C019D9C090E03@comcast.net> 956ceebc   
   Title - Decoding the Enigma   
   Authors - Amy Jonas and MagsRose   
   E-mail - adjonas2000@yahoo.com or magsrose@comcast.net   
   Rating - FRT-13 (PG - 13)   
   Category - AU/Gen/Het   
   Archive - Just let us know.   
   Feedback - Yes, please. Any kind is always welcome. We just like to know   
   someone is reading this stuff.   
   Disclaimer - Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here in   
   are the property of Chris Carter, et. al. No infringements of these copyrights   
   are intended, and are used here without permission. All original characters   
   are the sole property    
   of Mags or Amy and may not be used without the author's permission.   
   Summary - In 1940, Private Investigator, Melvin Frohike thought he was working   
   on a simple missing person case but he soon found himself embroiled in   
   something far more sinister.   
   Authors' notes - After seeing the Maltese Falcon, Amy presented Mags with an   
   idea for The X-Files characters in an Alternate Universe.  Intrigued by the   
   possibilities, Mags suggested a co-authoring effort.  The result is the story   
   you see here.  Thanks    
   to Erynn and Alison for betaing this for us.   
      
      
      
      
      
   Chapter 9   
      
      
   An optimistic man, Jimmy Bond believed the best in people and any given   
   situation.  But as he strode into the D.C. Gazette, he had to admit that the   
   week had seriously taxed that positive outlook.   
      
   He loved his job at the Gazette but lately there was a sense of trepidation   
   whenever he went to work, the root of it all being Jeffery Spender’s apparent   
   vendetta against him. He couldn’t figure it out, especially when Spender   
   always viewed the    
   photographers as beneath his notice. Then there were his lost pictures.  No,   
   he corrected himself, they were stolen. Why were photographs of a scientist   
   and his assistant so important?  He thought of his encounter with Yves Harlow   
   a couple nights earlier…   
   God, he had spent a restless night thinking about her.   
      
   He sighed in frustration, not only because he could still remember her touch   
   or the way she smelled but her reaction when he blurted out his theory. She   
   had given him a cryptic warning then fled the lab, vanishing into thin air. It   
   had left him confused    
   and more determined than ever to find her but he had no idea how to do that or   
   where to start. If only he could talk things over with Carla, but she had been   
   out of the office chasing down leads to her own story.   
      
   Then he had a stroke of luck when that private investigator had shown up at   
   the paper asking for Jeffery Spender.  There was something about the man that   
   made Jimmy eavesdrop on the conversation.  When he mentioned Yves Harlow’s   
   name, Jimmy thought his    
   problem had been solved. He quickly arranged a meeting with the man. But   
   Frohike never showed up at the diner.   
      
   And to top it all off, after trudging home from the diner he discovered he had   
   forgotten his apartment keys at work. It was the third time that month.  He   
   had to go back to the office to get them. He thought he had solved the problem   
   by stashing them in    
   his camera bag. It made perfect sense since he never went anywhere without his   
   camera.   
      
   If only he could say the same about the bag. It was sitting on the worktable   
   in the photography lab.   
      
   A short elevator trip to the third floor and he was outside the lab. The   
   lights were on and Dylan, holding a magnifying glass was sitting at a   
   workstation peering critically at several photographs spread out before him.   
      
   “Hey,” Jimmy greeted his friend, “What are you doing here so late?”   
      
   Not bothering to look up from his task, he said good-naturedly, “Contrary to   
   what some people think, the news doesn’t stop at 6 p.m.”  He discarded a   
   picture, picked up another.  “What about you?  Thought you had a hot date or   
   something.”   
      
   Jimmy grabbed his bag and slung it over one shoulder. “Or something,” he   
   replied vaguely.   
      
   “By the way,” Dylan said, “I saw Carla Mason in the bullpen earlier. I know   
   you wanted to talk to her.” He glanced up when there was no answer. He was   
   alone.   
      
   Forgetting his apartment keys was the best thing to happen to him, Jimmy   
   decided as he jogged into the bullpen minutes later. Carla was sitting at her   
   desk, he noted, tapping her ever-present pencil.   
      
   “Carla!” He paused to get his excitement under control. He wanted her to take   
   him seriously but if he went off spinning an incoherent tale, she might brush   
   off his concerns.   
      
   Carla looked up. “Good evening, Jimmy.”   
      
   “I wanted to tell you what I learned about Yves Harlow and Professor Langly.”   
   It was then he saw her directory and personal address book open on her desk,   
   her notebook half filled with notes. He hadn’t even considered she might be   
   working on her own    
   story. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, embarrassed, “I’m interrupting.”   
      
   “It’s ok, I can use a break.” She closed her notebook, giving him her full   
   attention. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me everything.”   
      
   He dragged a nearby chair to her desk, sat down and proceeded to bring her up   
   to date. He told her about the missing photos of Langly and Yves, Langly’s   
   empty lab, finding Yves in the photography lab late at night and her reaction   
   to the missing pictures.   
    He told her about the private investigator who showed up at the paper and   
   their subsequent scheduled meeting.   
      
   "What's his name… the private investigator?" Carla interrupted his tale to ask.   
      
   “Melvin Frohike."   
      
   "I know the name," said Carla. "Go on," she encouraged Jimmy.   
      
   "He never showed up.” Jimmy’s voice filled with frustration. “I called his   
   office a couple of times but no one answered.” His gaze drifted to the   
   darkened publisher's office. He slumped in his chair, his expression troubled.   
   “I don’t know what to do next,   
    Carla. And if Jeffery Spender discovers I’m still looking into it, he’s gonna   
   get the boss to fire me for sure.”   
      
   Carla’s pencil tapped once. Twice. “If you’re that frustrated, then forget   
   about it.”   
      
   Jimmy’s gaze snapped toward her. Was she advising him to give up? He sat up,   
   squaring his shoulders. “I can’t,” he said fiercely. His voice carried in the   
   near empty bullpen, startling him. He glanced around and, although the other   
   reporters burning the    
   midnight oil never gave him notice, he lowered his voice. “I can’t,” he   
   repeated.   
      
   “Why?”   
      
   Why? He stared at Carla as she waited for his answer. All the reasons muddled   
   about his brain. There were so many but he said the simplest one, the one that   
   explained it all. “I need to know the truth,” he said finally.   
      
   “Good.” The smile curving her lips confused him. “I did some digging into this   
   Professor Langly…"   
      
   The ringing of the phone interrupted her.   
      
   Jimmy swore silently as she scooped up the receiver. Her face darkening, her   
   eyes flicked to Jimmy as she listened to the speaker.  Barely a minute later,   
   she hung up.   
      
   His heart sank, heavy with disappointment. She was going to tell him she had   
   to leave, that they would have to continue their talk later. These thoughts in   
   mind, he was quite surprised when she said, "Got your camera?" He held it up.   
   "Good, let's go."   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)