"My guy said there were so many that a few wouldn't make any difference." "Holy Christ!" Scott said aloud as he sat back in thought. "What is it? Scott? Does this mean something?" "Can I have these, Ben? Do you need them?" "Nah! There's no blood on 'em? Not my kinda story. I just remembered that secret papers and computers are your thing, so they're yours." Ben stood up. "Just remember, next time you hear about a serial killer, it's mine." "Deal. And, hey, thanks a lot. Drinks on me." Scott caught Ben before he left. "Ben, one more thing." "Yeah?" Ben stopped. "Can you get me into that van. Just to look around? Not to touch, just to look?" Scott would have given himself a vasectomy with a weed eater to have a look. This was his first solid lead on the source of the mysterious and valuable documents that he had stymied him for so long. He had been unable to publish anything significant due to lack of confirming evidence. Any lead was good lead, he thought. "It may cost another favor, but sure what the fuck. I'll set it up. Call you." Ben waved as he walked off leaving Scott to ponder the latest developments. * * * * * The interior of the dark blue Ford Econoline van was not in bad shape since the equipment was bolted into place. The exterior though was thoroughly trashed, with too many blood stains for Scott to stomach. It was a bad wreak, even for the Police Im- pound. While Ben kept his cooperative keeper of the peace occupied, he signaled to Scott that he would only have a minute, so please, make it quick. Scott entered the van with all his senses peaked. He wanted to take mental pictures and get as much detail as he could. Both sides of the van contained steel shelving, with an array of equipment bolted firmly in place. It was an odd assortment of electronics, noticed Scott. There were 2 IBM personal computers with large WYSIWYG monitors. What You See Is What You Get moni- tors were generally used for intensive word processing or desktop publishing. In a van? Odd. A digital oscilloscope and waveform monitor were stacked over one of the computers. Test equipment and no hand tools? No answer. Over the other computer sat a small black and white television and a larger color television monitor. Two cellular phones were mounted behind the drivers seat. Strange combination. Then he noticed what appeared to be a miniature satellite dish, only 8 or so inches across. He recognized it as a parabolic microphone. Aha! That's it. Some sort of spy type surveillance vehicle. Tracking drug dealers and assorted low lifes. But, a privately registered vehicle, no sign of any official affiliations to known enforcement agencies? Scott felt his minute was gone in a only few seconds. "Well, you find what you're looking for?" Ben asked Scott after they had left the police garage grounds overlooking the Hudson River.