The supervisor at the encryption facility — the name plaque on his office door read Charles Turner — was shaking his head as he pored over the court papers he'd been issued.
'I must tell you, this is rather atypical,' he said, glancing up at the two detectives standing before his desk.
'How so, sir? I checked the subpoenas myself to make sure they crossed all the t's.'
'No, please, don't misunderstand me,' Turner said. 'The papers are fine. But normally I get advance notification from the officers coming for the codes. They're stored on compact disc in our vaults, you understand, and there's a rather stringent checkout process. Going through it at the last minute, well, I'll have to drop everything, Detective Lombardi…'
'We're really sorry for the inconvenience,' the man standing in front of him said. 'But this is our first time dealing with a matter of this type as officers.'
Turner sighed and rose from his desk, looking annoyed and somewhat flustered.
'You may accompany me to the data-storage wing, though only authorized personnel are allowed in the vaults. You'll have to stay out in one of the waiting areas while I track the disk you want.'
'Will it take very long?'
'It shouldn't,' Turner said. 'The corporation whose key-codes are being requested isn't one I recognize offhand, but the disks are catalogued on our electronic database. I can rush everything through in half an hour, maybe a little faster.'
'That'd be fine with us.'
Turner harrumphed, and came around the desk toward the door.
'Lead the way, sir,' the detective said, falling in behind him.
The men had left Penang State, southeast of the Malaysia-Thailand border, shortly after they'd received the call from Luan. That had been some hours ago, at dawn, and they'd been driving their van down the main coastal highways to Selangor ever since. The trip would have been lengthy under the best of traffic conditions, but there were herds of beachgoing tourists jamming the roads near the bridge and ferry terminals to Georgetown, and the delays had stretched miserably in the hot, beating sun. The men in the van had, furthermore, wanted to keep a moderate speed so as not to risk being pulled over by police. The kris tattoos on their hands would bring about an instant search, and once that happened their problems only would be starting. If the police found their weapons, they could look forward to many hours of painful interrogation, followed by many years of being locked away in prison holes. And that would be a far cry from the reward they were expecting for the successful completion of their task.
The Thai had promised them a fortune.
A fortune in greenbacks for capturing a woman and delivering her to him in Kalimantan.
They had joked crudely about her physical attributes when they received the call. And in spite of their grindingly slow progress, it would not be long before they saw the object of Luan's desire for themselves. They were already better than halfway down through Perak, and would be crossing into Selangor within a couple of hours.
With luck, Kirsten Chu would be at the address they had been given. And if not, they would gladly wait there for her to arrive.
She was, after all, one woman who was very much worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
'Is there some kind of problem, Mr. Turner?' the man calling himself Lombardi asked from where he sat in the waiting area.
Holding the court papers, a puzzled expression on his face, Turner glanced at him as he returned through a doorway he'd entered just moments ago.
'The name of the corporation simply doesn't show on our database,' he said, approaching his chair. 'I don't know what to make of it.'
Lombardi rose and sidled up to him, studying the papers over his shoulder.
'I'm no expert at this high-tech stuff, but could be it's just misspelled,' he said.
Turner shook his head. ' The computers will essentially correct for that sort of error by searching for approximate matches. In this case, nothing came up.'
Lombardi grinned.
'Then I guess those papers are fake and the company doesn't exist,' he said.
Turner looked at him. 'I don't understand…'
Lombardi reached under his jacket and drew the Beretta he'd taken from one of the murdered security guards.
'Oh, I think you do,' he said, and rammed the handle of the weapon upward into Turner's nose, shattering his septum and sending tiny slivers of bone into his brain. Turner dropped instantly to the floor, his eyes rolling up in their sockets, dark blood spouting from his nostrils. He spasmed twice, emitted a labored gurgling sound, and died.
Lombardi gestured to the other man as he got up off his seat. Then both went around the body and passed through the entry to the vault area.
A short while before the ringing of the doorbell startled her into alertness, Kirsten had slipped into a doze on the sofa, a kind of syrupy exhaustion having settled over her in the late morning, and stayed with her as she'd done some routine chores — washing the breakfast dishes, straightening up the living room, and gathering the kids' toys from around the apartment and garden and hauling them back into their bedroom closet.
Afterward, sitting down to listen to some light jazz on the stereo, hoping it would calm her mind, she had been surprised at how fast her eyelids had started getting heavy, and thought it quite incredible that she could be simultaneously clipping along full-steam on nervous energy and feeling so mentally fatigued that her brain almost seemed immersed in a pool of thick, lukewarm glue. It was a little like the way she'd felt as a university student studying for final exams, living for days and nights on coffee and chocolate.. only many times more intense.
And now the sound of the buzzer had practically sent her bouncing off the couch, still half out of it, yet conscious of her nerves revving up to speed again.
She glanced at the clock on the wall opposite her. Could Nimec have arrived already? Under average circumstances it would have been highly unlikely he could have made it in so short a time… but he'd explained that he would be returning to the UpLink ground station in Johor, and would probably travel from there into KL by helicopter. Which had also told her a couple of things about him beyond the obvious fact that he was in a hurry. One, he was at least as concerned about Max as she was. And two, he had the sort of clout with Max's boss to pull some major strings, maybe even worked for UpLink himself—
Bzzzzzzzzz!
She crossed the room to the door, straightening her blouse, smoothing her skirt down with her hands. Whoever was out there was really leaning on the bell.
'Yes?' she said, reaching for the doorknob. 'Who is it?'
'Johor police,' a man said from outside. He was speaking Bahasa. 'We want to see Kirsten Chu.'
'Excuse me?' she replied in the same language. The blunt, gruff quality of his voice had surprised her as much as his response.
'It's about her call,' he said. 'We need to ask her some questions.'
Kirsten didn't move, hardly even breathed. She was still holding the knob, her fingers suddenly sweating around it.
The Singapore cop with whom she'd spoken had said the Johor authorities would be in touch.. but she hadn't expected them to just show up at the door. Wouldn't they want to phone and make an appointment, if for no other reason than to spare themselves a needless trip in case she wasn't home?
And does he really sound like a police officer? she thought.
