by Jim Magwood
“Yeah. Malvo and Muhammad, right?”
Sylvia added, “Yeah, but there’s still nothing telling us who to go look for. Those two guys got caught because some neighbor saw something they were doing. In the meantime, they shot how many people? Do we have to wait for this to keep on going until some neighbor sees something? Is there nothing here we can run with?”
“Let’s wait a minute and let me get the clerks working on chasing down people who could have had access to the scenes. Then we can go at it again.”
“Wanna take a break for lunch after that?”
“Yeah. Fine with me. Sylvia?”
“I’ll pass. I need to get some stuff at a store down the road. I’ll meet you guys back here in an hour or so?”
“Yeah. Nothing else going on unless we get a call. Hope we don’t, though. This is too much fun. Better’n charades any day.”
The three continued their “charades” after lunch for five more hours before calling it a day. Nothing else of consequence popped out of their study. It seemed like the first time in weeks that no calls had come in for them, and they all actually slept through the night.
CHAPTER 40
Jeff Sheldon had newspapers from around the country spread on his desk and had his computer downloading reports at the same time. The chaos from his latest attack was turning out even better than he had imagined. And so far, no one was linking any of the events together. His plan of spreading the stories out among several media investigators and reporters had kept them from looking at each other’s stories and questioning why so many events at the same time.
He was about to start reading the news downloads when his phone rang.
“Sheldon.”
“This is McCauley over at Treasury. What are you doing right now?”
“Well, I’ve got half a dozen projects running. Anything specific?”
“Do you have time to jump in the middle of something? It’s pretty hot or I wouldn’t ask.”
“Yes, I can probably make the time. Unless it’s too big and I have to dump something else? What can you tell me? See if I can guess at how much time it will take.”
Jeff’s heart skipped a beat when he heard McCauley say, “Have you heard about this mess at the Federal Reserve?” and he had to pause for a quick breath before replying, “I think I saw a news blurb about not enough money being printed or something. Is that it?”
“No. It’s a lot more than that. It looks like someone’s been sending bad signals to various parts of the Fed and they’ve been getting killed over there. I’m going to send you all the details through the secure channel. See if you can quickly pick up something that raises flags for you and get back to me. Maybe there’s some trail you can find and follow back to wherever this all started. They feel that it’s likely coming from one source because it all happened at about the same time and it seems like a single attack, just in different forms. They can’t guess right now, though, whether it’s domestic or international. Okay?”
“Sure, Tom. Send it and I’ll take a quick look. You know, if it’s China playing more of their games, we might really be hurting. That stuff’s been getting worse every day.”
“Yeah. So far, nothing’s actually missing. Money’s still there, as far as we can see. And they’re starting to put the systems back together. I don’t know all the details, but you can probably find names and data to look at from what I send you.”
“Okay, Tom. I’ll be watching for it.”
“I’ll send you the big batch of stuff within a few minutes, then probably a lot more over the next few hours, maybe days. Get back to me soonest, okay?”
“No problem. Send it over.”
Within half an hour, Jeff began receiving a massive amount of material regarding most of the activities the Fed had uncovered. It appeared that some of the banks and offices and departments involved had just about pushed their ‘Send” buttons and passed down virtually everything they had in their computer systems. Customer databases; transaction journals; some internal bank employee “phone books” listing names, emails and so on. Jeff was astounded to see the material several places had sent without appearing to give any thought as to what it was.
A quick search of the material gave him lists of internal, private phone numbers, employee’s names and titles from executives down to clerks. There were even spreadsheets showing activities between some of the banks and their clients with client names and addresses, amounts of the transactions and even routings between various banks, local and overseas. Even account numbers.
Jeff shook his head again, in amazement, then silently thought, Thank you. I would’ve had to dig for ages to get this stuff. You all just saved me so much time. Thank you, thank you.
CHAPTER 41
The detective team members were running down some possible leads of people who could have gained access to the fire scenes. They were in separate cars in different locations when their phones all went off at the same time. When they called in they were told that a bomb was reported at the Smithsonian Museum and they should get there post haste. The other detective teams were tied up at the moment, so this one was theirs.
When they arrived, fire vehicles were already on the scene, people were seen heading quickly down the sidewalks away from the buildings involved, and patrolmen had been stationed at all the entrances. Paul and Jake quickly found each other, then phoned Sylvia to get linked up. They waited almost an hour before the bomb squad gave an all clear and they were able to enter the scene.
What they found was a simple looking student backpack, close to a viewing bench in front of a prehistoric man exhibit. The bomb squad was removing their equipment and Jake asked one of the technicians, “Are you sure that thing’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah. At least I think so.”
The three whirled around to the technician, just in time to see a big grin appearing. Jake did one of his best snarls at the man, then said, “Okay. No birthday present for you this year.”
Sylvia asked, “What can you tell us at this time?”
