Frank expected to hear something along those lines. No sleep lost.
The lawn resounded with applause and a few cheers. Claney raised his hands, appealing for silence.
“Now that we’ve laid all the groundwork, all we need to do is to conduct the much desired talks with all the parties concerned. Understanding and agreement are our objectives. We will offer the migrant population an opportunity to be the first to take part in the Vaccination. Together, we can change the world. We can bring joy and prosperity to everyone!”
Behind Frank’s back, Barney chuckled.
The President nodded. “Thank you, Russell. I can’t agree more with you. I am amazed at how far Memoria has gone in its research. It is such a terrible shame that Ms. Baker is no longer with us, slain by an outcast. But her memory will always live on in our hearts. What a loss. The whole family seems to be hostages to ill fortune. Her father, as far as I remember, also died under suspicious circumstances.”
Just like Claney before him, the President pressed his right hand to his heart and lowered his head in an expression of his sorrow. Then he smiled and patted the Congressman’s shoulder. “But life must go on,” he said. “Russell Claney may be my Presidential adversary, but that’s because not many people know we’re big friends outside of politics. I admire his business sense and tenacity and would like to wish him luck in all his undertakings. See you all in New York.”
They shook hands, and the footage ended, replaced by the figure of the news anchor. He reminded his audience that the full report of the Vaccination project would be presented to the public the next day at Memoria’s HQ in the presence of the President. Then he moved to other stories.
Frank turned the sound down and walked away from the screen.
“Tomorrow,” the coach said staring in front of him. “It will all happen tomorrow. Then we could-” He stared at Barney in the doorway. “We need to get inside the HQ before the press conference starts and get hold of the data.”
“Still no reason to wake me up,” reminded Barney.
“Oh yeah,” Max removed his glasses and wiped his red eyes. “I need some information on one of your taxi drivers. I’ve got the plate number.”
“Piece of cake,” Barney said. “Give me the number.”
Frank grabbed the piece of paper, jotted down the car’s make and color, and passed it over to him. The coach opened his laptop. His fingers flitted over the keyboard.
Barney in the next room bellowed into the phone, “That son of a bitch cut me off on the Fifty-Ninth the other day. Exactly. Are you sure? All right, then.”
He popped his head into the room to tell them the news. Not only did the plates not match, but his company had only eight Fords which were all currently firmly stuck in major overhaul.
“Can I go to bed now?” he yawned.
“Please do,” Max turned to Frank. “Get some paper out. We need to mull over these facts for a bit. Let’s see where they take us.”
“And how about the news?”
“We’ve already heard whatever they had to say. First, they’re plugging this Vaccination thing in a bit of a hurry. Secondly, you’re the scape goat.”
Frank reached for the remote and was about to press the off button.
“Don’t,” said Max. “Put the sound down so it doesn’t distract us. Let’s do it.”
Fifteen minutes later, they had their first model. Someone had intended to intercept Frank on his way from the airport. They had sent a bogus taxi out for him. His allergy had saved his butt. They had killed Kathleen while he was being driven home, staging their date and removing her purse. Possibly, they had let the killer know that Frank was on his way and given the killer an order to smoke him, as well. But it hadn’t worked because of the media crowded in the hall, and Kathleen had been the one who’d called them. She must have intended to break some news to them. She’d also backed up whatever information she’d had onto the hard disk. Suspecting that they might be after her, she’d mailed the disk to Frank. The killers hadn’t learned about it early enough. Could Kathleen have tried to negotiate with them? What if she’d tried to blackmail them by threatening to go public with the information on the hard disk? Before leaving, the killer had removed her electronic bracelet and either destroyed it or placed it into an insulated container, preventing the police from detecting its signal.
It was also possible that the bracelet chip was hooked up to some access codes. It could have been Kathleen’s workstation, or it equally could have been some secret bank accounts. After all, the Bakers weren’t exactly poor. One of the world’s richest families, to be precise. Most importantly, the killer knew how to remove the electronic bracelet. Someone had to have trained him to do it. The removal technology was classified so all the technicians capable of doing it could easily be checked. But to check it, you had to contact Memoria’s research center whose staff were directly interested in doctoring the data.
When the killer had left Kathleen’s apartment with her purse, he hadn’t found the hard disk inside. What he had found was the post office receipt, and not straight away but after Frank’s arrest. Otherwise, what had been the point in risking their butts at the post office? This was the only explanation Frank and Max could come up with to explain away the assault on the post office a mere two hours after Frank’s escape from the police station.
“They basically followed in my wake,” Frank concluded staring at the notes.
The coach nodded.
“Yes, you…. or we, rather, were going head-to-head until now. But I’m afraid they’ll be gaining ground before long. Let’s assume that the data on the hard disk has something to do with this Vaccination thing. Then if it turned out to cause physical or mental damage, Gautier must have demanded they went public about it. And they refused her demand causing the DC talks to collapse.”
“Then what’s the point in going public about it tomorrow?” Frank threw the pen onto the desk. “All this media-summoning, migrant-cajoling presentation?”
“They need to remain one step ahead. To shut Gautier up and appease the public. They’re too scared that we can hack the files and they have no way of knowing if Kathleen told you why she’d copied them to begin with.” Max reached under Frank’s arm and pulled out a sheet where they’d listed all the events of the past few days.
“Look,” he took the pen and circled an item on the list. “You were taken to the station for questioning. Immediately they attacked it.”
“They must have thought,” Frank started, “that I knew what was going on. They thought I would testify against them.”
“Exactly. They also thought you had the hard disk. So they wanted to get rid of the eyewitness and remove the device.” He pulled the laptop closer and tapped “Memoria board of directors” into the search engine.
Frank exploded.
“So now I’m a terrorist acting on his own? It’s not what they said before! Can’t anyone see they’re lying? How could I trash the station on my own? Even a child can see that I couldn’t turn the city into a battlefield all alone. Besides, didn’t you just say that three hundred thousand migrants are a force to be reckoned with? All these war-mongering alerts of yours, and now you’re backpedalling?”
“Relax,” Max gave him a cold stare. “I may be mistaken. Kathleen’s killers could have another agenda for all that I know.”