Getting To Know You

Laughlin and I found a table and kept the conversation light at first. I asked his opinion of the lectures so far, and what he thought of the lecturers in general. He reported that there wasn't much exciting going on with the lectures, admitting that most of the stuff was a little out of his normal area of study. Which did make me wonder why he was here. Of course, if he was just here to meet Stroeker, he could be making up his entire story, just like I was. Since none of the topics at the Congress were in his supposed area of study, he wouldn't look suspicious if he didn't know much about them. On the other hand, if he came to these things regularly, that theory seemed more unlikely. I framed my next question with that in mind. "Is this the first Congress that you've attended?"

"Yes it is. It isn't exactly a normal lecture series, but nonetheless there is always the possibility of something interesting happening."

"That's what I figured when I read about it. So far, though, this dinner is the most interesting thing that's happened. I'm curious to see tomorrow morning's lecture, though. From what you've said, it sounds like Bromowitz is quite the character." Since Bromowitz was the only person he'd mentioned specifically, I was rather curious as to what he had to say about the man.

"I keep wanting to ask him if he has heard anything from his dog. The man has crippled social skills and is definitely tormented by some kind of an inner demon. Should make for a great lecture."

"An interesting one, at least. He appears to have made quite an impression on you. Had you met him before this conference?"

"The first time was when our luggage got mixed up at the airport. He was pretty paranoid about someone getting into his bag. When I traded with him he checked it over very carefully. Really quite amusing. Like he would have anything worth stealing."

Interesting. Maybe Bromowitz was Stroeker's contact. If he had a large amount of cash in his suitcase, or something illegal, it stands to reason that he would be paranoid about losing it. Or Laughlin could be trying to throw me off track. Or there could be a completely mundane explanation. "Are you sure he wasn't simply concerned about losing his belongings?" I asked. "If he's giving a presentation, he probably had all of his materials in there."

"He struck me as being a little more on the side of paranoid, but then again he might have cause. We'll find out tomorrow if he has anything that earth-shattering."

"This is true. How did your luggage get mixed up with his, anyway? Did the airline screw up? Or are your suitcases that much alike?"

"Apparently we have the exact same type of luggage. I found that a little surprising, since I don't exactly use Samsonite."

He muttered something I couldn't quite catch after that, something about a scholar having the same luggage as a billionaire. He sounded a bit annoyed. I wondered if I had possibly heard correctly. A billionaire? That was an unexpected angle, and I decided to run with it. "Hmm, no doubt he'd utter a similar complaint," I observed. "It is interesting, though. I had no idea that this was such a lucrative field." I knew damn well it wasn't, in fact.

"Oh, it isn't. I was born with my money. The child heir to the Laughlin fortune and all of that."

The Laughlin fortune? Now I knew why his name sounded so familiar! It was all coming back to me now. Kyle Laughlin's parents had been extremely wealthy, and when they mysteriously died when he was about three, they left him one of the youngest billionaires ever. He grew up a British citizen, got duel doctorates from Cambridge in History and Archeology, and now alternated between the middle of nowhere and the jet set, helming his parents' corporation all the while. I was surprised it had taken me this long to make the connection, but then again, one doesn't expect to encounter the rich and famous slumming at such a bizarre convention. I'm sure I looked surprised, to say the least. "I see," I finally managed. "I had no idea you were, well...famous."

Laughlin, looking abashed, replied, "I never really think of myself as famous. I know that in the financial circles my company is well regarded, but I never think that the general public has any idea of who I am. Thankfully, I am not hounded by photographers, like the Royals. Of course, the few that have tried have been totally unable to get either a good or an interesting shot of me," he added with a smile.

I chuckled. "That sounds like quite a trick. One that half of Hollywood would probably love to possess. How on earth do you manage to thwart those vultures? Luck?"

"Nothing like a little oil atomizer pointed in the right direction, but don't reveal my secret." He smiled.

"Never fear, I have little love for those sorts of people." I ate silently for a minute or two, pondering this new information. Given who he was, the odds of him being Stroeker's contact were somewhat diminished, to say the least. "So, if you don't mind my asking, how did you get interested in archeology, anyway?"

