‘No wallet? How’d she rent her car?’
‘Beats me.’
‘Any ID?’
‘I was working on that when you came in.’ He grabbed a sealed plastic bag from his desk and dangled it in the air. Inside was a single US passport, already opened to the photo page. ‘According to this, her full name was Ashley Marie Duvall.’
‘Ashley was her
‘Kind of.’
‘What does that mean?’
Jones leaned back in his chair. ‘I ran that name through the State Department computer and got zero hits. It isn’t in their database.’
‘Her passport was fake?’
‘Yep, a damn good one. I couldn’t spot any flaws.’
Payne walked across the room and snatched the bag from Jones’s hand. When he did, a fine layer of powder settled on the interior of the plastic. ‘You dusted for prints?’
‘Of course I dusted for prints. I had three hours to kill.’
‘And?’
IAFIS stood for Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System, a national fingerprint and criminal- history database that was maintained by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and intended for law-enforcement agencies, not the private sector. But thanks to his connections at the Pentagon, Jones had full access to the system.
Payne sat down. ‘How lucky?’
‘Very lucky. Our girl had a record.’
‘For what?’
‘She was a lifelong thief.’ Jones held up a threepage printout, then handed it to Payne. ‘Her real name was Ashley Henderson. Born and raised in Camden, New Jersey, she was first arrested at thirteen and had been in and out of juvenile homes until eighteen. On the bright side, her last known address
‘See,’ Payne joked, ‘there’s a little good in all of us.’
Glancing at the document, Payne focused on the driver’s licence photo on the first page. It was definitely the woman they had met earlier, the victim who had been killed at Heinz Chapel. Ashley the teacher
The last question was the one that worried him the most.
‘Any thoughts on her murder?’ Payne asked.
‘Anytime you’re dealing with a criminal, there’s always a chance she pissed off the wrong person. But considering tonight’s circumstances, I’m not sure that was the case.’
‘What circumstances?’
‘Not only was she murdered, it happened three hundred miles from home. That’s a long way to give chase if someone had a problem with her in Philly.’
‘Good point.’
‘Furthermore, I ran down her travel arrangements. She flew in this afternoon, under the name Ashley Duvall, and booked a return flight for tomorrow. Her tickets were purchased online within the last twenty-four hours, meaning her killer didn’t have much time to set things up. If
‘What do we know about him?’ Payne wondered.
‘I ran his prints, but IAFIS didn’t have a match. If he’s killed before, he hasn’t been caught.’
‘What about other databases?’
Jones shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t had time to try.’
‘Wow,’ Payne teased, ‘I gave you three hours to wrap everything up, and that’s all you got? I thought you were a professional?’
‘Don’t push it, Jon, or I’ll charge you for my time.’
‘Go ahead and bill me. What do janitors make per hour?’
Jones ignored him. ‘Anyway, if it’s okay with you, I’m gonna call it a night. Let me get some rest, and I’ll do more digging in the morning. Maybe something else will turn up.’
Unfortunately for them, his words were prophetic.
17
Sunday, 13 December
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
When Payne took over the business a few years ago, he redecorated the place, eliminating the old decor and adding a touch of luxury. Now, when he or his board of directors needed to impress an out-of-state executive or a foreign client, Payne Industries had the most scenic penthouse in the city at their disposal. And when the suite was empty and Payne didn’t feel like
With an empty pantry and a growling stomach, Payne put on some jeans, a sweatshirt, and a winter coat. He rode the elevator to the ground floor and exited through the lobby. Just up the street was a local bakery known for its fresh bread and pastries. On Sundays, it was always packed with churchgoers, but he knew when services ended and avoided those times.
Strolling up Grandview Avenue, the picturesque road that overlooked the city, he gazed at the river below. The Gateway Clipper steamed across the icy water, shuttling Steelers fans to Heinz Field from the parking lots at Station Square, an old railroad station that had been converted into a bustling entertainment complex. Since it was nearly 11 a.m., tens of thousands of tailgaters had been partying on the North Shore for the better part of three hours. By the time the Steelers kicked off against the Cleveland Browns at 1 p.m., the local fans would be so rowdy that people could sit on their balconies and, based on the crowd noise alone, tell what was happening at the game over a mile away.
At least that’s what Payne had been told by his neighbours. The truth was he wasn’t willing to
Payne bought a box of pastries at the bakery. A couple of fruit Danish would hold him over until he dined on the elaborate spread at the stadium. The doughnuts and croissants would be given to Jones, who was meeting him at noon for the game, and his building’s security staff. Unlike most CEOs, Payne identified more with hardworking members of the rank and file than the white-collar types who ran corporate America. His grandfather had been the same way, starting off as a mill worker and slowly building a manufacturing empire. During his life, he had never lost track of his roots, and he made damn sure his grandson didn’t, either.
Despite the cold weather, Payne followed his weekend ritual and stopped on one of the
With no one around, Payne set his box of pastries on the ground, then fished through his pockets for some change. He found a quarter and slipped it into the coin-operated binoculars that were mounted nearby. As a youngster, he used to come here with his father, who taught him the history of the city by pointing out important landmarks through the viewfinder. The tradition had started a generation earlier when Grandpa Payne had taught Payne’s father the exact same lessons. Now, as a way of honouring them both, Payne stopped and remembered his past.
‘Hey,’ growled a voice from behind. ‘Show me your hands.’
Payne smiled, fully expecting to see one of his friends standing behind him. But when he turned round, all he saw was a silencer pointing at his chest.
