"It's been one of those nights." Lee plopped down on the
couch. "Why don't you tell us what happened."

Amanda couldn't get the image of Mistress Lisa out of her head. The
photographs showing a vixen looked nothing like the steno standing
before them demurely dressed in a knee length skirt and long sleeved
blouse. Amanda touched her arm offering comfort. "You can tell us.
We won't judge." She sat down next to Lee and placed her hand in
his. She wanted to be able to stop him from interrupting the
confession.

Lisa wrung her hands and began pacing the room not looking either of
them in the eye.

"It all started about six months ago. No, let me go back even
further. A couple of years ago I was in dire straits. No job, no
money and bill collectors hounding me every waking minute.

I answered an ad in the paper. When I went to the interview it was
for a dominatrix at an underground club. Because the money was so
good, I agreed to take the job. Never knowing I'd find pleasure in
dominating men. I became very good at my `job' so good I was the
most asked for dominatrix.

Then I burned out. I couldn't take it anymore. My bills were caught
up; a nice apartment, a car and I had a savings account. I saw an ad
for a government job and applied. That's how I came to work for the
Agency."

Lisa stopped talking and pacing and stared out the window at the
darkened streets.

"What happened six months ago?" Amanda asked.

Lisa turned and looked at them both. "Dr. Smyth happened six months
ago."

"Figures," Lee said, "he's been a thorn in a lot of people."

Amanda squeezed Lee's hand and glanced at him pursing lips in a
silent shush.

"I'd been working late one night and he came into the steno pool. He
asked if I could come to his office. When we got there he closed the
doors and told me to sit down. The next thing I know he's showing me
a report about my activities as Mistress Lisa. You see I still
moonlighted at the underground club twice a month. What can I say
the money is too good to pass up. He said it would all remain a
secret if I did what he wanted me too. I asked if I had a choice, he
told me no. The report and photos would be all over the Agency and
in the newspaper by morning. I couldn't take the chance, I love
working here, and I even thought one day I could go to agent
training. So I did what he wanted."

Lisa stopped talking and began pacing again.

"Did he want you to dominate him?" Amanda queried.

She stopped in front of the door and began talking. "Yes. He said
it was a fantasy of his and he wanted me to play it out with him. I
did. We'd meet once a week. A different location all the time. I'd
bring the clothing and toys that were needed.

You know what?" Lisa began to laugh. "He never once touched me. Oh
he came to orgasm, but from what I did to him, not from sex. He
loved to be whipped, tied up, handcuffed, blindfolded, he was into
the whole S&M scenario."

"How did you kill him? From what I know about S&M the pain is the
pleasure, death isn't an option." Lee said. "Isn't there a `safe'
word used to stop?"

"Yes, usually. But Austin didn't want to use one. Nothing was
beyond his endurance. He'd contacted me a couple of nights before
the party. One of the places we'd never done bondage in was his
office. I had a package sent to him that morning containing the
outfit and toys that would be needed.

Once the party was in full swing. I meet him in his office and we
had a session. He wanted me to hit him harder and harder with the
cat o nine tails and I did."

"That would explain the odd bruising on his ass," Lee mumbled to
Amanda.

"I kept hitting and hitting, he orgasmed." She blushed. "Then he
slumped over and didn't move. It didn't look like he was breathing.
I tried to find a pulse, but I couldn't. I got scared, cleaned up
the room and pulled his pants up and left."

"Well that explains some things." Lee said standing up and putting
an arm around Lisa. "But I honestly don't think what the two of you
did resulted in his death. Why don't you write out a statement for
us and go home and go home to rest."

A half hour later they said goodbye to Lisa. "Do you think it's safe
to go home?" Amanda asked opening her desk drawer for her purse.

"Let's go."

They went to the garage and Lee was about to open the door to
the `Vette, when a voice came from the darkness.

"Who's there?" Amanda asked squinting to try to see who it was.

"It's me." The voice said as a shape of a body in a trench coat
appeared in the light.