"No, I don't mind. It seemed a natural outgrowth of my desire to really see where history had taken place. I wanted to get into the tombs and look for stuff, not just read and write papers based on other papers." He paused, then changed the subject again. "Enough about me, what about you? I have to admit that I find it a little strange that someone would use this trip as their vacation. It's odd enough that you would have even heard of it."

Oh, for God's sake! How many times was he going to return to this topic? I hid my annoyance and even managed a chuckle. "Well, you can blame my having heard of the conference on my ex-boyfriend. He was pretty interested in this sort of thing, much more than I am. He was a bit too into conspiracy theories, though. He actually believes the moon landing never took place. Thinks the government staged the whole thing. Can you imagine? Anyway, he'd talked about this conference before, as something he would like to go to, someday. I finally had enough money saved up to go someplace nice on my vacation, and I wanted someplace tropical. I was looking through brochures for the usual places, Hawaii, Mexico, the Caribbean, but they all seemed so...I don't know. Touristy, maybe. Dull. I wanted to go someplace different, and well, this certainly fits the bill. I'm just hoping Bob didn't pick this year to come too. I haven't seen him so far, though. Like I said, so far the conference has been much duller than I was expecting, but it's not over yet. And it's not like the location isn't everything I'd hoped it would be. I ducked out of this afternoon's lecture and just hung out at the beach for a while. Have you been swimming yet?"

"I have indeed been swimming. I went out to the native village and swam while I was out there. Isn't this a beautiful place? I imagine that regardless of the reason that you decided to come here, you are happy that you did."

"Absolutely! Even if the rest of this conference is boring, I'll still have fun." Right now I'd say almost anything to get him to stop harping on why I'd come here. Time for a change of subject. "What is the native village like, anyway? I haven't made it out there yet."

"Really, it is about what you would expect. More or less straight out of a brochure. Still worth checking out."

"I might do just that. So long as it's not too touristy and full of people selling trinkets."

"I'm sure you would enjoy yourself. If you would like company I wouldn't mind going again. Ata Fakahau is always good to see,"

"Ata Fakahau? Is that the name of the village?"

"Ata Fakahau is the name of one of the village women. She is a real character."

"Oh? In what sense?"

"You would have to meet her. She sits there and grills you on the world while she is braiding coconut fronds. Very surreal."

"Well, if she doesn't have a radio, I don't suppose she has any other way of finding out what's going on. It's interesting that she cares at all, though. What sorts of things was she most interested in? Political situations or something else?"

"She was interested in just about everything. I imagine that she could have a radio if she wanted one, I wonder why she doesn't? Possibly from being an oral history culture? Always likes to see someone talking?"

"Possibly. Maybe she just likes talking to people. Heck, for all we know, she does have a radio, but she likes to see how people from different countries slant the information they tell her."

We continued to make small talk for a time, on subjects so pointless I can't really recall what they were any more. At one point, I noticed Stroeker wander away from the party with a pretty but too-thin blonde woman under one arm. They appeared to be heading back to his hotel room, which jibed with the information from Brian that he was storing some things in his bungalow. I really needed to check that out, and it occurred to me that this might be the perfect opportunity, as he was likely to be busy with the blonde for a while. Good thing I'd thought to bring my lockpicks along on the trip with me.

Despite the fact that we were past the midway point for the feast, there was still a large crowd present, so I could easily slip away without notice. Provided I was able to ditch Laughlin, of course, something I didn't think would be too difficult. Still, it wouldn't be dark enough for me to try anything for another 90 minutes or so, so I decided to spend a little more time chatting with the Professor. Not that I thought it likely that he was Stroeker's contact anymore, but still, there was something unusual about him. Besides, I could be wrong about him. He wouldn't be the first rich man to get bored and dabble in a life of crime.

I talked to Laughlin for about an hour more, sampling more of the various local foods in the process. After clearing my plate one final time, I stretched and said, "I think that's enough for me tonight. If I eat anything more, I'll burst." Which was only a slight exaggeration, but I wasn't worried about it interfering with my upcoming foray into Stroeker's bungalow. I've always had a fast metabolism. I stood and picked up my handbag, then smiled sincerely at Laughlin. "It was nice meeting you. I'll see you at Bromowitz's lecture tomorrow, if not before."

"Sounds good to me. I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded and headed back to my cabin. Play time was over. It was time to get to work.

Jillian's Page | Jillian's Journals

Last modified on May 19, 2002 by Kris Fazzari.