“Lien-hua, what’s your take on this?” asked Ralph. “What struck you when you saw the video?”
“Everything is specific: the camera angles, the timing of the shots, the tank. It all plays into his fantasy. The camera doesn’t shake.
There’s no hesitation. He’s done this before. Cassandra isn’t his first.” This was her turf. Profiling. And even though I didn’t want to admit it, her observations seemed to be right on target.
“All right,” said Ralph. “Before we go any further, I’ll call the police department, see what kind of help they can give us. Maybe Lieutenant Graysmith’s attitude will change when he sees this video.
Also, I need to call FBI Director Rodale back and brief him. We meet back here in five minutes.” I was glad Ralph was here to take the reins, that way I could focus more on the case than coordinating a team.
While he made his calls, I stepped out of the room to grab a drink from the water fountain at the end of the hall, the words paralyzed prey ringing in my head once again.
Shade phoned Melice and had started to give him instructions when a woman’s voice said, “Who is this?”
End call.
It was Shade’s first mistake.
And Shade vowed it would be the last.
So Melice had given the phone away, or lost it. That did not make Shade happy. No, everything lay in too delicate a balance to be making foolish mistakes.
Perhaps track down and then eliminate the woman? Yes. That could be done easily enough.
But on the other hand, it would be better to stick to the plan for the time being. Only move on her if necessary.
No, Shade hadn’t said enough to her to cause suspicion. Not nearly enough.
Shade tapped a cell phone key, and a photo, sent from a friend, filled the screen. Shade stared at the twenty-two-year-old woman standing at a funeral, her grief captured in digital clarity.
Dark glasses. Black hair.
Lien-hua Jiang.
Long before she became a special agent. Even before she was a detective. The tears on her cheeks, frozen in time.
This was the key, the reason for everything that was about to happen.
Shade would find another way to be in touch with Melice. Until then, it was just a matter of watching and waiting and staying focused.
Without making any more careless mistakes.
After Ralph had made the calls and we were all back in the room he said, “All right. This has officially shifted from a missing person investigation to a kidnapping. It’s related to the arson investigation, though. I explained to Rodale that you two know more about what’s going on here than anyone, and that we need your help to find Ms.
Lillo. He gave you the green light to stay involved. So, let’s do this and let’s do it right.”
“Good,” I said, glad to be officially on the case.
“OK. Let’s watch it again,” said Lien-hua.
“This time,” I said, “let’s be specific. Ralph, watch for images on the glass. Earlier when we watched it, I saw a glint. Maybe you can see something in the foreground, a reflection of the cameraman.”
He nodded, his jaw set.
“Lien-hua, concentrate on Cassandra: the way she’s blinking; could it be Morse code? Is she mouthing anything? Her hands-is she signaling in some way? Look for any indication that she’s trying to get us a message.”
She nodded, positioned her legal pad in front of her, and slid a pen into her hand.
“I’ll focus on the chain and the pipe and the message on the wall,” I said.
Then, I began to play the video once again.
Inside the office of the warehouse, Creighton Melice checked his watch. Shade was supposed to have contacted him fifteen minutes ago, at 3:00 p.m., but he hadn’t heard from him at all since the call last night directing him to pick up Cassandra. Of course Creighton didn’t have his phone, but he did have email and Shade had often used that before. Creighton didn’t like it when things did not go according to schedule.
He glanced at the live video feed of the tank.
The water was up to Cassandra’s waist now. She couldn’t sit down to rest any longer. So it looked like it would be a long afternoon for her. He would have preferred filming all of this in real-time web streaming, but Shade had insisted that it would be too easy to track the location if they posted it on the web.
Possibly.
Probably.
As annoying as he was, Shade did tend to be right.
But still, it would have made for a satisfying day.
He watched her press her hands uselessly against the glass. Yes.
He would use the tank one last time with the woman Shade had promised him, and then everything would come to a glorious finish.
She took a breath, bent into the water, and tugged at the chain with both hands.
Let her tug.
The others had tried that as well. That chain was not going to break.
41
3:18 p.m.
4 hours 42 minutes until Cassandra’s deadline After twenty-five minutes of reviewing the video, we’d come up with only four observations that seemed potentially helpful.
Ralph noticed that the video had been edited in several places-right after the close-up of the shackle around Cassandra’s ankle, and then ten seconds from the end when the handwritten words appeared, just before panning back to the final image of her sitting in the water. “This creep took his time to shoot it, edit it, splice it,” he said.
“He’s patient,” Lien-hua said, echoing my thoughts. “Self-con-trolled. Back when I was a detective in DC, I worked a similar case of a man who filmed his murders. The care that killers like this take in making their videos speaks to the seriousness of their intentions.
Our man doesn’t just want to blackmail Hunter, he also wants to kill Cassandra. And he’s going to do it.”
During our third viewing, I saw that Cassandra’s body cast a faint shadow across the water to her right. The shadow’s size shifted after each of the videos edits, which led me to surmise that the light source was natural rather than artificial, and the change in the length of the shadow marked a change in time as the sun rose higher in the sky.
“Terry told me the video was sent to Austin Hunter at 8:51 a.m.,”
I said. “Taking into account Cassandra’s height and her shadows in relationship to the sun’s position in the sky-”
“We’re not looking at a garage,” said Ralph.
“No,” I said. “The light source at the filming site would need to be higher. Windows on the second or third story. So, she’s probably in a warehouse.” Ralph called the SDPD to have them start canvassing the warehouse districts of the city, but I knew there wouldn’t be enough time to check them all.
Beyond that, we didn’t have much to go on.
FBI Director Rodale notified Ralph that he was personally reassigning seven agents from the field office to help us find Cassandra, as long as we kept Lieutenant Graysmith in the loop.
Ralph agreed and we adjourned for fifteen minutes so he could coordinate the efforts of the FBI with the San Diego Police Department. Lien-hua went to a quiet room to work on developing her profile of the abductor, and I headed for the door to get some fresh air and call Tessa to see how she was doing.
42
Tessa was in one of San Diego’s downtown Internet cafes, surfing the web and thinking about the kind of tattoo she wanted to get, when Patrick called. “Hey, Tessa, how are you?”
“Good.” She shifted the phone to her shoulder so she could keep typing and clicking through websites.
“What’re you doing?”
“Just checking my email.”
“Are you at the hotel?”
“Naw. I’m at this Internet place nearby. You’d like it. They have all this weird-sounding coffee from Central America.” Tessa was glad to see that the cafe also had printers. That way she could print out exactly what she wanted.