Dr. Yohansen the coroner at the morgue stepped out of the
shadows. "I took the liberty of running a few more thorough tests
on Dr. Smyth and found some new information."

"What did you find?" Amanda stepped forward and took the file from
him.

"I found traces of (don't know the real name) commonly known as the
date rape drug, PCP, a truth serum, Viagra and an unknown substance
that I'm still running tests on."

"That's quite an array of drugs, why didn't they show up with the
first autopsy?" Lee looked at the list of drugs over Amanda's
shoulder.

"Like I said, they were in trace amounts, it took a stronger test to
find them."

"How long do those drugs stay in the body? When did he take, or was
given, those things?"

"According to my calculations, the date rape drug was taken about
18 – 24 hours before his death. The PCP was about 12- 15 hours
before his death, the truth serum about 48-36 hours before his
death, and the Viagra about 6-8 hours before his death."

"What about the last one?"

"Since I don't know what it is, I don't know its half-life to
determine that. I've sent it to three different labs around the
country to see if they can determine what it is, but I won't hear
back for a couple of days."

"Thank you, Doctor. Did you find anything else?"

"Actually yes I did." He looked down at his feet.

"Well, what is it?" Lee stopped his pacing and stared at the
nervous doctor. Well, upon examining his genitalia, I felt a
vibration. I looked closer and found some scars. He has an implant
just under the skin of his testicles that will vibrate or give him
small shocks. I've never seen anything like it."

She and Lee had fun playing with the vibrator and remote control
butterfly, but having one implanted? That was just sick.

"There's more."

They both looked at him, shocked. What else could there be?

"I found some tissue and hair fibers in various places on his body
that are not his. There's a list on the second page of the
report." He motioned to the file Amanda held.

"There are samples from at least six different people here!" Amanda
exclaimed as she read the list.

Sample one, collected from victim's throat. Hair, black, coarse
2.47 inches long.

Sample two, collected from victim's mouth. Blood, type O negative.

Sample three, collected from under victim's fingernails. Skin,
African American, most likely male.

Sample four, collected from victim's anus. Semen, deposited within
30 minutes of his death, possibly after death.

Sample five, collected from victim's penis. Blood and female
ejaculate, also within 30 minutes of his death.

Sample six, collected from victim's toes. Saliva, female.


The looked up when they finished reading. What had that man been
doing in his last hours? It's too bad Dr. Smyth never allowed any
Agency security camera's in his office. If indeed the acts that
deposited those samples on his body happened in his office.

"I'm mapping all the samples for their DNA that can be used to cross-
reference with any suspects. There is one more matter."

"Now what?"

"The cause of death was originally thought to be from the gunshot
wound. With this new evidence and further study, there is a
possibility that the gunshot wound was just after his death. It is,
as of yet, inconclusive as to whether the gun shot, the drugs, taken
orally and with a needle into the base of his neck, the
strangulation marks, or possibly even none of those are the reason
of his death."

"You've got to be kidding?"

"Mr. Stetson, I never kid about my job." With that he turned around
and left.

"Now what, Stetson?"

"Do we dare try to go home?" Lee again reached to open the
door. "Hey, what's this?" He pulled an envelope from under the
windshield wiper.

"Lee, do you think it's safe to open?"

"Hell, I don't know what to think anymore." He ripped open the
envelope and pulled out a sheet of Agency stationary.

*Scarecrow & Sparrow,

I know that you've been through Smyth's secret files on his
computer, but have you checked for his secret files at his home? He
was a fanatic about keeping tabs on everything and everybody.

M*

They looked at each other in puzzlement. "M?" The snapped their
heads up and called out together. "Marston!"

"He . . . she said that she'd try to help us in ways we won't see.
I guess we should go to Smyth's house." Amanda sat in the passenger
seat and pulled her door shut.

"Amanda, it's almost ten right now? Don't you think we need some
rest?"

