When the police sergeant was finished, Reedy positioned himself in front of the map with a ruler and pencil and began to make grids along the shoreline, starting with an access point north of town that seemed about as far as Jessica Campbell would have been willing to walk. "The trick will be determining how far from a ramp a car would move downriver," he said. "Last March, the river was a few feet higher than it is right now—flowing a lot faster with spring runoff and flooding. There's a good chance that a car could have been carried a ways downstream from the entry point."
The searchers got back in their cars and drove north on the Albany Post Road and then turned toward the river on a small offshoot called South Mill Road. They'd chosen for their new command post one of the access roads leading to a boat ramp about halfway between the northernmost point of the grid and the town.
As the Baker Street and dive teams began to unload and check their equipment, the Duchess County sergeant and his deputy cordoned off the area to prevent the public from wandering in. "Marj and I are going back to town," Fulton said as he and Cobing stood watching with Marlene and Kenny Katz. "We'll start at the train station and see if anybody recalls seeing Jessica Campbell up here last March. We've checked her credit card purchases. There's nothing for a train or bus ticket, but she could have paid in cash."
"Which would be interesting from the trial standpoint," Kenny said, pulling out a small pad to write himself a note. "Indicates someone who is making a conscious decision to avoid detection, wouldn't you say, Marlene?"
"Seems a logical conclusion," she agreed. "I guess God told her to visit an ATM first."
Surrounded by a rapt audience, Swanburg explained how the Baker Street Irregulars approached locating clandestine graves: "by combining science, the powers of observation, and, admittedly, a bit of luck and intuition."
"We've done our homework," he said. "One of the first assignments was calling the New York district of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which is responsible for the maintenance of navigation channels on U.S. rivers. The Corps keeps the Hudson channel clear to a minimum of 32 feet—not necessarily in all parts or along the banks, but the main shipping channel. It's also deeper, much deeper in parts, so hopefully our car didn't get too far out into the current before it sank. Here's Jim. He can tell you more about how they're going to search for what we cannot see."
Swanburg waved to the geologist, who wore a floppy, wide-brimmed fly-fisherman's hat and an aloha shirt. "Hey Jim, got a moment to explain your gadgets?"
"Sure, the dive team's still got to get the Zodiac off the trailer and into the water," Reedy said. "We first considered using a type of sonar equipment typically used to map the bottom of large bodies of water—the ocean, big lakes. It's useful when looking for certain geological formations that might indicate mineral deposits and potential drilling sites, or searching for lost equipment, and even sunken vessels and aircraft. Essentially it takes 'photographs' of what's below, sort of like satellite imagery, only these images are created by bouncing sound waves off of objects. That data is fed into a computer that translates it into an image that mirrors the geography—like rock formations or crevices. Sometimes it's clear enough to detect the silhouette of manmade objects, like a car. Some of that depends on what objects are next to it and what angle it may have come to rest at on the bottom."
However, he'd decided against sonar. "The river's not deep enough," he explained. "Just like with aerial photography or satellite imagery, you have to be a good distance above the object to understand what you are looking at. Too close and it's all just a blur."
Instead, he'd decided on using a magnetometer. "As you'll remember from our excursion in Idaho when we were searching for a buried car in a gravel pit, the Earth is a big magnet that generates magnetic fields running north and south. Also, objects made of ferrous materials—like iron and steel—have their own magnetic fields. Now the Earth's magnetic field has a certain measurable intensity, but place an object made of iron or steel—such as a Volvo station wagon—and it will ramp up the intensity at that particular spot. The magnetometer detects these changes. As we pass a magnetometer over a certain area, it takes readings and feeds them back into our computer. The result looks like a topographic map, only these lines denote magnetic intensity rather than elevation. Large variations in this topography are what we call 'anomalies,' and that's what we're looking for here."
"How would you know that you're looking at a car, rather than, say, a steel drum?"
"Good question, Sergeant Washington. That's where knowing what we're looking for, and if possible, the amount of ferrous materials used to create it, becomes important. A 1,500-pound car made of steel is going to give off a much more intense reading than a 50-pound steel drum."
"Where's the magnetometer?" Katz asked, looking over at the Baker Street equipment. Nothing looked particularly sexy. Just some machines with graph paper and dials and knobs.
"That gadget sitting in the inner tube over there," Reedy said, pointing. "And we're going to be towing it behind us so that it doesn't get thrown off by being close to the boat's motor."
"Because it's noisy?"
"Well, that's part of it, but really it's because the engine is made of steel and has a magnetic field," Reedy explained. "In fact, that's part of the reason we're using a Zodiac, which is predominantly made out of rubber and has no electromagnetic field."
Swanburg explained that he'd contacted the Volvo manufacturer, and after being "passed from one confused engineer to another" he'd been put in touch with someone who could actually give him the weight of the steel in the car, as well as the percentage of iron in that steel. "It really helps us calibrate the instrument," he said. "In fact, the Volvo guy was a big help all around."
"You know how Volvo is always boasting in their ads about how safety conscious they are?" Reedy said. "Well, those guys have actually performed tests on how long their cars float if they go into the water. They've even done them with the windows up and with the windows down, which obviously makes the car sink faster. Along with the flowcharts we got from the Corps of Engineers, the 'float times' give us an idea of how far down from each access point we should be concentrating. At least to start."
When the dive team had the boat in the water, Reedy and Gates got in along with the police officer who would be manning the helm. Reedy would be monitoring the magnetometer, while Gates used Global Positioning System equipment to record the exact location of any anomalies he saw. "I'd like to go," Swanburg said, "but these old knees can't take sitting in a cramped boat all day."
