be there by now. Set me up.'
Daniel dialed the international code, got a recorded message that all overseas cables were in use. He phoned the local operator, after several minutes of debate, obtained an international line. Gene took the receiver, dialed Virginia, and waited.
'No ring yet.'
'Sometimes it takes a while.'
The black man nodded, tapped the phone with his finger. 'McGuire's a very nice guy-cooperative for a Fed. He's in Disputed Documents at the FBI Academy in Quantico, used to be in the L.A. office. We worked together on a forgery case that turned into-All right, it's ringing.'
A moment later he was talking to his contact, speaking in a low, level voice:
'Hello, Sam? This is Gene Brooker. I'm calling from the Middle East? Yup, you heard right. Doing some international consulting? Yeah, I'll tell you about it when I get back. Anyway, I need access to VICAP-Serial Killer Data Bank in particular. Got some homicides with a possible international connection, want to run the wound patterns and modus, see if anything you guys have matches up? No, nothing iffy politically? not at all-you've got my word on it, Scout's honor. Just trying to catch a bad guy with a possible wide radius of operations? Yes, I know it's still in development. Any profiles worked out?? Okay, I'll take what I can get. So who do I speak to?? You will? Terrific. I owe you. Got a pen? These are the parameters?'
When he was through discussing the list with McGuire, he gave his room number at the Laromme for callback, covered the mouthpiece, and said, 'Want to use your office for a backup number?'
'Yes,' said Daniel, 'and here.' He wrote down both numbers and Gene gave them to the FBI man.
Thanking McGuire again, Gene hung up and said, 'All set. Couple of days, maybe longer. They're not set up for profiling yet. Just basic statistics and collation.'
'Thank you, Gene.'
'Don't mention it.'
They went over the case again, Gene offering empathy and suggestions, but nothing Daniel hadn't thought of. One part of Daniel regretted the lack of new ideas. The other felt good that an outsider had little to offer.
At three-thirty his stomach rumbled and he realized he'd skipped breakfast and lunch. 'Hungry?' he asked Gene.
'I could eat.'
He got up to fix cheese sandwiches and brew coffee when the phone rang: an operator from Headquarters informing him that a Mr. Friedman from Bonn was on the phone and threatening to hang up if they didn't find Pakad Sharavi within thirty seconds.
'Put me through,' he said.
'You should tell us when you leave the office,' said the operator, and connected him to Bonn.
'Sharavi.'
'Sharavi, this Friedman. I hear you've got problems.' The Interpol man's voice was hoarse. He talked loud and fast, like someone shouting farewells from a moving train.
'We could use some help.'
'That's for sure. Had a hell of a time reaching you-no one over there seems to know what they're doing.'
Two months in Germany and the man considered himself an ubermensch. Daniel let the slur pass, told him what he wanted, ending with detailed descriptions of the wounds.
'Ugly,' said Friedman. 'Do you want Greece too?'
'Yes.'
'It's going to take some time.'
'Do the best you can.'
'Bear in mind that there's a time lag with the computer-some of our so-called current data's over a year old. Anything really recent's going to require personal calls.'
'I'm aware of that. Four weeks is our cutoff. I'd appreciate the calls.'
'What's your lead to Europe?'
'Possible ID of a foreign suspect.'
'What do you mean by 'possible'?'
'The source said American but that could mean European.'
'The source stupid or just being cagey?'
'Unavailable, whereabouts unknown. The ID's secondhand.'
'Sounds weak to me,' said Friedman.
'If I had the case solved, I wouldn't be calling you.'
'No need to get sensitive. I'll get you what you want. All I'm telling you is that it sounds weak. Anything else I should know about?'
'Nothing.'