“Well, no prints or anything in sight. Your scene team will check further on that stuff. What I do see is a pretty sophisticated device, digital battery timing device with enough room to run for days, simple electronic trigger with a voltage increaser able to fire up a large amount of explosive. Right now, I’d say the explosive is likely C-4, but there might be something else mixed in. Doesn’t look really pure. Might be PE4, which is the British version. It’s a little more powerful. That’s it in laymen’s language. Want the scientific version?”
“No, but thanks. We wouldn’t want to cause you to strain or anything.”
The technician chuckled, then went on. “Seriously, we got the call about 11:35, got here about 11:45. Our office is just down the street, so we didn’t have far to go. Most of the people were already out and being questioned by your squads when we arrived. The package was right where you see it. It was actually wedged under the bench when we got it and we only moved it that couple of feet. I marked chalk around exactly where it was.”
“Would it have gone off?”
“Unless something went dead in it, yeah. With a very big bang. It was live and running well. Timer had about another nine hours to go. It was set for exactly ten p.m. The place closes today at eight, I think, so apparently it was set to go off without people around. If it was set purposely that way. Might have just been set for a time without a plan, but maybe the perp was a humanitarian, huh?”
“Yeah, quite a humanitarian,” Jake answered. “Guards, curators, who else would have been in here? Janitors, clerks?”
Sylvia asked, “How big would it have been? How much damage?”
“Can’t tell exactly yet, but probably massive from the looks of it. It was a shaped charge, designed to blow basically straight ahead toward the exhibit, and it could have likely taken out a lot of this building, likely brought the roof down, maybe more.”
“Shaped charge? Sounds more than just an average American bomb
maker.”
“Yeah. I don’t know for sure, of course, but this location, as you see from the emergency door over there, is basically fronting onto the street right outside. The charge was packed and shielded so the explosion would have gone mostly away from the outside wall and into the exhibit and the museum. Inside, in other words, and not just a general bang that would have gone in all directions. Another possible indication that maybe the guy was a humanitarian and didn’t want to hurt anyone outside, Just wanted to do the museum itself.”
“Again,” Paul said, “sounds pretty fancy. Someone would have to have a lot of knowledge to do this?”
“Yep. This wasn’t an amateur, that’s for sure. Hard core bomber, this one.”
“How’d you get the call?”
“Telephone.”
“Oh, man. Sylvia, can I borrow your piece for a moment?” Then turning back to the technician, Jake said, “Where do they teach you guys this stuff? Three Stooges University?”
“Yep. Give us a degree, too. However, dispatch got the call from staff at the museum. Said they had a suspicious package and were evacuating everyone. A youngster showed a guard where she thought somebody had forgotten their bag and he started it from there. They talked to the girl and don’t think anyone touched the bag. It was wedged pretty tight under the bench. Nobody from the museum touched it, we’re told. We only used tools and gloves, so it should still be clean for you guys. We’ve removed the actual explosive, anything dangerous, but everything else is intact. Our guys and yours will work together and get everything off it possible and we’ll get you a full report, hopefully by morning.”
“Okay. Thanks. If you happen to get any identifiers off it, fingerprints or anything, don’t wait. Give us a call right away so we can get after it. Here’s our personal cards and numbers. Call one of us direct.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll call all three of you. I’ll have a basic report probably first thing in the morning followed by the full report with all the technical language in another day.”
Jake replied, “Yeah, we really want all that technical stuff.”
The police crime scene group had arrived and were setting up to search and record everything in sight, so the detective team and bomb squad group moved away. Paul, Sylvia and Jake went down the street to a little Greek restaurant for a late lunch and to compare notes. Nobody had anything to add to what they had learned from the technician, and no leads had popped up from their searches before they had been called, so they headed back to the office to write reports and wait to hear from the crime scene team.
CHAPTER 42
“Roger Evans.”
“Mr. Evans, this is Detective Paul Corbin of the Washington, D.C. police. Ron Kincaide said I should call you about some possible help on a case I’m working.”
“Hi, detective. Yes, I spoke with Ron yesterday. You got to me quick. How can I help you?”
“Well, he said you have some computer resources that might help us here, some stuff I maybe can’t access. Do you know the case I’ve got?”
“No. Ron didn’t say much, just that he’s not working it direct, but that I might help.”
“Yeah. Do you have a couple of minutes right now to talk this over or should I call again later?”
“No, I’m okay right now. Go ahead.”
Okay. Here’s the story then.”
Ron spent twenty minutes walking through the basics of the multiple cases they were working. The school fires; the shootings that went with them; the notes. Some details so Roger could really see what it was about. Then he said, “So, what do you think? Do you have the ability, the time, to help us? I don’t know what really you do, but Kincaide said you were good and I could trust your work, so if you can help, I’m ready.”
