Shaken, I paused the video to settle my nerves and forced my thoughts back to what had been in the earlier part. There hadn’t been anyone who looked to be carrying a load of explosives. Granted, I didn’t really know how bulky the load would have been, but if the explosive was C4, it must have been in place before any of the video I had already watched. That meant I needed to go further back in the videos if I was to have a chance of spotting the bomber. So far it could have been anybody, not just the man who had argued with Reid, and someone else could have set it off. For that matter, the explosive could have been on a timer.
Weigner had given me the only information I had about the layout of the building with his sketches. His ideas about how effectively explosives could have hidden were the best I could get. Had the room under the lab been empty, or had the explosives been hidden mixed in with something? No matter how they had been hidden, whoever placed them couldn’t have left them there for very long – too much chance they would be discovered. I’d watched everyone who had entered the building from the time the TV crews had started arriving, and there was no indication the bomber had taken advantage of the confusion while the video equipment was being set up. Since I hadn’t seen anything on the video I had watched, the explosives must have been placed before the TV crews started to arrive.
I ran the video back to the arrival of the first van and watched it again. This time I noticed a person getting out of a parked car shortly after Reid had opened the door and the crews began moving equipment into the building. The man went in with a crew. I had seen him on the previous pass, but I hadn’t noticed him getting out of the car, so I had thought he was a member of a crew. Now, paying closer attention, I also realized that he appeared inordinately bulky. I’d missed that earlier. I backed the video up to when the car pulled up. The timestamp showed only a minute had passed since the first van arrived. That timing seemed too coincidental, so I backed the video up further. Sure enough, the same car had driven by several times before the first van arrived. Once again, the license plate was unreadable in any of the frames, but the car was clearly a Porsche Boxster. Also, while it was admittedly cold that evening, when the man had gotten out of the car, he had worn a hoodie and managed to keep his face hidden in every frame. Maybe I had stumbled on the guy who put explosives in the building.
I fast forwarded the video until someone came out of the building. It was the same guy. He had lost a significant amount of bulk, but he was still clearly a big man. Frustratingly, he kept his face hidden throughout, as if he knew he was being videoed. As I watched the Boxster pull away, I wrote, “Black Boxster. Age indeterminate. License unreadable.”
Assuming there were explosives, and Capt. Weigner’s description certainly suggested it, this man could have brought at least some of them in. Why else had he shed so much bulk? He had clearly carried something in and left it behind. Retracing what I had watched, I couldn’t find anyone else who looked remotely suspicious, but I had to wonder if he were the only one. How much C4 could he have carried under his jacket? And, even after getting rid of that much stuff, whatever it was, he was far too big to be the man who had argued with Reid. Supposing the explosion was intentional, I had to believe this guy was involved, but I still couldn’t rule out the other man. I wondered if the heavyset guy and the other one might be in cahoots. My gut told me he was at least one of the perpetrators.
Still, all I had was my suspicion. I couldn’t prove anything. I was going to have to study the video more thoroughly to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. If the guy in the Porsche had brought explosives, was that load all it took to destroy that whole building so completely? If it took another load or more, was there something on the video earlier in the day or maybe the day before? It didn’t seem to me that the person responsible would have left the C4 even that long, but I wanted to be sure. I told Sal what part of the video I had watched, and he downloaded it onto one of my USB drives.
My next stop was James Harrison University, Reid’s university.
◆◆◆
Day 8, 1:00PM
I started in the registrar’s office. The woman at the counter was short and a little hefty with a head of grey hair. She reminded me of somebody’s grandma, which she probably was. I showed her the image I had of the guy who had argued with Reid. “I’m here to see if I can find someone to identify this man.”
She looked at it, cocked her head, and finally shook her head. “Sorry, we see so many different faces around here.” She called over another woman who had just finished helping someone else, and she said essentially the same thing.
I pulled out my ID and my newly minted badge and explained that I needed to see Reid’s dorm room and talk to people in the dorm. “What’s the protocol for that?”
Grandma said, “Let me call the campus police. They can send someone over to escort you.” She picked up a handset and punched a number.
The campus cop and I rode his golf cart half way across the campus to get to a four story brick building. The main entrance opened on a foyer with a substantial community room to the side where several students were either reading or engaged in conversation. I approached a girl wearing a colorful cashmere sweater, flashed my badge, and showed her the picture on my phone. “Yeah, I know him. That’s McKenzie Gardner.”
Now I was getting somewhere. “Do you know where I can find him?”
“His room is 403. Is he in some kind of trouble?” She seemed more excited about the prospect of some great gossip than concerned about the possibility that Gardner was of interest to the Feds.
“Not that I know of. I just have some questions I want to ask.” Okay, I was hedging. He might be a murderer, but I didn’t know that. “Thanks.”
That had been a surprise. 403 was the room number I had for Reid. Gardner was his roommate.