"The last thing I want to do is sleep right now. I really don't
want to have any dreams about how all those tissue samples got onto
those places on Dr. Smyth's body."

Lee shivered and revved up the ‘Vette. "When you put it that way. I
guess we're off to search the old bastards house."

********

Meet me at our spot 1am.
The evidence was found.
Must talk.

The killer paced back and forth in front of Eleanor Roosevelt.
Plans had been made months in advance of Smyth's little party,
but with Scarecrow and Sparrow doing the investigating who knew if all
their false evidence and planning was going to keep them from
solving the case.

"Finally!" The killer said in exasperation. "I thought you were never going to get here."

"Relax." The woman was dressed in head to toe black and she looked irritated. "Everything is going to be fine. No one wants you to
take the fall for this. Everyone wanted that man dead. Everyone."

"I know, but I was the one who actually planned all this. I am
the one whose neck is going to be in a noose if the plot is discovered." The killer watched as she took several bags out of
her purse pockets.

"With all the DNA from these items, they will never figure out
what really happened that night."

The bags were each labeled and sealed. There was hair, needles full
of body fluids, drug casings, each adding more unnecessary
information to the case. The killer saw the assortment of false
evidence and relaxed a bit.

"Now, just relax. We have everything under control, okay? No one is going to blame you for Smyth's death. I can guarantee it." She smiled tucked the bags back into different sections of her purse. "I will just dispose of these and everything will be fine."

"Alright."

She shot the killer a look. "Don't send me anymore messages. It's dangerous. Just talk to me at work, like you normally would. If we
need privacy we can find somewhere to speak in the Agency."

The killer nodded and watched her disappear into the shadows. It
had been a long week. It was only going to get worse.

********

Amanda was tired. Ever since they had returned to the States they
had been working non-stop. She yawned as they pulled into Dr.
Smyth's long driveway.

"Lee, there aren't any guards left here anymore. He's only been dead a week. Isn't that a bit odd?"

"Not really. The cops will pretty much find everything they need
the first few days after a murder. Since this is an internal
investigation, they were probably only here the first day before the
Agency took over."

"So who did the first sweep of the house?"

Lee opened the door and held it for her to precede him. "That's a
good question. Hopefully, it was Herbert Long. He is the only
other person not in the DC area when Smyth was killed. Otherwise
the scene is contaminated. We'll find out from Billy in the
morning. I'm sure that no one else at the Agency would have been
assigned."

Amanda nodded and asked, "Do you want upstairs or down?

"Let's just stick together. You may catch something I miss." Lee
smiled and they began searching.

Two hours later Amanda watched her husband expertly pick the lock on
Dr. Smyth's safe. Once she had suggested looking for it, it had
only taken them moments to find, hidden behind a large picture of Dr.
Smyth and former President Jimmy Carter.

"I think I've got it." Lee said as he moved back and twisted the small handle.

"Someday I am going to be able to do that." Amanda said wistfully.

"Forget it, you are too straight and narrow. Leave it to your
nefarious husband." He shot her a grin and opened the inner door
to the safe. “Well look at what we have here!"

"Oh my gosh! Now what?"

Lee pulled out of stack of folders. When he spread them out on the
huge oak the saw four with names on them. Theirs again, plus one
each for Billy and Francine. "I'm not sure I want to open any of
them."

"We have to." Amanda placed her hand on his arm. "There might be a
clue hidden inside."

Lee ran his hand through his hair. "Okay, which one do you want to
open first?"

"How bout mine." She flipped it open and picked up the lone piece of
paper it contained. "I don't believe it! The man was insane!"

"Are you going to show it to me?"

Amanda handed him the paper. It was a birth certificate for Phillip
listing Jim Sernan as his father. She began to pace the room. "What
was he thinking? Why would he say something like that? Joe is
Phillip's father. When I met Jim it was after he was born. Besides
it was only a casual flirtation. I was going through postpartum
depression. Joe understood. Nothing happened."

