Vigilante Investigator Series Box Set

by Eden Sharp

  I counted out the rest. It came to a total of six hundred and thirty eight bucks.

  'I'm going to make a donation on your behalf to a local outreach project,' I said. 'Help some people get off the streets.'

  I found his cell phone and put it in my pocket then used his shirt to wipe his wallet and belt down while ignoring a vile stream of abuse. I went over and did the same with the cuffs and closet door handle then I threw the keys for the cuffs on the bed.

  'Thanks for the drink, Glen. For a first date, I had a really fun evening.'

  FORTY-EIGHT

  I waited for Sin Nombre's cab driver to disappear out of sight then jogged back to my building. Once inside I put on a pot of coffee, changed my clothes, and got comfortable. I ran through my theory a couple of times from different angles and dialed Stuart Kerpen. I hoped he might be awake.

  'What's going on Angela?' Kerpen said.

  'Did I wake you?'

  'Kind of. Don't you ever sleep?'

  'I'm a night person. Listen. I think you need to be careful.'

  'Why's that?'

  'The guy in the photograph. Pulido. Did you know he's an informant for the unit?'

  'No.'

  Time to hit him with the crazy. Run my theory past him and see if anything stuck.

  'I think he took Amber believing she was Jaime Secora as a way to get to her mother, Lynett. I think Ortiz and Aaron used him to do it, to find a way in.'

  'Married couples can't testify against one another in California.'

  'No, but as his wife she probably knows things or has access to valuable information she'd be willing to give up under duress. Also, it always bothered me how Pulido was able to find Amber. But she had Jaime's phone. I think they tracked her with GPS. Also, I think they may have invited you into the unit to keep you close after you tried to access the file for me.'

  There was silence on Kerpen's end. I'd expected more resistance to my theory.

  'Stuart?'

  'I got put with the new guy, Barstow. He's not a happy camper. Like he's seriously stressed and doesn't know what to do. I was asking a lot of questions about Ortiz and the set up there. It really unnerved him. Ortiz treats him like shit. I think having someone in from the outside convinced him to open up. We were in a bar drinking tonight. He got wasted. Told me he has some concerns about what's going on.'

  'Like what?'

  'Lots of things are off. They were surveilling a deal, watching ten kilos of coke after a drop. Ortiz and Aaron didn't wait for a warrant. They may have tampered with the dope. Secora's known for high quality. When it was tested it turned out to be half as pure as the buyer expected. As everybody expected. Gave them an opportunity to flip one of Secora's associates. Now they're talking about setting up a sting with another ten kilos but they don't have anything like that amount to take out of evidence.'

  'So they could have cut it.'

  'They had around six hours alone with it but there's no proof. Then they promised to protect the guy they flipped but they just abandoned him. Plus there's money that's unaccounted for, plans that change all the time and no one seems to challenge Ortiz as to what's going on because he's got a big rep and free rein because of the results he gets.'

  'The guy they flipped, was his name Lewan?'

  'Yeah.'

  'I think he may be out of the picture.'

  'How do you know that?'

  'Never mind. What have you learned about Ortiz?'

  'That he's got a real hard on for getting Secora and he doesn't seem to care how he does it. But you know? I don't know.'

  'What's your impression of the rest of the team?'

  'There's a guy who's about to retire doesn't seem to give a shit what goes on.'

  'Too much to lose.'

  'Then there's the old guy's partner, so he may or may not be involved. There's a younger guy, Jordan, I don't really like. A biker. Bit of a lone wolf type. But he seems tight with Ortiz.'

  'He have long hair?'

  'Yeah.'

  'I think he followed me. Watch out for him.'

  'There's also an undercover working for Secora. But I've never met him.'

  Now that was interesting.

  'They've got someone on the inside? Can you find out what he looks like?'

  'That kind of information is not something I'd ever get access to. There's also something about a new girl in town ODing in a crack house. I'll find out more tomorrow.'

