Kay Scarpet - Cruel And Unusual Part 15

"Yes. Iam saying I could tell if his records were changed."

Marinoas jaw muscles flexed. "Seems to me if someone was slick enough to do it, theyad be slick enough to make sure some computer nerd didnat catch on."

"Iam not a computer nerd. Iam not a nerd of any description."

They fell silent, parked on either end of the hearth like mismatched bookends.

"You canat go into AFIS," I said to Lucy.

She looked impa.s.sively at me.

"Not alone," I added. "Not unless there is a safe way to grant you access. And even if there is, I think Iad rather you stay out of it."

"I donat think youad really rather that. If something was tampered with, you know Iad find out, Aunt Kay."

"The kidas got a G.o.d complex."

Marino got up from the hearth.

Lucy said to him, "Could you hit the twelve on the clock over there on the wall? If you drew your gun right this minute and took aim?"

"I ainat interested in shooting up your auntas house in order to prove something to you."

"Could you hit the twelve from where youare standing?"

"Youare d.a.m.n right."

"Youare positive."

"Yeah, Iam positive."

"The lieutenantas got a G.o.d complex," Lucy said to me.

Marino turned to the fire, but not before I caught a flicker of a smile.

"All Neils Vander has is a workstation and printer," Lucy said. "Heas connected to the State Police computer by modem. Has that always been the case?"

"No," I replied. "Before he moved into the new building, there was much more equipment involved."

"Describe it."

"Well, there were several different components. But the actual computer was much like the one Margaret has in her office."

Realizing Lucy had not been inside Margaretas office, I added, "A mini."

Firelight cast moving shadows on her face. "Iall bet JON is a mainframe that isnat a mainframe. Iall bet itas a series of minis strung together all of it connected by UNIX or some other multiuser, mult.i.tasking environment. If you got me access to the system, I could probably do it from your terminal here in the house, Aunt Kay."

"I donat want anything traced back to me," I said with feeling.

"Nothing would be traced back to you. I would dial into your computer downtown, then go through a series of gateways, set up a really complicated link. By the time all was said and done, Iad be very hard to track."

Marino headed to the bathroom.

"He acts like he lives here," Lucy said.

"Not quite," I replied.

Several minutes later, I walked Marino out. The crusty snow of the lawn seemed to radiate light, and the air was sharp in my lungs like the first hit of a menthol cigarette.

"Iad love it if you would join Lucy and me for Christmas dinner," I said from the doorway.

He hesitated, looking at his car parked on the street. "Thatas mighty nice of you, but I canat make it, Doc."

"I wish you did not dislike Lucy so much,a I said, hurt.

"Iam tired of her treating me like a dumb s.h.i.+t who was born in a barn."

"Sometimes you act like a dumb s.h.i.+t who was born in a barn. And you havenat tried very hard to earn her respect."

"Sheas a spoiled Miami brat."

"When she was ten, she was a Miami brat," I said. "But sheas never been spoiled. In fact, quite the opposite is true. I want you two to get along. I want that for my Christmas present."

"Who said I was giving you a Christmas present?"

"Of course you are. Youare going to give me what Iave just requested. And I know exactly how to make it happen."

"How?" he asked suspiciously.

"Lucy wants to learn to shoot and you just told her you could shoot the twelve off a dock. You could give her a lesson or two."

"Forget it" he said.

6.

The next three days were typical for the holiday season. No one was in or returning telephone calls. Parking lots had s.p.a.ces to spare, lunch hours were long, and office errands involved clandestine stops at stores, the bank, and the post office. For all practical purposes, the Commonwealth had shutdown before the official holiday began. But Neils Vander was not typical by any standard. He was oblivious to time and place when he called me Christmas Eve morning.

"Iam getting started on an image enhancement over here that I think you might be interested in," he said. "The Jennifer Deighton case."

"Iam on my way," I said.

Heading down the hallway, I almost ran into Ben Stevens as he emerged from the menas room.

"I have a meeting with Vander" I said."

I shouldnat be long, and Iave got my paper."

"I was just coming to see you," he said.

Reluctantly, I paused to hear what he had on his mind. I wondered if he detected that it was a struggle for me to act relaxed around him. Lucy continued to monitor our computer from my terminal at home to see if anyone attempted to access my directory again. So far, no one had.

"I had a talk with Susan this morning," Stevens said.

"How is she?"

"Sheas not coming back to work, Dr. Scarpetta."

I was not surprised, but I was stung that she could not tell me this herself. By now I had tried at least half a dozen times to get hold of her, and either no one answered or, her husband did and offered some excuse for why Susan couldnat come to the phone.

"Thatas it?" I asked him. "Sheas simply not coming back? Did she give a reason?"

"I think sheas having a tougher time with the pregnancy than she thought. I guess the jobas just too much right now."

"Sheall need to send a letter of resignation," I said, unable to keep the anger from my voice. "And Iall leave it to you to work out the details with Personnel. Weall need to begin looking for a replacement immediately."

"Thereas a hiring freeze," he reminded me as I walked off.

Outside, snow plowed along roadsides had frozen into mounds of filthy ice impossible to park on or walk across, and the sun burned wanly through portentous clouds. A streetcar carried a small bra.s.s band past, andI climbed granite steps gritty with salt as "Joy to the World" moved on. A Forensics police officer let me inside the Seaboard Building, and upstairs I found Vander inside a room bright with color monitors and ultraviolet lights. Seated at the image enhanceras workstation, he was staring intensely at something on the screen as he manipulated a mouse.

