'True,' I said cautiously. 'They knew. But they had no motive to — '
'No. But let's… cast a wide net here. I don't want to go off half-cocked.' She sipped her Scotch. 'I hate this Johnny Walker shit.'
'Then why did you order it?' I asked, almost relieved to have a change of subject.
'Because I can't afford anything good. Okay. And you got the time of the rumour screwed up. The rumour was all over South Africa when I got there, everyone was talking about it, and that was two days before McLaughlin was found. The eye mutilation thing and everything.'
'Waitaminit,' I said. 'Before?'
'Before.'
'Who starts talking about serial killers when only one person has been killed?'
'The serial killer,' she said. 'Who else? Unless he hired a PR agency.'
'That's nuts.'
'So is he,' she pointed out.
'Could be a she.'
'Right, that happens a lot,' she said sarcastically. 'But for the sake of argument, let's just call him a he. Anyways. There's still one totally huge Mack-Truck-sized hole in your otherwise pretty theory, you know.'
'Yeah,' I said. 'I do.'
'June 8 in Mozambique, June 14 in Malawi. Possible. But June 14 in Malawi and June 15 in fucking Cameroon? Come on.'
'Yeah,' I said. 'I was thinking maybe he did it deliberately to confuse things, he raced to the airport in Malawi, flew to Harare, flew to Cameroon, and the next day went right out and — ' But she was shaking her head as if I was suggesting Wings were better than the Beatles.
'Okay,' I admitted. 'That part doesn't make sense to me either.' It wouldn't make sense to anyone who had ever traveled in Africa. 'Unless maybe the June 14 date is wrong. If you move it back to June 13 or June 12 it starts becoming kind of possible.'
'Then he's only got four or five days to get from Mozambique to Malawi and find some fresh meat… but, okay, maybe just maybe. I got a vague idea that that June 14 date is pretty solid but I'm not sure off the top of my head. I've still got my notes, I'll look it up. I take it you're sure about the June 15 date?'
'Very,' I said shortly. 'Okay. What about the knives? Did that happen in the south?'
'I don't know. It was all locals who found the bodies there, and I never talked to them directly. The police probably wouldn't have told me who they were either. All they said was that the eyes were mutilated. They wouldn't say how. I knew a policeman in Cape Town, if he still works there then I'll ask him.'
'Great.' I swigged from my Scotch. 'Huh. Jeez.'
'What?' she asked, and I met those blue eyes directly for the first time and had to look away in a hurry.
'It's just nice to be able to talk to someone else about this,' I said. 'And, you know, even if I'm wrong, to be taken seriously. I'd started to wonder if I was just losing the plot and going paranoid.'
'You've definitely got something serious here. Can I take this?' She put her hand out on the folder. 'And the pictures? I'm going to try and talk my editor into giving you access. You still might be wrong, but we're going to take you seriously.'
'Thank you,' I said. 'Thank you very much.'
Chapter 11 Traceroute
The next day I finished all the work I had by noon and spent the rest of the afternoon surfing the Web and playing foozball. There were a lot of people with time to play foozball. Not a good sign. Kevin reassured me that the Morgan Stanley project I was due to lead was just 'hung up on the dotting the t's and crossing the i's stage.' He sounded like he even believed it. If he hadn't I would have begun polishing my resume.
Just before I logged off and went home I got a crushingly disappointing email:
From: talenar@lonelyplanet. com
To: BalthazarWood@yahoo. com
Subject: Your proposal cc: editorial@lonelyplanet. com
Dear Mr. Wood,
We have considered all the information you have sent us and we regret to inform you that we have decided not to assist you in your investigation.
While we appreciate how serious your suspicions are, we feel it would be irresponsible of us to assist you without evidence that shows beyond any reasonable doubt that your theory is correct. While you have amassed an impressive collection of circumstantial evidence there remain unexplained holes in your timeline of events and there is no 'smoking gun'. Our stated Thorn Tree privacy policy is that we will never reveal information about a user without their consent, and any violation of this policy without being compelled by a subpoena could leave us open to damaging lawsuits. In short, so long as it is possible that you may be wrong, we do not wish to participate in what may be a wild-goose chase.
We do regret our lack of cooperation and hope that you understand our motivation. If you do acquire any new and compelling evidence, please let us know.
Sincerely,
Talena Radovich
Web Editor
Lonely Planet Publications
I restrained myself from punching my laptop. It wasn't the computer's fault. 'Shit,' I said. 'Fuck. Shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck.' It didn't make me feel any better.
I went home to my apartment and turned on my TV and went up into Deep Cable to find the most brain-dead programming that I could. I was sick of thinking. I was beginning to think of lobotomies with longing.
About ten minutes into Married… With Children I got a phone call.
'Balthazar? Hi. It's Talena.'
'Oh,' I said. 'Yeah. I got your email.'
'Right. Let's pretend that you didn't.'
I tried to figure out what she meant and failed. 'What?'
'I talked it over with the board, and they're all very sympathetic and might even be willing to violate the privacy policy without a subpoena if you happen to get a videotape of the guy confessing his crimes.'
'That's big of them.'
'But first of all they don't want to violate their policy, and second of all they don't want to discourage people from traveling without hard evidence. Actually what they're scared of is that you'll go to the media. You can never tell what stories take off, and if yours does, we might be selling a lot fewer books for awhile.'
'Well, you can tell them that their worst fears are about to come true,' I said, trying to make it sound like a threat.
'I could. However. That's what the board thinks, and instructed me to tell you.'
'I don't understand why you're calling me. And how did you get my number?'
She sighed patiently as if talking to a child. 'The miracle of call display. And I'm calling you to tell you that the board and I think differently. That I think probably being onto something is good enough. So I'm personally going to help you.'
'Really?'
'Yes, really.'
'Help me how exactly?' I asked.
'What kind of help do you want?'
'I want the logs off your web server.'
'Then I'll get them to you,' she said.
'You could be fired.'
'Only if you tell someone.'