  'That might be something. If I'm right though you think Barstow would go up against them?'

  'No way. Not without something solid. He'd be kissing his ass goodbye.'

  'You need to counsel him and try and convince him. Meanwhile here's your chance to do a little investigative work of your own from the inside. Pretend I'm right then find out what you can. See what adds up.'

  'Great. If I make inspector I'll be assigned to IA and hated by everyone. I may as well come out.'

  'I'm sorry I got you into this Stuart.'

  'Yeah.'

  FORTY-NINE

  I was desperate to crawl into bed. But if I was right, going up against Ortiz was in a whole different league to busting Pulido. Chances were he was just a pawn who was set up to take the fall. Ortiz had all the power. All the guys with the guns. Possibly the protection of high up city brass.

  Now I was pissed. Young girls didn't deserve to die as collateral in some kind of career move. I took out Glen Secora's phone and ran through his contacts. I couldn't find Ortiz or anything that could possibly relate to him. So I scrolled through my own phone for Kerpen's text and opened it up. I memorized the last three digits and rechecked Glen Secora's contact list until I found it. I smiled at the name he'd assigned to it. Adam Henry. It was cop slang for asshole.

  Two hours later I had things set up. I tapped out a one-word text. Hello? And sent it to Ortiz. It didn't mean anything. It didn't require a response though it might elicit something. I didn't really care. It was going to allow me to change the control settings of Ortiz's phone without leaving behind any trace of what had happened.

  First it would invoke his internet browser to open and connect to a website I had created. Once connected it would download and secretly install an application that could retrieve data via a nice little piece of spyware with the ability to record calls. All possible because of a zero-day vulnerability, an exploit not yet known by manufacturers and anti-virus companies.

  The spyware would also intercept texts and emails. I could have pushed a wipe command and removed all of the stored information contained on his phone or even gone further and pushed it to his contact list and wiped the devices of everyone he connected with. Instead I had pushed a retrieval command. I now had access to all of his contacts, including Pulido. Also, all his future communications would now be relayed and stored to an archive on my site.

  The traditional focus had been on computer security. But even with more people becoming educated about their cell phone’s vulnerability, most were unaware that texts could no longer be considered safe.

  I made myself coffee and waited for the results. Seventeen minutes later I had Pulido's cell number from the contact list downloaded to my site. Now there were other options aside from a lot of legwork around checking out the relatives. A criss-cross directory only worked for landlines not cell phone numbers. What was possible with a number and a powered-up cell however was GPS.

  People believed the only way to track someone using this method was to personally install the application on their phone with consent. In reality, proprietary software existed which meant anyone could install an app secretly without it showing up on a target device by using an app hider program. Not only would this make the icon disappear but it also avoided detection by disguising battery usage, only using available power at optimum down times.

  The problem for most people who wanted to employ this illegal approach was they had to have physical access to the phone and install the app when the user was sleeping or if they left it lying around somewhere.
r />   I attached my own version of a tracking app to a text similar to the one I had sent to Ortiz. One that wouldn't raise any suspicion. I also included another piece of spyware favored by burglars and sent it to Pulido's cell.

  RoomRaid used a phone's camera and other sensors to construct three dimensional models of indoor environments. Silently taking photographs while recording time and location, it would send these back to an attacker's machine to reconstruct the target rooms into a 3D map. In this way any property could be explored remotely. Burglars loved it because it invariably captured data on calendars, private details on computer screens, and financial information, as well as physical objects of value.

  The absolute best thing about it for my purposes was not so much the layout of wherever it was Pulido was residing, but that the location information recorded would be provided back to me as geographical coordinates.

  Three hours after getting into bed my cell rang. It was Kerpen waking me up.

  'Sorry to have to tell you this but I just found out your missing girl showed up late Thursday night. Been dead maybe a month.'

  'Where?'

