“I wasn’t aware.”
“Neither was I. Then I read the official report.”
“And?”
“A man-a young black man from what we can tell-using a bogus ID, hacked into the desktop computer of a low-level account specialist, then almost got caught getting away. Computer forensics traced the specific files that had been compromised and included that information in their report. The intruder was looking for Manny Ferris, one of our guys.” There was a prolonged silence. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here. Do you know who the person was?”
“No. But I did get a copy of the security tape. It looks like a boy-a teenager-but I don’t know who he is. As usual with the stone-age equipment they buy from convenience stores and allocate to the VA, the camera didn’t get a clear shot of his face.”
“Do you have the tape with you?”
“Of course.”
No “nice job” or “great work.”
“We have ways of figuring those things out,” the voice said. “Now listen carefully. I want you to put the tape in your Cracker Jack box and drop it into the trash receptacle to your left. Then leave the park the way you came in. We’ll be in touch.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“Look, I’m not comfortable with this anymore. Unlike most everyone in the VA system, the computer forensics people actually know what they’re doing. I did a lot of research for you. There are ways to connect me to Ferris.”
“I said we’ll be in touch.”
“That’s not enough anymore,” MacCandliss snapped, aware of a sudden flush of nervous perspiration. “I want information. I want to know exactly what I’m putting my neck on the line for.”
“We promised you promotions and you’ve gotten them.”
“Well, that’s not enough anymore. My job security might be shot. If these forensics people keep digging, I may end up in front of a judicial hearing. I want to know what I’m involved in. I don’t know how deep this thing goes, but I’m guessing deep enough.” MacCandliss could not believe what he was hearing his own voice saying. “Forget the promotions,” he went on, “I want cash and I want information, or I’m going to dial forensics’ number before they dial mine.”
“I… see. And what sized… bonus do you think would be appropriate?”
“Half a million should cover what I would stand to lose from my pension if this situation blows up and I have to run,” MacCandliss replied, the uncertainty now gone from his voice.
“Thank you for bringing these matters to our attention, Mr. MacCandliss. I understand your position and I will see that your concerns are addressed. Please rest assured that you will be well taken care of.”
“I’m deadly serious,” MacCandliss said.
“Oh, so are we.”
CHAPTER 23
When his phone rang-the Bach Organ Fugue in G Minor Koller had programmed for that number-he knew Jillian Coates was calling Paul Regis. He answered on the fifth ring, already in character.
“Yes,” he said, as his mind traveled back to that day in her condominium, seizing upon the details that made her put so much trust and faith in the insurance investigator.
“Hello, is this Paul?”
“Yes it is,” Koller said. “Can I help you?”
“Paul, it’s Jillian Coates. You were at my condo last week.”
“Jillian, of course.” Koller made certain his voice revealed both surprise and delight at her call. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, I was speaking with a friend of mine. Well, not really a friend. We just met actually.”
Naturally, she was talking about Dr. Nick Garrity. Koller had followed her to the Helping Hands Mobile Medical Unit, but had tired of waiting for her when an hour passed after she disappeared inside the RV. He had returned to his hotel and done some research on Garrity’s operation, and knew enough about the onetime army doctor and his shoestring-budget medical RV to feel certain that the man was hardly a threat.
“So,” he said, drumming his fingers on the desk, “does this new friend have anything to do with me?”
“No,” Jillian said, her laugh sounding somewhat forced. “I went to see him because… because we have some friends in common. In passing, I happened to mention the fire and my persistent suspicion that having my sister being murdered one day and my apartment burning down just a couple of weeks later seems like more than a coincidence. He agreed with me, and promised to speak with a friend of his who is a detective on the Washington police force.”
“Do you know this detective’s name?”
Koller was bouncing the eraser more rapidly and forcefully.
“I don’t know his name,” Jillian said, “but I was wondering if you might send me a copy of your report so my friend Nick can take it to him?”
“Of course. Where are you staying?”
Jillian gave him the address of the nursing school dorm, which he had already written down.
“I’m so grateful to you, Paul. Do you expect to be in D.C. any time soon?”
“Not that I know of, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m still busy trying to find a lead on Belle’s murderer, and I’ve used up most of my vacation time at work, but as soon as things slow down for me, I’ll call, okay?”
“That would be terrific,” Koller said, wondering why she almost certainly was lying about how she knew Garrity. “Listen, I’ll get a copy of the report and get it right off to you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Paul. You’re the best.”
“No, Jillian Coates, you are.”
CHAPTER 24
“This is easy. How about giving me something really hard to do.”
Reggie shifted his gaze between the two computer monitors crammed side-by-side on his makeshift board- and-cinderblock desk, as his fingers deftly worked two keyboards simultaneously. It was hard for Nick to believe that he had known the kid for more than two years, during which Reggie Smith’s remarkable intellect and abilities had never been disclosed.
With Jillian’s guidance, Manny Ferris had managed to break through whatever had damaged his brain enough to single out a view of the rear of the Lincoln Memorial as being particularly disturbing to him. Now, it was crucial to determine precisely where he had been and, at least as important, why he had been there.
Nick, Jillian, and Junie stood clustered behind the gangly teen, who was nothing short of a digital maestro, conducting his symphony from the comfort of his well-worn swivel chair with no small flair for showmanship. Nick was aware of Jillian’s closeness-the pressure of her shoulder against his, the fresh scent of her hair. He knew what was happening, but after so many years, he had trouble believing it.
The photograph that Ferris had selected provided more than enough information for Reggie. He began with Google Maps and brought in some software of his own. There was an air of tense anticipation as he worked. In all, after re-creating the trees lining the Potomac, it took him no more than three minutes to locate what he said was the only building from which Manny Ferris could have a view across the river to the rear of the Lincoln