Lee put his hand around her waist to stop her movement. "I know
sweetheart. I don't understand it myself. Unless he was going to
try to blackmail you and realized at the last minute the dates
wouldn't match up."

"Okay, I'm calm now. Let's look at this rationally. We know some of
the information we've found is accurate. We've had confirmation.
But what if some of the information is also false. What if he made
up allegations for his own sadistic pleasure."

"You're right let's see what else we have here."

The opened Billy's file first. Amanda knew Lee was holding off on
opening his own and Francine's afraid there might be a chance he find
more confirmation of his relationship with Smyth. Billy's contained
several sheets of paper showing gambling debts in Las Vegas during
the last six months. They both knew Billy had been in DC during the
entire time.

"That's two allegations proven false." Amanda said as she opened one
of the unlabeled folders. Inside were blank adoption certificates. "Look."

A familiar odor permeated the room. It almost smelled like on of Dr.
Smyth's cigarettes, but that wasn't possible. Maybe the rug and
furniture retained the smoke. If it were her house she'd fumigate as
soon as possible.

Lee looked at the blanks and opened his and Francine's files. The
only things inside were copies of their birth certificates and
samples of adoption papers with variations of Smyth's name typed in
the father's line. Smyth wasn't their father and neither of them had
been adopted.

"That son of a bitch--"

"Now, now kiddies. I wasn't that bad."

The papers they were holding dropped to the desk. Their mouths
opened in shock. Standing before them was Dr. Smyth, alive and
smoking his trademark cigarette. Neither of them could speak for
several minutes.

"Come, come, cat got your tongues?"

Amanda managed to find her voice first. "You're dead. We saw your
body."

"Contrary to what you've seen. Rumors of my death have been greatly
exaggerated."

"Okay, then who's body did we see in the morgue?" Lee asked.

Smyth walked over to the chair behind his desk and sat down. "The
newly departed was my identical twin, Cedric."

"What!" They both exclaimed at the same time.

"Sit down kiddies, I need to tell you a little story."

They did as instructed and Smyth began.

I know you don't believe me right now but I did have an identical
twin brother. It was his body you saw in the morgue." He ground out
his cigarette and lit another.

"Thirty years ago I thought Cedric had been killed in China. Even
though there was no body, all the evidence pointed to him being
dead. Until six months ago. I'd just returned home from a very
enjoyable embassy party and was getting ready to sleep when Cedric
appeared in the doorway to my bedroom. He had a gun and told me to
follow him. He took me downstairs into the basement and locked me in
a room. Over the next several days he took great delight in telling
me his plans."

"You're saying for the last six months, it's been Cedric running the
Agency?" Lee got up and began to pace the room.

"Sit down, Scarecrow and yes he has."

Lee returned to his seat. "What about the files? Those are yours, I
know they are."

"Correct, Scarecrow. But when Cedric couldn't find what he wanted in
everyone's file he manufactured evidence."

"Why would he do that?" Amanda asked.

"Why blackmail, Sparrow. Pure and simple he planned on blackmailing
everyone and selling what information he could to foreign
governments. He'd come home every night and tell me what he'd
concocted."

"Why didn't you try to escape?"

"I'm old, Stetson and my skills aren't as honed as yours anymore. I
did my best to get information out. Cedric took great pleasure in
setting up a monitoring system so I could see what went on in the
house and at the Agency."

"Then you saw his murder." Lee said standing up in front of the desk
and pounded on it with his fist.

"Nope, that night he had the camera turned off. But he did leave the
sound on."

Amanda sat in the chair assimilating all the data Smyth provided. It
made sense in a weird way. Sometimes in the last six months, he
hadn't seemed--normal--well as normal as he usually was. He hadn't
spouted as many nursery rhymes and seemed to use the same ones over
and over again. Now she knew it was because it had been Cedric
impersonating him.

"Then you heard who murdered him. Why haven't you come forward?"
Lee raised his hands in the air.

