'Which one is Dennis?'
She pointed to a boy sitting in the front row. He had a Prince Valiant cut and a face-splitting smile that never quite hit his eyes. 'Can I have this?'
'If you think it will help.'
'It might.'
She nodded. 'I better get back to my students.'
'Thank you.'
'Do you remember your preschool, Mr. Bolitar?'
Myron nodded. 'Parkview Nursery School in Livingston, New Jersey.'
'How about your teachers? Do you remember them at all?'
Myron thought about it. 'No.'
She nodded as though he'd answered correctly. 'Good luck,' she said.
Chapter 23
AgeComp. Or age-progression software, if you prefer. Myron had learned a bit about it when searching for a missing woman named Lucy Mayor. The key was in the digital imaging. All Myron had to do — or in the case of their office, all Esperanza had to do — was take the class photograph and scan it into the computer. Then, using common software programs like Photoshop or Picture Publisher, you blow up the face of young Dennis Lex. AgeComp, a software program constantly being retooled and perfected by missing-children organizations, does the rest. Using advanced mathematical algorithms, AgeComp stretches, merges, and blends digital photographs of missing children and produces a color image of what they might look like today.
Naturally, a lot is left to chance. Scarring, facial fractures, facial hair, cosmetic surgery, hairstyle or, in the case of some of the older ones, male pattern baldness. Still, the class photo could be a serious lead.
When he was back in Manhattan, the cell phone rang.
'I spoke to the feds,' Win said.
'And?'
'Your impression is correct.'
'What impression?'
'They are indeed frightened.'
'Did you speak to PT?'
'I did. He put me onto the right person. They requested a face-to-face.'
'When?'
'Pretty pronto. We are, in fact, waiting in your office.'
'The feds are in my office right now?'
'Affirmative.'
'Be there in five.'
More like ten. When the elevator opened, Esperanza was sitting at Big Cyndi's desk.
'How many?' he asked.
'Three,' Esperanza said. 'One blond woman, one extra-strength dork, one nice suit.'
'Win's with them?'
'Yep.'
He handed her the photograph and pointed to Dennis Lex's face. 'How long before we could get an age progression on this?'
'Jesus, when was this taken?'
'Thirty years ago.'
Esperanza frowned. 'You know anything about age progression?'
'Some.'
'It's mostly used to find missing kids,' she said. 'And it's usually used to age them five, maybe ten years.'
'But we can get something, right?'
'Something very rough, yeah maybe.' She flicked on the scanner and placed the photo facedown. 'If they're in the lab, we'll probably have it by the end of the day. I'll crop it and e-mail it over.'
'Do it later,' he said, gesturing toward the door. 'Mustn't keep the feds waiting. Our tax dollars and all that.'
'You want me in there?'
'You're a part of everything that goes on here, Esperanza. Of course I want you in there.'
'I see,' she said. Then: 'Is this the part where I blink back tears because you're making me feel oh-so- special?'
Wiseass.
Myron opened his office door. Esperanza followed. Win sat behind Myron's desk, probably so that none of the feds would. Win could be territorial — just one of the ways he was like a Doberman. Kimberly Green and Rick Peck rose with lack-of-sleep-luggage eyes and squared-off smiles. The third fed stayed in his seat, not moving, not even turning to see who'd entered. Myron saw his face and felt a jolt.
Whoa.
Win watched Myron, an amused smile curling the ends of his mouth. Eric Ford, deputy director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, was the man in the suit. His presence meant one thing: This was serious big-time.
Kimberly Green pointed at Esperanza. 'What's she doing in here?'
'She's my partner,' Myron said. 'And it's not polite to point.'
'Your partner? You think this is a business transaction?'
'She stays,' Myron said.
'No,' Kimberly Green said. She was still wearing the ball-and-chain earrings, still the jeans and black turtleneck, but the jacket now was spearmint green. 'We're not exactly thrilled talking to you and Cheekbones boy over there' — she gestured toward Win— 'but at least you have some clearance. We don't know her. She goes.'
Win's smile spread and his eyebrows did a quick up-and-down. Cheekbones. He liked that.
'She goes,' Green said again.
Esperanza shrugged. 'No biggie,' she said.
Myron was about to say something, but Win shook his head. He was right. Save it for the important battles.
Esperanza left. Win got up and gave Myron the chair. He stood on Myron's right, arms crossed, totally at ease. Green and Peck fidgeted. Myron turned to Eric Ford. 'I don't think we've met.'
'But you know who I am,' Ford said. He had one of those smooth soft-rock-DJ voices.
'Yes.'
'And I know who you are,' he said. 'So what would be the point?'
Ford nodded at Kimberly Green. She cleared her throat. 'For the record,' she said, 'we don't think we should have to go through this.'
'Through what?'
'Telling you about our investigation. Debriefing you. As a good citizen, you should be willing to cooperate with our investigation because it's the right thing to do.'
Myron looked at Win and said, 'Oh boy.'
'Some aspects of an investigation need to be contained,' she continued. 'You and Mr. Lockwood should understand that better than most. You should be anxious to cooperate with any federal investigation. You should respect what we're trying to do here.'
'Right, okay, we respect. Can we skip ahead, please? You looked us up. You know we'll keep our mouths shut. Otherwise none of us would be here.'
