'That was a mess,' Jamie said like she'd been there. The crinkles weren't that deep. 'The debris was scattered over miles and yet investigators were able to determine the exact cause. They found a tiny piece of circuit board from an electronic digital timer. It'd been placed inside a radio-cassette player along with Semtex then placed inside a brown Samsonite suitcase.' She paused, noting Yarden's dropped jaw. 'Yeah, amazing, huh?'
'Are you saying this piece of metal might be some sort of circuit board?' Nick asked.
'No, it's not. It's a bit different. But what I am saying is that we can determine a lot from fragments. Sometimes they're very definable. The devices used to detonate a bomb are sort of like a black box in an airplane. It can tell us a great deal of things. That circuit board found in the Lockerbie bombing was identified as a particular digital timer manufactured by a company in Zurich. Only twenty of the devices had been made. Special ordered and custom made for the Libyan government.'
'Wow!'
Nick glanced at Jerry Yarden. Maggie might have some competition. Looked like Yarden had transferred his awestruck attention and affection to Jamie. Nick thought he saw the beginning of a smile at the corner of her mouth but otherwise she seemed unfazed. Instead, she continued.
'This detonating device is something I've only seen once before.'
'So you might be able to track it to its manufacturer?'
She hesitated at Nick's question. 'There's a good possibility.'
'Wait a minute,' Ceimo said for the first time. 'You didn't tell me that before.'
'I'm just saying it's a possibility. Remember I still have to piece the fragments together. But from what I'm seeing so far, this device looks like it may be specialized enough that we might be able to track its manufacturer. It's certainly different. Not digital. Not a preset. For lack of a better definition, it's wireless. It allows the bomb to be detonated with a remote control.'
'Could they have each had a remote control on them at the same time?'
Jamie shook her head. 'I'm not finding anything to indicate that, but truthfully,' she said, shrugging, 'the only reason for a remote control device like this is if you don't want to be anywhere near the bomb when you detonate it.'
'Why not just use a digital one?' Nick insisted. 'Set all of them for the same time? You wouldn't have to be nearby then, either, would you?'
'That's true. But things can go wrong with the digitals. If you get delayed you can't reset them, at least, not so easily or quickly.'
'And if he used a remote control, why not just leave the backpacks where he wanted them to go off?'
'We would have noticed them,' Yarden said. 'We watch for anything left behind.'
'Exactly,' Jamie agreed. 'Too much of a risk that they'd be found before they exploded.'
There was a silence. No one wanted to admit what it all meant that the bombers may have been victims, too.
'There's something else,' Jamie finally said. With an index finger she pulled out another piece of metal. 'Not conclusive,' she warned, 'but the backpacks may have had some kind of padlock on them.'
Nick rubbed at his jaw. He remembered how much those guys reminded him of his nephew, Timmy. Older versions but ordinary, clean-cut guys. Enjoyed football. Maybe played. The one had on a letterman jacket. He remembered their confident strides on the video. No nervous jitters. No swiveling heads or darting eyes. Just walking up and down the mall.
What the hell did they think they had locked away in those backpacks? And who convinced them to carry them around a crowded mall?
'You said you've seen this type of detonator before,' Nick reminded the bomb expert.
Jamie hesitated, looked to Ceimo.
'It's okay,' he told her. 'The governor wants Al Banoff 's guys up to speed on this.'
'I've seen it only in the plans for another bomb. We caught the guy before he completed it. He had the entire blueprint drawn and claimed it was simply a class project. But he'd already begun constructing it. The detonating device was very similar to this one, an advanced wireless system that could be triggered via a remote control. It stood out because it was pretty different from what we're used to seeing. So was the bomb he was planning. That's why he needed to be able to detonate it from as far away as possible.'
'What was so different about it?'
'It was supposed to be a dirty bomb.'
CHAPTER 37
Asante had cleared airport security with no problems. He presented a boarding pass and driver's license and received only a cursory glance with a wave of a busy hand. Even his duffel bag made it through with a brief pause on the conveyer. No one spoke to him. No one gave him a second look. It was perfect.
Except that here he still sat at his gate. His flight was delayed. No new departure time even hinted at.
He avoided drawing attention to himself but stayed close enough to listen. He'd heard the desk clerk tell another passenger that their plane was on the ground in Chicago and the snowstorm kept it there. As soon as it was cleared for takeoff and on its way, she would alert everyone. Until then, they could only wait.
'No,' she told several impatient passengers. 'There were no other flights tonight to Las Vegas.'
On his handheld computer, Asante had done his own search of other flights on other airlines. Unfortunately the clerk was correct. There were no other flights from Minneapolis to Las Vegas until morning and all of those were booked or overbooked.
'It is after all, Thanksgiving weekend,' he overheard the clerk defend herself when one of the passengers complained.
Asante kept calm. Just another glitch.
He had already checked rental cars, too. None available. Even those due back were delayed because of the storm. What Asante had earlier called a godsend was quickly turning into a?a glitch, he reminded himself. Only a glitch.
Sitting so close to the information desk, he'd shut off his phone's ringer and ignored all calls. Now he checked messages. They knew better than to leave text messages. Too easy to trace. There was, however, one voice message. He pushed the button to listen.
'Hi, it's me,' the woman's voice said in a cheerful, familiar tone, a wife leaving a quick message for a husband. 'Just wanted to let you know Becky hasn't been picked up yet. She's out of cash. On our way to get her now.'
Asante smiled. He should have been upset that Rebecca Cory was still wandering around. 'She's out of cash,' meant that the girl must have tried an ATM machine. Their system would be able to tell them exactly where the ATM machine was located. They'd know exactly where to 'get her.'
He checked his wristwatch. If the plane was still in Chicago there was no way it would get here within an hour. He had ignored his hunger for too long, and he believed taking care of the basics kept the mind sharp. Food was one of those basics. He set the alarm on his watch for thirty minutes. On his handheld computer, that he continued to keep strapped to his other wrist, he set the alarm for any weather alerts concerning Chicago and Minneapolis. Then he swung his duffel up over his shoulder and headed off to find something to eat.
Despite the delay he was safe here. If the authorities began searching for another person?another John Doe #2?they'd never identify him now. Even if they captured his image on any of the mall's cameras and started canvassing the airport to prevent his escape, they'd never find him. Most airports didn't have cameras in their ticketing or receiving areas. Those were virtually securityless or what Asante liked to call, 'security-lite.' And the John Doe #2 who had facilitated the mall bombing was no longer anywhere to be found. He had been left down in one of those camera-less areas, stuffed away in the restroom trash and flushed down the toilet.
CHAPTER 38