"Because I didn't hear who the killer was. I want the three of us to
work as a team. Whoever thinks they killed me would try to kill me
again. We have to find out who he or she is first, before I can let
everyone know I'm alive."

Could this case become any more bizarre? The three of them a team.
Amanda wondered if it'd work or not.

"If we're going to be a team. Tell us what you heard." Lee sat back
down in the chair.

Smyth took a drag of his newly lit cigarette. "The first thing I
heard was . . ."

Smyth began coughing. He glared at his cigarette and then smashed it
into the ashtray. "Dang cigarettes will be the death of me—if my
brother's killer doesn't get to me first."

"You were saying?" Amanda asked.

"Oh, yes. The first thing I heard was someone turning on the radio.
It was as if the killer knew there was a monitoring system. The radio
drowned everything out."

"So, you didn't hear anything?" Lee asked.

"Are you deaf, Son? I didn't hear anything."

"Then, we've hit another dead end." Lee slammed his hand on the desk.

"You have?" A evil grin lit up Smyth's face for a moment. "Then, my
brother's killer will get away. This is most terrible. Most
terrible."

"I don't think so," a familiar voice said from the doorway.

The all glanced up and saw a silhouetted figure standing in the
doorway. The figure stepped forward, into the light, and the realized
it was:

"Dr Smyth?" Lee and Amanda said simultaneously.

"What the hell is going on here?" Lee asked.

"My name is Houston. Houston Smyth. I'm Austin and Cedric's cousin.
That isn't Austin next to you, it's Cedric. Cedric escaped from the
J. L. Ryan Asylum for the mentally confused about six months back.
Austin didn't have the heart to send him back and has been keeping
him contained here at his house. The monitoring system was designed
to help keep track of him."

"You're lying!" Cedric/Austin yelled. "I'm Austin Smyth."

"You are not!" Houston yelled back.

"I am, too. I can be whoever I want to be. You're not the boss of
me."

"No, but this is." Houston pulled out a gun.

"Unfair! You're cheating!" Cedric/Austin said and lunged for him.

Lee instinctively grabbed Amanda and pulled her behind the couch.
They heard a shot. Lee peeked from behind the couch and saw a figure
running away. He gave chase, but the figure had too much of a head
start. He made his way back to Amanda. She was kneeling beside the
body of . . .

"Damn. Is this Cedric, Austin or Houston?" Lee asked.

"I don't know. Didn't you notice that both men were wearing similar
outfits? I have no idea who this is."

"Neither do I. Great! Now there's only one thing to do . . .

********

At the Smyth brothers' funeral, there was not a dry eye in the
house. Everyone was too busy laughing at what everyone else is
wearing. It seems the good doctor left a clause in his funeral
arrangements that decreed all funeral attendees, were to dress up as
a fictional character or celebrity. The man had turned his own
funeral into a costume party. Lee had griped that if they had to
wear costumes the deceased should have to wear one too, citing that
the back end of a horse would fit Smyth perfectly.

A memo had been distributed, detailing the strange attire
stipulation the dearly departed had made. Most of the agency
employees had reacted like Scarecrow refusing to `dress up' to attend
the funeral of a man they despised, but had quickly changed their
tune when the memo Smyth's lawyer had dropped off, informed them
that anyone not attending would suffer the consequences of having
their secret file reveled. The missive went on to say that he had
left several encrypted copies of the secret files around town and if
the emissary he'd instructed to attend his funeral didn't completely
check off the list of names Smyth had provided him previously, the
person had instructions to release the destructive information.
Everyone in the business of intelligence knows how hard it is to
advance once you become an embarrassment to the entity you work for.

On the day of the funeral, the boat was just about ready to leave
the dock to carry the mourners and the deceased to his final resting
place. Suddenly the "HONK" of a horn pierced the air. Everyone
turned toward the sound. In the distance they could see a tour bus
speeding towards the docks. Loud speakers mounted on the top of the
bus, played a beautiful rendition of Elvis Pressley singing Amazing
Grace. When the bus stopped 15 Elvis Impersonators rushed toward
the waiting boat. They had turned out to say a final goodbye to Dr.
Smyth, a long time member of the group.