"Itas not blank," he announced without so much as a "how are you."

"Someone wrote something on a piece of paper that was on top of this one, or close to on top of this one. If you look hard, you can barely make out impressions."

Then I began to understand. Centered on the light table to his left was a clean sheet of white paper, and I leaned closer to take a look. The impressions were so faint that I wasnat sure if I was imagining them.

"The sheet of paper found under the crystal on Jennifer Deightonas bed?"

I asked, getting excited.

He nodded, moving the mouse some more, adjusting the gray tones.

"Is this live?"

"No. The video cameraas already captured the impressions and theyare saved on the hard disk. But donat touch the paper. I havenat processed it for prints yet. Im just getting started, keep your fingers crossed. Come on, come on." He was talking to the enhancer now. "I know the camera saw it fine. You gotta help us out here."

Computerized methods of image enhancement are a lesson in contrasts and conundrums. A camera can differentiate more than two hundred shades of gray, the human eye less than forty. Just because something isnat there doesnat mean it isnat there.

"Thank G.o.d with paper you donat have to worry about background noise," Vander went on as he worked. "Speeds things up considerably when you donat have to worry about that. Had a time of it the other day with a b.l.o.o.d.y print left on a bed sheet. The weave of the fabric, you know. Not so long ago the print would have been worthless. Okay."

Another tint of gray washed over the area he was working on. "Now weare getting somewhere. You see it?"

He pointed at slender, ghostly shapes on the upper half of the screen.

"Barely."

"What weare trying to enhance here is shadow versus eradicated writing, because nothing was written and erased here. The shadow was produced when oblique light hit the flat surface of this paper and the indentations in it-at least the video camera perceived shadow loud and clear. You and I canat see it without help. Letas try a little more enhancement of the verticals."

He moved the mouse. "Darken the horizontals just a tad. Good. Itas coming. Two-oh-two, dash. Weave got part of a phone number."

I pulled a chair close to him and sat down. "The area code for D.C.," I said.

"Iam making out a four and a three. Or is that an eight?"

I squinted. "I think itas a three."

"Thatas better. Youare right. Definitely a three."

He continued to work for a while and more numbers and words became visible on the screen. Then he sighed and said, "Rats. I canat get the last digit. Itas just not there, but look at this before the D.C. area code. aToa followed by a colon. And right under it is afroma followed by another colon and another number. Eight-oh-four. Thatas local. This numberas very unclear. A five and maybe a seven, or is that a nine?"

"I think thatas going to be Jennifer Deightonas number, "I said. "Her fax machine and telephone are on the same line - she had a fax machine in her office, a single sheet feed that uses ordinary typing paper. It appears she wrote out a fax on top of this sheet of paper. What did she send? A separate doc.u.ment? Thereas no message here."

"Weare not finished yet. Weare getting what looks like the date now. An eleven? No, thatas a seven. December seventeenth. Iam going to move down."

He moved the mouse and the arrows slid down the screen. Hitting a key, he enlarged the area he wanted to work on, then began painting it with shades of gray. I sat very still while shapes began to slowly materialize out of a literary limbo, curves here, dots there, and tas boldly crossed. Vander worked silently. We barely blinked or breathed. We sat like this for an hour, words gradually getting sharper, one shade of gray contrasting with another, molecule by molecule, bit by bit. He willed them, coaxed them into existence. It was incredible. It was all there.

Exactly one week ago, barely two days before her murder, Jennifer Deighton had faxed the following message to a number in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.: Yes, Iall cooperate, but itas too late, too late, too late. Better you should come here. This is all so wrong!

When I finally looked up from the screen as Vander hit the print b.u.t.ton, I was light-headed. My vision was temporarily blurred, adrenaline surging.

"Marino needs to see this immediately. Hopefully, we can figure out whose fax number this is, the Was.h.i.+ngton number. Weave got all but the last digit. How many fax numbers can there be in Was.h.i.+ngton that are exactly like this except for the last digit?"

"Digits zero through nine."

Vander raised his voice above the printeras rat-a-tat-tat. "At the most, there could be only ten. Ten numbers, fax or otherwise, exactly like this one except for the last digit" He gave me a printout. "Iall dean it up some more and get you a beer copy later," he said. "And thereas one more thing. Iam not having any luck getting my hands on Ronnie Waddellas print, the photo of the b.l.o.o.d.y thumbprint recovered from Robyn Naismithas house. Every time I call Archives, Iam told theyare still looking for his file."

"Remember what time of year it is. Iall bet thereas hardly anybody there," I said, unable to dispel a sense of foreboding.

Back in my office, I got hold of Marino and explained what the image enhancer had discovered.

"h.e.l.l, you can forget the phone company," he said. "My contact thereas already left for the vacation, and n.o.body else is going to do s.h.i.+t on Christmas Eve."

"Thereas a chance we can figure out who she sent the fax to on our own," I said.

"I donat know how, short of sending a fax that reads aWho are you?a and then hoping you get a fax back that reads aHi, Iam Jennifer Deightonas killer.a"

"It depends on if be person has a label programmed into his fax machine," I said.

"A label?"

"Your more sophisticated fax machines allow you to program your name or company name into the system. This label will be printed on anything you fax to someone else. But whatas more significant is that the label of the person receiving the fax will also appear in the character display window of the machine sending the fax. In other words, if I send a fax to you, in the character display of my fax machine Iall see aRichmond Police Departmenta right above the fax number Iave just dialed."

"You got access to a fancy fax machine? The one we got in the squad room sucks."