  'Near the Alemany Projects. She'd been moved.'

  'So she wasn't found at the location where she died?'

  'Could have been. She'd been moved as in dug up.'

  Shit.

  'How did she die?'

  'Too early to say.'

  'You talking to your new friend and seeing what you can find out?'

  'I'll keep digging.'

  'Not funny.'

  'Wasn't meant to be. The dudes that were meant to have dumped her are called Tyler Buckner and Carlito Fernandes.'

  'Okay, thanks.'

  This raised all kinds of questions. Was Kerpen being used to send me a message? Why would Amber's body have been moved? I now had the dilemma of whether or not to inform her father who may or may not know already. Had Ortiz set this as a test to see what leaked from the department? It was a dilemma between my duty to report what I had found versus possibly endangering a cop or at the very least cutting off a valuable source of inside information and the chance to gain some proof of corruption and foul play. I was less than happy to be conflicted in this way. The biggest question however, was had she been moved in order to be found and conveniently dead-end my investigation?

  FIFTY

  John Knox

  Knox woke up minus a hangover but alone and thought about McGlynn and her outlook on life. Even though he couldn't get a handle on her she was always interesting to be around, he gave her that. And he was having the best sex he'd ever had. He just wasn't as happy about it as he should have been. He considered whether he should call her or wait for her to call. His stomach rumbled. He decided to just get out of the apartment and see if the outside world could alter his mood.

  He walked a block down the street to the American Grill, a reasonably priced sit-down joint, with a simple, straightforward menu. Even though they offered fig syrup as opposed to maple for the pancakes it was straightforward for a city that liked to wait in line for places that brewed coffee hand-picked by Tibetan monks. Most everywhere else offered the same breakfast items, but everything was good and served by friendly staff.

  The place was busy so the wait time wasn't great. He had already made his choice off the specials menu but occupied himself by checking out what other people had ordered. The waitress appeared at the next table to deliver an egg sandwich that appeared to have green salad inside which didn't make any sense to him at all. He caught her eye and asked for the scramble with chorizo and a side of hash-browns and biscuits. The do-it-yourself Bloody Mary bar was tempting but he ordered coffee instead.

  He ate everything in around eight minutes. It was hot and good but the coffee was awful so he took out his wallet and counted out the payment for the check all the while debating whether to get a takeout cup for the apartment from a better place on the corner.

  He was aware of someone arriving at the table and looked up.

  Ortiz.

  'You wanna take a walk?' he said.

  Knox stood up and followed him outside.

  He decided to head for the good coffee place and away from his apartment on instinct. Not that his address would be an unknown.

  Ortiz pointed over to a blue Camry illegally parked. Having an SFPD badge was probably the only way to get a decent spot in the street on a Saturday. He opened the passenger side door. Knox got in and waited, wondering why he was there, while Ortiz walked around to the driver's side.

  Ortiz got in and looked across at him.

  'You served in Afghanistan right?' he said.

  'Yeah.'

  They didn't appear to be going anywhere which he hoped was a good thing.

  'We're probably not too dissimilar. I'm betting we've both seen things most civilians would never get. I have a cousin in the army so I have the utmost respect for veterans. That's why I'm here, giving you the heads up.'

  Knox turned to face him.

  'How much do you actually know about Angela McGlynn?' Ortiz asked.

  'Nothing at all really. I just drive her around,' Knox said.

  Ortiz spoke in a deliberate manner as though he had put the utmost thought and attention into choosing every word.

  'You need to get as far away from her as possible or else you're going to get caught up in the blowback,' he said.

  Knox stared across at him.

  'What is it that you're saying?'

  'Right now she's being investigated in relation to the possession of stolen charge card data. But I don't think that really has anything to do with you does it?'

  'Absolutely not.'

  'No, but then I'd already figured that. You're back home, trying to make ends meet, taking what work you can get. My guess is, she's trying to set you up. On the other hand, a judge might believe you helped her get it because you needed the money. Then there's a question mark over a dead hooker. You need to be certain she didn't have anything to do with that either.'