As the bodies were committed to the sea, unfortunately for his twin
Cedric who had had the misfortune to be killed when he struggled
with their Cousin Houston over a gun, it had been decided to have a
double burial at sea, the spokesman for the Elvis impersonators,
looked at the serene waters and with a tear rolling down his heavily
jowl face, lamented, "Elvis has left the building."

It was a little past 11am, when the boat returned to dock. For the
most part, the funeral had been carried out with an air of dignity
and respect. The only real `drama' that had marred the occasion was
when the decedent's ex-wife had told the gentleman officiating the
service to "Hurry up and dump the sucker."

Billy had reserved Milligan's tavern for a private get together
after the funeral, so most of the funeral attendees headed over
there after they disembarked. Dr. Smyth's cousin Houston had
declined the invitation, saying he needed time by himself to come to
grips with his beloved cousin's death. Amanda had offered to bring
him a plate of food from the repast to his hotel room later that
evening but he'd informed her he had to fly out that evening, he'd
been away from his own affairs for long enough he'd said, plus he
felt like it would be easier to accept Austin's death if he wasn't
in the city he had lived in.

At Milligan's the atmosphere was lively and some of the agents even
managed to dredge up a good memory or two of the late Agency
Director. Most of the agents, had no fond memories of a man who had
taken great joy in `sticking it' to his subordinates. The most
glaring evidence of the general dislike felt for Smyth was the
song, `Ding, Dong the Witch is Dead' playing in the background
repeatedly during the gathering.


While the agents were celebrating the demise of their former
leader, across town a man that bore a remarkable resemblance to the
deceased, was doing a bit of celebrating, Also.

The man chuckled to himself and lit a cigarette. He thought about
once again how much he regretted having to give up his custom made
black cigarette holder but that would make people suspicious that he
was still alive. His plan had been almost perfect. It would have
been flawless if his cousin hadn't shown up when Cedric went missing
from the facility. Oh well, it was Houston's misfortune that he
chose to visit, that lunatic Cedric three weeks earlier than usual
this year. The old boy had paid a high price for being the early
bird. It had cost him his life.

"It's a shame, I'm really going to miss the you Hou, my boy," Smyth
said as he looked up towards the sky. He felt that was most
certainly the direction his goody two shoes cousin had gone in. The
diabolical former head of the agency snuffed out his cigarette on
the ground as he exited the rental car at the airport drop-off.
After a quick stop at the rental agency return desk, he headed
toward the far end of the airport where his cousin's private plane
was waiting to carry him to an uncharted island. Once he was seated,
he had the pilot request permission to take off immediately. Less
than ten minutes after he boarded the Lear jet, he was airborne.
Each passing minute took him further and further away from D. C.

Smyth sat back in his seat, with a bourbon and branch in his hand.
Taking a sip, he chuckled once again how easy it had been to fool a
whole agency of secret agents. Scarecrow and Mrs. King think they
are so smart, but I have created the perfect diversion to keep them
going around in circles, for months. By the time anyone stumbles
across the missing money, not only will I be long gone but since I
am legally deceased, there is no way to charge me with the
crime, `dead men don't go to jail'.

Two weeks later, after the funeral, key participants in the
investigation of `Dr. Smyth's death' sat around the conference room
table in the Agency boardroom.

"We'll be ready to move as soon as my informants get here--"

Knock . . . knock . . . knock.

"And there they are now." Lee opened the door, and he ushered in
Mrs. Marston, an older gray-haired woman, and a young
brunette. "Ladies, please have a seat."

The women took the empty seats and sat quietly, scanning the others
in the room. Lee stood at the head of table. Billy sat to his
right, Amanda to his left, and Francine next to her.

Lee took his own seat and began telling what had been going on the
last two weeks.