The cop and I took the stairs to the fourth floor. I could feel the adrenalin building up. This was going to be interesting. I might start getting some real answers. Of course, I had no experience interrogating suspects. So far I’d been dealing with people who hadn’t been anywhere near the explosion. All I’d had to do was avoid embarrassing them. Now I was going to be talking to the possible murderer, and I didn’t want to say anything that might keep him from talking. Sure I’d seen interrogations on TV, but I had no idea how realistic they were. Should I start with “Where were you on the night of …?” I knew that wouldn’t work. I decided to start by telling him what I was doing.
The name plates by the door to 403 said “Duncan Reid” and “McKenzie Gardner.” I knocked on the door.
“Come,” said a rich baritone voice.
Gardner rose to his feet as I opened the door. From his picture I knew he was good-looking, but in person he was downright handsome. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black T-shirt that read “I like computers. It’s people I hate.” He had a baffled look on his face. I don’t know whether it was because I was with a cop, or it was my bandages. I’ve got to get these bandages off, I thought. I continued my lame running gag. “You should see the other guy.”
He looked relieved. “That must have hurt. What can I do for you?”
“I’m Samantha Pederson. I’m conducting an independent investigation into the explosion that took your roommate’s life.”
That seemed to take Gardner aback. I thought I saw something flash in his eyes, but then he composed himself. Maybe I was only imagining things. “Duncan and I had our differences, but I still can’t believe he’s gone,” he said. “What can I tell you?”
“I have a personal interest in teleportals, and I’m trying to find concrete proof that the explosion wasn’t matter/antimatter.”
He seemed a little confused. “And how can I help with that?”
“You were there just before the explosion. I was wondering if you noticed anything, gas odor or anything else suspicious.”
Now he looked wary. “How did you know I was there?”
“You were in one of the videos taken before Reid started his show.”
Did he look relieved? He shook his head. “That building was full of odd odors, but no gas. You think it was a gas explosion?”
“It’s a slim possibility, but no, I don’t think it was gas. Did you see anyone who didn’t look like they belonged while you were there?”
“Wait a minute. I just realized, you think someone set the explosion. You mean I could have been killed while I was there?” I can’t say I saw terror in his eyes, but there was a definite hint of fear.
I just nodded. It seemed obvious to me.
Gardner sat down with a plop. “I had assumed it blew when Reid tried to make contact, and I knew he was going to build up the tension before doing it. If someone else set off the explosion …”
By now I was pretty well convinced that he wasn’t the bomber, but I continued. “Could you tell me what you and Reid were arguing over before you left?”
“What? How did you know about the argument?” He looked wary again.
“The video. It looked pretty heated.”
Gardner exhaled slowly, as if thinking of the best way to answer. “It was. He was turning the project into a promotional circus. I had footed the damn bill for the equipment and he was showing it off without giving me any credit. Hell, I wanted to start producing the portals, but then I found out that Dr. Kim had already applied for patents for the most important parts. He didn’t care. He just wanted to show the world how great he was.” He clenched his fists and scowled.
I admit that I’m not that good at reading people, but what I was seeing didn’t strike me as the reaction of an egotist who would kill to avenge such a slight. He seemed genuinely frightened by what had happened.
He must have thought I was about to accuse him though. His eyes widened and his brow furrowed. “Hey, you don’t think I had anything to do with the explosion, do you?”
I kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t a trained detective, but I did know most people like to fill the empty air with talk. Sometimes they let things slip.
“I was over a mile away when it happened,” he insisted. “You can ask my girlfriend, Cheryl Jansen. She was with me when I stopped by the workshop.”
I hadn’t seen her in any of the videos. I decided not to bring that up. I wrote her name down in my notes. “I would like to talk to her. How can I find her?”
He gave me her dorm name and room number, and then gave me her phone number almost as an afterthought.
I was just about to leave when I realized I was talking to someone who had experience, however limited, with teleportals. “One further question. Since you and Reid worked together to build your portals, did either of you do any work on security?”
Again Gardner looked to be confused. He seemed to be well versed at it. “Security? What do you mean?”
That didn’t sound encouraging. “You know, keeping unwanted guests from coming through.”
He frowned. “Other than having to dial in and have someone answer like a telephone, no.”
That surprised me. “Did you not have a visual only mode?” I asked.
“Visual only? Oh, you mean optical mode. Yeah, we used it to contact the other universe.”
I was stunned. How had I missed that? “You contacted the other universe. Do you have the coordinates?”
“No, that was Reid’s department, and he didn’t share them. Why do you want to know?”
I didn’t see any reason not to tell him. “I’ve been working with Dr. Kim, and the universe we’re talking to hasn’t located any place that had an explosion that happened at the same time this one did. If the coordinates are in that universe, we can locate them and prove that there wasn’t a matter/antimatter explosion.”
“Wait a minute. You’re talking to the other universe? How? Duncan never did that. We wrote on a white board.” He appeared genuinely interested.
“We used the dial-in module, simple AM radio I think.”
It appeared I had gotten as much useful information from him as I could get. We seemed to have the same goals, and I didn’t get any kind of feeling that he was being evasive. I thanked him for his time and started to leave, but he stopped me. “You didn’t ask me if he had any enemies,” he said with a faint smirk.