  Ortiz smiled. 'My advice to you is, make sure she doesn't take you down with her. She's over.'

  Knox forgot about the coffee and marched back to the apartment. He dialed the number Kelly had left him and waited for it to go through. He sat on the edge of one of the breakfast bar stools then stood up again and walked up and down. It made him feel better. Kelly came on the line and he took a deep breath.

  'How's the job?'

  'Awesome. Not much action but decent rations and they got a yacht. It's like Hooters on the beaches over here. You're an idiot.'

  'Maybe.'

  'So how's it at your end? Oh and did I tell you about the topless chicks and that you're an idiot?'

  'When you went with McGlynn to strong arm that credit card guy, how did it go down?'

  'He folded real easy. She put on quite an act. Cold.'

  'Did she take any of the guy's card data?'

  'Yeah. She downloaded it to a memory stick, why?'

  McGlynn you stupid bitch.

  'I'm just trying to work something out for myself.'

  'Maybe if you're good she'll pick you up a tin star from Walmart. Hell, she might even let you start wearing her panties.'

  'I know carrying little girls' purses must be making you crazy. But stand down Marine. Those French women are way out of your league.'

  He hung up and redialed.

  FIFTY-ONE

  Angela McGlynn

  I had tried to go back to sleep after Kerpen's call but my mind wouldn't switch off. I had given up after an hour and taken a shower. I was thinking about breakfast when the phone rang.

  'Hi John, I was just about to call you.'

  'You at home?'

  'Why?'

  'Are you or aren't you?'

  He sounded agitated and it was an awkward question if he wanted to meet.

  'No.'

  'What are you doing?'

  ‘I'm just on my way to breakfast.’

  ‘I'll be at yours in fifteen minutes. Be there.'

&nbs
p; I could do with checking to see if there was mail anyhow now Jeff was away so there was no point in making an issue out of it.

  'Okay, see you then.'

  I made it over to Lower Haight ahead of Knox and checked the mailbox. Two letters, both addressed to Jeff, nothing for me, though it was unlikely there would be.

  I opened up the house and headed in to the kitchen to leave the mail on the counter. I heard the bell ring and went to get the door.

  'Is it okay if I use the bathroom before we talk?' Knox asked.

  He seemed calmer than he sounded before.

  'Sure.' I pointed up the stairs. 'Take a right at the top.'

  He nodded. 'I remember from when I was here before.'

  John Knox

  Knox checked to see McGlynn had moved out of the hallway and took a left at the top of the stairs. Consider every possibility no matter how unlikely. Evidence is all.

  He pushed open the door to a bedroom. Inside there was a smallish bed, a closet and a desk and chair. Above the desk a shelf was covered in dusty trophies from junior karate tournaments.

  He opened up the closet. Aside from a zipped up black nylon holdall and a photo album in the bottom there was one junior-sized gi with a faded gray belt hanging on a rail by itself. He unzipped the bag. It contained a T-shirt, a pair of jeans and two pairs of panties. All in black. An overnight bag.

  He picked up the photo album and opened it. Three-quarters of the pages were empty. The first few showed McGlynn as a child in karate tournaments. The last two pages showed McGlynn as a teenager with a half-Asian looking guy. They had their arms around one another. McGlynn was smiling. She looked happy. There were two more of the guy by himself.

  He was tall with black spiked hair and by the clothes he was wearing Knox guessed he was a gamer. In one the guy was in some kind of rehearsal studio playing a bass guitar. In another, a more intimate shot, he was pulling a T-shirt on. It was the sort of image your girlfriend snapped when you'd just got out of bed. He took it out from behind the plastic and turned it over. One word was written on the back: Charlie. Knox slipped it back inside and was about to return the album to the floor when a photo tucked into the back cover fell out.