"The day after the funeral, Amanda and I met," he pointed to the
brunette, "Dallas, a black-covert operative working directly under
the orders of the President. I'll let you tell your story, Dallas."

"Thanks, Lee. Please, no questions until I'm done." Dallas stood
and faced the group. She took a long breath and began. "It all
started ten months ago. It came to the attention of the President
that funds were being diverted from the Agency into offshore
accounts. I was sent in undercover to investigate and placed as
administrative assistant to Dr. Smyth. It didn't take me long to
figure out `he' was the one funneling monies out of the country.

As you know, Smyth had secret files on everyone. I let him find out
certain falsehoods about me, so he would think I would aid his
nefarious activities. Six months ago, I helped break Cedric Smyth
out of the J. L. Ryan Asylum. Austin had told me Cedric was
mistreated there and he would take care of him himself. He built a
special room in the basement for him, and then, not until after the
fact, I found out they were switching places. Pretending to be the
other. At times, I couldn't tell which brother was which. They were
convincing, but Cedric would let something slip and I'd know
instantly he was the `unstable' brother.

About three months ago, I helped Austin plan his own murder. But
there wasn't supposed to be a body, just evidence a crime had been
committed and that Austin was dead. He told me he had it all worked
out and no one would ever look for him again. I didn't know at the
time that he planned to kill his own brother. He ordered me to break
into the morgue and steal various samples. I didn't know until after
the fact that he used them on Cedric's body.

I found out he drugged Cedric and brought him to his office, setting
up the crime scene. When the lights went out, he shot him with his
own gun. Then, a few days after the murder, he met me--dressed in
disguise--and acted like I was the brains of the operation. I knew
then that he'd gone over the edge, not just being greedy anymore. Or
he wanted me to think he had. I know now that was part of his
scheme."

"That's right," Lee stated. "Ballistics showed the bullet came from
Dr. Smyth's gun. The bullet Leatherneck shot was found in the wall.
Sorry for interrupting."

"That's okay. Once you and Amanda started investigating, his plot
started to fall apart, and he had to reveal he was alive to you to
keep Houston off his trail. That night, he pretended to be Cedric
during the confrontation to confuse everyone even more. Really, he
was Austin, and he used the diversion to kill the only other person
who could identify him as Austin Smyth. At least, he thought he did.

He forgot about two other people; one he didn't even know existed.
Me and Nanny Barnes." She gestured to the older woman sitting at the
table.

"You! How can you identify him?" Francine brushed her hair out of
her eyes.

Dallas turned to the blonde agent. "Because Houston Smyth was my
father. My legal name is Dallas Smyth. Austin never knew of my
existence; my parents separated when I was a baby, and my father
chose to keep me away from his `crazy' family. Not telling them
about me."

Billy put his hands on the table. "Okay, now I'm confused. What are
you trying to say?"

"Houston Smyth was my father. Austin Smyth is still very much
alive. It was my father who was killed that night at the house, and
my uncle began impersonating him."

"How can it be proven?" Francine looked as confused as Billy. "All
three looked alike. I know we could get fingerprints, but he was
probably smart enough to have his altered."

"That's where Nanny Barnes comes in."

"Yes," the older woman began. "I can prove beyond a shadow of a
doubt that Austin Smyth is still alive. All I need to do is see the
man, feel behind his left ear, and I'll know."

"Let me interject something," Lee said. "After the `funeral,' the
bodies were taken back to the Agency and put in deep freeze. I knew
something wasn't right but couldn't put my finger on it. That is
until Mrs. Marston came to me and told me about her sister, who was
the Smyth nanny years ago."

"Yes, when Austin was a toddler, he had an accident. He had to have
stitches behind his ear, and, to this day, there is a scar there on
him and him alone."

"But what if he had it surgically fixed?" Billy stood and began to
pace the room.

"No, he never remembered the incident, and I was his nanny until he
turned fifteen. The scar was still there."

"Okay, let me get this straight. Cedric Smyth was killed by his own
brother in his office, and Houston Smyth, his cousin, was killed by
Austin at his house."