Roger spent a few minutes letting Paul know who he was and generalities of the outside work he did. Roger had his own computer business in Vancouver, Canada, where he had developed some very special encryption software that was in use by many large companies and banks, and even some governments. In addition, he belonged to a private group of people who used their massive computer skills to track down events and situations around the world, analyze the behind-the-scenes of what was going on, and then use their findings to assist various agencies that were trying to investigate the events.
He was also a close friend of Dr. Jacob Asch from Israel and they had worked together to resolve some world threatening situations, working to assist the CIA, the Mossad, and various governments.
“Okay, Paul, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s going on. How much detail can you send me? Case files, investigative findings and so on. I’ve got some time I can make available, so maybe I can at least take a look and see if anything pops up for me.”
“That would really be appreciated, Roger. Before we go on, though, how about cost? Might as well get that up front first.”
“At this point, there’s no charge, Paul. I’d like to help if I can. If something specifically costly comes up, we can talk then. For now, don’t worry about it.”
“Okay. Again, my thanks. I’ve already gotten clearance to share most anything with you. There’s a couple of things that are pretty high up and if we really need to go into them, I’ll need to talk to some other people. But for now, how about if I send you whatever I can get out of the computer at this time. I may have to input some of our hand notes to be able to send you, but I can send you all the digitized notes and files now. Would that work?”
“Sure. Great. Here’s my e-mail address and it’s as secure as I can get it, so it’ll be safe. I’ll spend whatever time necessary going over things and then get back with you to debrief and perhaps get more stuff from you. Any specific time rush on this?”
“Yeah. Yesterday would’ve been great.”
“Gotcha. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
With that they signed off and within a few minutes, Roger got a download of most of the case files and data and was able to start a review.
Roger had a major computer setup at his home in Vancouver, and he was linked to the business downtown so he could use the heavy-duty facilities there whenever he needed. He also had a cabin out at Bistcho Lake, about 400 miles northwest of Edmonton, where he spent all the time he could. It was almost totally isolated, but he had installed a major computer center there and it was hooked into satellites and services worldwide. From either Vancouver or Bistcho Lake, he could use his beloved computers to do about anything he wanted.
The first thing he did was import everything he could from the police data files into a database of his own so he could sort and spin as he felt the need. Then he started a worldwide search of all the materials—names, dates, places and so on—to see if anything linked anywhere. With his sophisticated systems, he had the ability to break through most secure or encrypted systems he came up against, and could also tap into satellites and files wherever he was led. Each member of the group he worked with had resources of their own that he could request help from, also.
In addition, his friend Jacob Asch had some ultra-secret sources, both digital and human, that could sometimes be tapped if Jacob was willing. Jacob had hinted lately about starting his own investigative service to assist high-level agencies, police departments and others, in the research they needed. With his Mossad background and the sources he had developed during his many years as an agent with them, he had many valuable contacts and sources of information. The private agency hadn’t come about yet, but Roger had told Jacob he would be interested in helping if Jacob ever did go that direction.
CHAPTER 43
Jake picked up the phone at 8:41 in the morning. “Detective Hardee. How can I help you?”
“Good morning. I’m looking for Detective Paul Corbin. Is he available?”
“No, he’s not in the office yet. He’s my partner, though, so can I help you?”
“Hold on for just a minute, please. Okay, yes, your name’s on the list here. I’m Analyst Sue Branch from the bomb sq
uad lab and I’ve got some preliminary information for you on the Smithsonian bomb. We’ll send over the prelim today and the final in a couple of days, but do you have a pencil ready for a verbal?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Okay. Well, our on-the-scene people initially figured the substance was C-4, but then because of the possible coloration thought it might be the British version, PE4. Turns out it was not PE, but regular C-4. Just had some coloring contamination mixed in, possibly from the people who shaped the charge.”
“But still C-4 that goes boom in the night, right?”
“For sure, and this would have made a very big boom. There was enough stuff there to make a big hole in something, or to level a large area.”
“Okay. Nothing else? No fingerprints or anything?”
“No such luck. Nothing distinguished in the components, wiring and so on. Pretty normal stuff, though quite sophisticated. What we would see from someone who really knew his stuff, so no amateur here. One thing we did get, though. It was military.”
“You sure? How do you know?”
“Yes sir. When C-4 is made, there are tagging chemicals put into it so it can be determined where it came from. The various production and shipment lots are recorded so we can usually tell where it went. To which demolition firms, for instance, or, as in this case, which military branch and location. We’ve determined that this particular batch did go to the Navy about three years ago. We contacted the depot where it was stored and learned that a large amount of this particular C-4 was sent to a Navy ship-fueling base in Trinidad, off the coast of South America, for a demolition project. Apparently, they needed to expand the refueling harbor and needed to clear a large amount of rock.
“They did a quick check of use records and inventory for us and have determined that there is an amount of the C-4 missing, approximately one hundred pounds of the material. They’re digging deeper as we speak and will be back to us as soon as they have any more information.”
“That sounds like more than just a minor amount of the stuff, don’t you think, Ms. Branch?”