Of course! They always do that on TV. Why hadn’t I? I asked “Why should I?” to cover up.
“If somebody bombed the building, wouldn’t that either have to be terrorists or someone who had it in for him”
I was annoyed that I hadn’t already thought of that. I saw the campus cop hide a smirk. “Okay then, did he have any enemies?”
Gardner gave me a list of girlfriends Reid had dumped along with their phone numbers.
I wrote the information down, but I said, “Somehow I don’t think a jilted girlfriend would use explosives to do him in. Can you think of any others?”
Gardner hesitated, looking thoughtful. Whatever debate was going on in his mind, he finally made a decision and said, “Duncan was running a cheating business. He was selling tests and answers. When he started work on this teleportal project, he didn’t have the time anymore to hack into the faculty’s files and steal the tests, so his customers were left high and dry. I can imagine they weren’t at all happy with him.”
“Okaaay… Do you have any names?”
“Just one, but there were others, Coach Bednarik.”
That surprised me until I thought about it. “A coach?” Of course. If he could keep his players eligible by making sure they passed their tests… I let Gardner fill the silence again.
“When Duncan stopped supplying test answers, the coach lost some of his key players. We had the worst record in decades, and he got fired.”
I realized he might be onto something. Then I remembered the unidentified man in the security footage. “What does Coach Bednarik look like?”
“I never paid that much attention to him, but I do know he’s burly. He is a football coach after all.”
I had a fresh suspect.
Chapter 19
“During a news conference this morning, Senator Blake, chairman of the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation, was asked why the videos of the explosion last Monday were confiscated. His answer was anything but revealing.”
[Video snippet] Senator Blake: “Just what is Homeland trying to hide? I wish I knew. If we are to go ahead with developing a way to deal with the potentially calamitous effects these teleportal devices will have on the economy, we need answers. Congressional efforts to find out what is going on have been hampered by high-level classification and need-to-know. Ironically, even if I knew anything, I couldn’t tell you.”
– Lambert Pierce, Channel 15 News
Day 8, 3:30PM
Now I had something to work with. Talking to Gardner had given me a new suspect, Bednarik. Of course there was always the possibility Gardner was trying to take my attention away from him. I certainly didn’t know how reliable Gardner himself was. He had really seemed surprised by the idea that someone might have set the explosion. But he had also admitted to having issues with Reid. Were those issues enough to provoke murder, especially blowing up a group of people who had done him no harm?
Still, the “burly” description he gave of Bednarik would fit the guy who had walked in and out of the warehouse before the explosion. Gardner certainly had no way of knowing what I had seen, so he couldn’t have picked the coach out of thin air to match that image. I mulled over how to approach Bednarik and decided I had better get some corroborating evidence first.
On my way home I stopped by the agency to check in with Frost. Even though I was technically on vacation, I thought I should keep him up to date. Also he was a good sounding board. Maybe he’d have some ideas on how to proceed, especially a way of approaching Bednarik.
One of my favorite guards—I just knew him as Mr. O’Reilly—was on duty at the security counter. “Hey, Pederson. Haven’t seen you in a while.” He saw my bandages, and did a double take. “My gosh, what happened to you?”
I avoided repeating
what I’d been telling everyone else. “I was too close to the explosion last Monday. Fortunately I wasn’t hurt seriously. I’ll be good as new in a week or two.” I unslung my purse and pulled out my access card. Then I put the purse in my locker. I took another moment to chat. “How’s Celeste?” She was his daughter and about eight years younger than I.
He smiled. “She’s getting married in December.”
That announcement triggered thoughts of Troy. I wondered where we stood. Up until now I hadn’t really thought about the possibility of marriage. Yeah, I was crazy about him, but I didn’t know for sure how he felt about me. Neither of us had said we loved the other. As far as I could tell it wasn’t that he didn’t care. I was pretty certain he was so wrapped up in teleportal development he just wasn’t really thinking of anything else, and I was in no hurry.
I snapped back to real life. Right now I had business to attend to. “Congratulate her for me,” I said. O’Reilly grinned, and I waved to him as I headed for the door to the SCIF.
I went straight to Frost’s office. The door was open, and he was at his desk reading some papers. “Got a second, boss?”
He looked up at me and stood. “Hi, Samantha, come on in and have a seat. I’ve been doing some mindless admin work and could use a break.” He came around the desk and pointed to one of the guest chairs. When I sat, he took the other. “I gather you have something to report.”
I gave him the condensed version of what I had done since the last time we spoke. I finished with, “But I’m really frustrated. If I didn’t know how important proving Dr. Wells wrong is, I’d seriously consider throwing in the towel.”
He frowned thoughtfully. “But it sounds like you have two viable suspects.”
That caught me a little off guard. “Oh, well, I’m not so sure Gardner is a viable suspect. It’s a tossup. He says he was with his girlfriend at the time of the explosion. Of course, if his girlfriend corroborates his alibi, she could be lying to protect him. What makes me doubt that it was him is that he seemed genuinely scared when I told him the explosion wasn’t caused by the portal.”
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