"Yes." Lee stood and slapped him on the back.

"Then where is Austin?" Billy sat back down.

"I can answer that," Dallas replied. "I knew something wasn't right
the day of the funeral. When I met my father, I didn't show any
emotion and realized he didn't know who I really was. He looked me
directly in the eyes, not a hint of knowledge. I immediately left
the service and had a homing device placed on my father's private
plane.

Austin Smyth is now residing on a privately owned island in the
Caribbean."

"And our plane is waiting to take us there. Shall we go confront our
despicable ex-leader?" Lee stood and opened the door.

********

The group walked along the beach. They'd been told `Houston' was
lounging at the water's edge. When they walked up behind him, they
saw the telltale white hair and a puff of smoke from a cigarette.

"Dr. Smyth, I presume." Billy said, standing before him.

"No, I'm Houston. You're mistaken."

Nanny Barnes grabbed his left ear. "Not Houston, Austin. I can feel
the scar."

Smyth pushed her hand away. "Who the hell are you?"

"Don't you recognize me either?" Dallas stood before him.

"I saw you at my cousin's funeral. Now leave me in peace. All of
you." He stood and began to walk away.

Dallas laughed. "Well, then this is the first time you've ever
decided not to acknowledge your own daughter."

Smyth stopped in the sand. "My what! My dear girl, you must be
delusional."

"I don't think so. A year ago, we had a family reunion. We may not
have had much contact over the years, but you, me, and Mom were
present."

"I . . . I think I've been too long in the sun." He placed his hand
on his forehead.

"Yes, you have." Lee stood on one side of him, Amanda on the
other. "But the jig is up. We know everything--the money, the
murders, and the impersonation. You're going to be spending a long
time in a very cold prison cell."

Smyth sighed. "Well, it was fun while it lasted. I knew I should've
arranged to have it done while the two of you were in the country,
instead of away on assignment. I might have been able to throw
suspicion onto both of you. Our hatred for each other is legendary,
Scarecrow. But I thought, with all the red herrings I threw at you,
you wouldn't figure out the truth."

"Why?" Amanda asked. "Couldn't you just have retired, if you wanted
out?"

"My dear Sparrow, I needed lots of money for the way I wanted to
live, and this was the only way of achieving my goal. Could I at
least change into some proper clothes before we leave?"

Lee nodded. "You'll have an audience during the changing."

Ten minutes later, they stood in the living room of the house Smyth
had been living in. Billy and Lee escorted him from the bedroom.

Smyth began to cough. "Would you please get me a drink from that
water bottle?" He pointed to the bar.

Francine poured a glass and handed it to him.

Closing his eyes, he drank the water. Within seconds, the glass
dropped from his hand and shattered on the hardwood floor. His eyes
rolled back in his head, and they saw the whites, as he collapsed
into a heap.

Immediately, Amanda knelt down and felt for a pulse. "I can't find
it. Should we do CPR?"

Lee stared down at the dead body of Austin Smyth. "He's gone."

"How?" she asked, standing up next to her husband.

"Cyanide, most likely. We'll bring the body back with us for an
autopsy."

Six months later

A party was being held in the Bullpen, as everyone celebrated the
promotions. Billy Melrose had been assigned the duties of Dr.
Smyth. Lee and Amanda were now co-supervisors, taking Billy's
place. Francine had been promoted to a new position working with
Leatherneck. The new section would be called "The Vogue
Department," where fashion, disguises, and gadgets would be tested
and distributed to Agency personnel. And Dallas Smyth had
transferred to the Agency and now headed the Q-Bureau.

All copies of the `secret' files had been destroyed; no one had to
worry about their private lives being divulged. Mrs. Marston, Lisa
Jackson, Fred Fielder, and anyone else who'd admitted to the validity
of the files were told the information would not go any further and
would never see the light of day.

Everything was back to normal at the Agency, or at least as normal as
a spy organization could ever be.

The End
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