How had they tracked her to the restaurant? When she’d flagged down Lucas Griffin’s taxi, did she mention Alliotto’s? She couldn’t recall for sure. But from the argument they’d had, the government women hadn’t been with Holdren. Then what had brought them? She knew the technology existed to track her on the Web, but she had scrupulously avoided using her normal log-on and had called up an incognito window in the search engine. Even if they had found her on the Web, they couldn’t have located her IP-address that quickly. Cell phones could be traced. That implied not only scanning towers but also knowing the code for her personal telephone. If that was how they found her, then they were certainly going to a lot of effort.
She needed to access John’s file and see where he wanted to meet.
The trolley ride would take a little time, but she wanted to be ready to run if Holdren or his people spotted her. Caitlin leaned back against the seat and watched the streets. In five or six minutes, they reached Powell Avenue, and she signaled the driver that she wanted to get off.
When the trolley stopped, Caitlin climbed off and walked up Powell until she reached a set of steps up to an old building. She went up into the portico. It smelled of stale urine. Opening her purse, Caitlin set her computer on the top step and opened it.
She called up John’s file and activated the decryption program. “All right, John, how tricky were you? Let’s try Grand Canyon.”
The screen displayed “password accepted” and a few seconds later a single line of text appeared. “The Gleaning Cube, 1242 Battery Street.”
“Well, that was easy enough. Now where’s Battery Street?”
Caitlin switched over to the main menu and called up a street map of San Francisco. She entered the address, and a moment later, a small red dot glowed on the southeast side of town, near the waterfront. After reading the address on a building across the street, Caitlin typed it in and clicked on directions.
A faint green line stretched east on Powell, cut over a few blocks, east again, then ran south to stop at the blue dot.
The readout said 2.3 miles.
“Hell.”
Her watch indicated she had fifteen minutes before their appointment. She couldn’t walk it in time. Three blocks farther down Powell, she could see the marquee for a hotel. She closed the computer, put it in her purse, and left the portico.
Paranoia took over as she neared the hotel. She stepped into the shadows of another doorway and spent a couple of minutes watching the hotel’s entrance. A few people came and went. One couple looked like they had just returned from the opera. When the man helped his date from the taxi, he swept her into his arms and kissed her passionately. Caitlin felt a twinge of envy at the sight of their happiness.
No one sat in a parked car like in the movies when the police staked out a scene. In fact, everything appeared normal.
She slipped her hand into her purse and closed her fingers around the small gun she’d taken from the cab. She took one deep breath and then walked the rest of the way. The doorman watched her approach, and when she motioned to him, he raised a white-gloved hand and summoned a waiting cab. It pulled forward and stopped at the curb. The doorman held the door for her, and Caitlin slipped a bill into his hand as she carefully studied the cab. The back seat was empty.
She slipped quickly in and waited until the door shut.
“Where to?”
“Nowhere in particular. How about just letting me look around?”
“It’s your money.” The cabby flicked the meter down and pulled out into the street.
Caitlin turned to look out the rear window. No other cars pulled out to follow them, and the doorman had forgotten her as soon as he’d shut the door.
“Any particular area you want to see?”
Caitlin hesitated, she didn’t want to come right out and give the address on the chance that somehow those after her could hear. She realized she was a little too paranoid, but being shot at did that to her. “Take me through downtown and then maybe we’ll turn south and drive along the waterfront.”
“Sure thing.”
“I guess I sound a little oddball,” Caitlin said as she leaned forward to examine the cabby’s ID. It appeared genuine, and the photo seemed to match what she could see of him.
“Nah, not oddball. I’ve seen them all. Wackos, dope heads, homicidal maniacs, you name it. You seem pretty normal compared to them guys.”
She relaxed a little and released her grip on the gun. “Really? How could you tell?”
Her gaze met his in the rearview mirror. He raised a finger and touched his eyes.
“Are you kidding? It’s in the eyes.” He pointed to the mirror.
“Lady, I’ve seen them looking at me right there. I tell ya, some of the things I’ve seen would make your blood go cold.”
They stopped at a traffic light on Market Street and two young couples sporting facial tattoos and various body piercings crossed in front of them.
“Case in point.” He motioned toward them.
“And yet you continue to drive a cab.”
“I’m one of them people watchers. I like watching people and listening to them. You know people will talk about stuff in a cab that they wouldn’t tell a priest.”
The light changed. Caitlin’s thoughts wandered as they crossed Market and went a couple of blocks before turning east again. “You can tell a lot by watching people, take you for instance.”
