He especially liked the opening of the book, and found the description of his counselor's meeting amusing. The rest of the book was captivating, and he was easily entranced by its story. However, some of the information was too specific for Colfer not to have been on-site as the event was taking place. This led Artemis to a single question:
How was Colfer getting all this information?
He was going to find out by any means necessary.
Artemis tried to visit Colfer one day, but, surprisingly, the author wasn't home. He called, and Colfer answered with a hurried tone. He sounded out of breath.
"Can I talk to you later, Artemis?" The young genius frowned. This was definitely not the response he had expected.
"Why? What are you doing right now?"
"Running. Really, really fast. I'll call back...wait, I guess I won't. Call me in about an hour. Bye!" The line went dead, and Artemis hung up, slightly frustrated. What could Eoin Colfer possibly be up to that made him too important to talk to Artemis Fowl?
Colfer ran, checking his watch occasionally. He had exactly five minutes before his flight left, and had taken a wrong turn. It was a costly mistake.
He was trying to determine the fastest route to his gate when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a withheld number, which meant it could only be one person. Colfer flipped open the phone, breathing heavily.
"Can I talk to you later, Artemis?" he asked quickly. His heart was pounding in his ears, with only four minutes left.
"Why? What are you doing right now?" the genius asked. Colfer could hear the confusion in his voice.
"Running. Really, really fast. I'll call you back," he said without thinking. Then he remembered that it was a secure line, and corrected himself. "...Wait, I guess I won't. Call me in about an hour. Bye!" He hung up instantly, realizing he had reached the gate, and switched off his phone. He stopped to catch his breath, and boarded the flight with thirty seconds to spare.
He had been on the other side of Ireland, tracking another young mind. His name was Fletcher Moon, and he had his own detective company called Half Moon Investigations. With the money from his recent book sales, Colfer had decided to get the story behind the new kid before returning to the never-ending hunt for information on Artemis Fowl.
Now he was flying back home, with a ton of information for a new book. As he stepped onto the plane, he wondered what Artemis could have been calling him about.
Hopefully it was nothing important.
Artemis called Colfer exactly one hour later, 'exactly' being accurate down to the last tenth of a second.
"Okay, I've got some time now. Why did you call me, Artemis?" he said into the phone.
"Why don't you come with me, and I'll explain things on the way?" said a voice behind him. Colfer turned and was greeted by the criminal mastermind himself, hanging up his phone immediately.
"How did you-"
"Security cameras," he answered curtly, motioning for Colfer to follow him. The now confused author grabbed his suitcase and caught up with Artemis, hoping he wouldn't have to run again.
They reached the Bentley, black paint and tinted windows definitely making it look mysterious. Butler held the door open for Colfer, who gaped at the inside of the car. It probably cost as much as his house.
"You're probably wondering why I called you," said Artemis nonchalantly. Colfer nodded wordlessly.
"I need to know your source of information. How you're able to find out everything about me and what I do for a living without actually being there." Colfer bit his tongue nervously. He didn't dare mention Foaly's name for fear that Artemis would stalk the centaur. He was wondering what to do when the answer came to him. He chose an approach that only Artemis himself ever used.
"If you've read the prologue of the first novel, as I'm sure you have, you'll see that I interviewed the victims of your various crimes, based on a report from Professor J. Argon. How else would I be able to document so much information?" Colfer swallowed nervously. Had it worked?
It was simple enough. Artemis often made his victims delve deep into their memories to try and remember whatever he told them while he added in enough flowery language to make the average person's head spin.
Had Artemis fallen for his own tactical plan?
Hardly. He saw it in Colfer's eyes before a single word was spoken.
" 'Jargon'. Very clever," he said with a sigh. "You would be able to document such information if you had someone on the inside-someone real- working for you. May I see your mobile phone?" Though the question was off-topic, Colfer warily handed his phone to Artemis. After searching for a few seconds, Artemis found what he was looking for and smiled his vampire smile.
"It's Foaly, isn't it?" Colfer gaped at the young boy.
"How did you know?" Artemis held up the cell phone so Colfer was looking at the bottom edge.
"He tends to sign his work." Colfer now saw what Artemis meant. A small line of Gnommish letters around the charging port read 'Foaly'. Artemis handed the phone back to Colfer, who stared at it for a second or two before taking it back.
"How would you know to look for something like that?" Artemis deviously brought his own cell phone forward. It was exactly the same model as Colfer's, with the exception of the Fowl family crest and Latin motto etched on the front cover.
"I should have known."
"Yes, you should have," agreed Artemis, returning the wafer-thin cell phone to his pocket. They arrived at Fowl manor before going to Colfer's house. Artemis invited him in, but Colfer declined, saying he needed to assemble the research for a new book he was writing. As Butler drove Colfer to his house, Artemis couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Another smart kid was taking over his biographer. He decided he didn't like this very much.
"Artemis! You're home!" called his mother, waving from a third-story window. Artemis waved back.
"We just got a call from the hospital. Your father is awake! He's alive!" Artemis ran inside, suddenly glad that he wouldn't be seeing Colfer for a while. He had a lot of catching up to do with a certain Irish crime lord.