"What about them?" Katz asked. He pointed to the dive team, who, after getting their scuba equipment, ropes, and other items out of the van and launching the boat, were settling into lawn chairs.
"They'll only go in if there's something worth checking out," Swanburg said. "The river looks calm. But you'd be surprised how powerful that current is. The Hudson is greatly affected by the Atlantic Ocean's tides, which can push brackish water as far north as Poughkeepsie, and when the tide goes the other way, it's like a vacuum cleaner sucking the water down. It can be dangerous, plus you never know what's moving down the current beneath the surface, like submerged logs, and there isn't much visibility. It's risky business, even for guys who know what they're doing."
Reedy shoved the boat from shore and hopped aboard. The boat roared off into the river and headed north.
Marlene watched until it disappeared around a bend in the river. She knew that once they reached the farthest access road on their search pattern, they would begin the tedious process of going back and forth from one bank to the shipping channel, working their way downstream through the first grid. When they finished the first grid, they would begin the next—back and forth, one run slightly overlapping the last so as not to miss anything, moving below access points with the current.
Marlene started to turn away from the river just as an Amtrak train appeared from the same direction, riding a rail above the water and twenty-five yards f
rom the shore. As the train passed, she could see curious faces pressed against the window as they spotted the police cars and curious gathering on the shore. A child waved to her and she raised a hand to reply before the little face was gone. It reminded her of the photographs she'd seen of the three children, who waited ... she was sure of this .... out there beneath the murky waters.
In the meantime, there wasn't much for her to do except go into town to pick up some food for lunch. Cobing and Fulton had already headed for town, so she invited Katz and Swanburg, but they'd settled into chairs and were telling "old war stories." Without any other company to keep her occupied, she decided to call Giancarlo to see how he and his brother were faring with her dad.
"Great!" he replied. "We're going to Coney Island for a Nathan's hot dog and the roller coaster."
Marlene laughed. "Maybe you ought to reverse the order and do the roller coaster before the hot dog ... if you know what I mean.... Anyway, remind me to call my cousin Eric when I get back to confirm our field trip to the New York Stock Exchange."
Giancarlo, who was much more likely to remember than his brother, promised he would. The boys were required to write up a report after spending a day at a New York City landmark for a civics class, and they'd chosen the Exchange. In the past, that would have been easy enough to arrange, as the NYSE had been open to the public. Before 9/11, its viewing gallery had always been brimming with tourists and schoolchildren who had come to learn about the financial center of the American economy. However, after that it was much tougher to get in. Visitors had to be sponsored by someone who already had security clearance ... such as her cousin Enrique "Eric" Eliaso, who was a floor manager for one of the big trading banks.
"Sure, no problem, be good to see you and those juvenile delinquents you been raising," he'd assured her just that past week. But Eric liked to party and there was a good chance he'd forget to get her and the twins on the list to get in unless she stayed on him.
After leaving the Staatsburg grocery store, Marlene followed the Lincoln back to the encampment. She could tell by the way Fulton bounced out of the car and called to Katz and Swanburg that the hunting trip had been a success.
"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," she said as she brought the groceries over to the table, where the rest of the group was gathering around Fulton. "What's up ... or, as the twins' might say ... 'sup?"
"Word," Fulton replied, miming gang posturing and cracking open a bottle of beer. "I'll let Detective Marj fill you all in. After all, she was the one who sweet-talked the station master into cooperating with Johnny Law." Cobing gave Fulton a smile. "The station master is exactly what you'd expect in a small town—crotchety and suspicious. He was 'too busy' to want to look at a photo lineup we brought along that includes a head shot of Jessica Campbell. But I turned on the charm, asked a few questions about trains, and that warmed him right up. The man positively loves trains, especially the Hudson Railway trains. I now know more about narrow-gauge and standard-gauge tracks than this city girl ever wanted to know. But he also agreed to look at our photo lineup."
Staatsburg had a population of less than a thousand and for the most part served a few regular commuters—people willing to spend the time to live in the country when their jobs were in the big city. Otherwise, the station didn't do a lot of business, and its staff almost never saw strangers who walked in from nowhere and bought a one-way ticket to Grand Central Terminal. Certainly no one like the woman who'd obviously been wearing a bad wig and cheap, oversized sunglasses.
"This 'stranger' paid cash," Cobing said, "which is apparently unusual and something the station master noted. And he picked her out of the photo lineup."
"So she was wearing a disguise," Marlene said.
Kenny made more notes in his pad. "Let's hope we can find her car," he said. They all turned to look at the river as they heard the Zodiac approaching.
Marlene laid out the lunch materials as the others waited for the boat team to stow their gear and walk to the table. "So anything interesting?" she asked when they arrived.
"Yeah, we've come across several anomalies worth checking out," Reedy said, fishing a cold beer out of the cooler and taking a swig. "Oh man that's good. It's flippin' hot out there with that sun beating on you from above and reflecting back up at you from the water.... Anyway, there's one right off that first boat ramp. It's in shallow water, but it isn't a real strong signal—my guess is somebody lost their boat trailer. However, there are several other anomalies with pretty intense magnetic fields that seemed to be about the distance a car might drift after rolling in from the access point. In fact, let's go over the map, and we'll plot them right now."
Using the GPS coordinates Gates had written down, Reedy marked the location of the anomalies on the Corps of Engineers maps. When he finished, he pointed to one near the first access point. "If she rolled the car in there, she would have had to walk nearly four miles back into town."
"Or hitchhike," Washington said. "Folks around here would pick up a woman and give her a lift."
Reedy pointed to two dots on the map. "Nothing much here. However, when we got to the grid right above here, we hooked into a couple of good ones." He pointed to first one and then a second dot on the map. "The readings were so intense, I thought something had to have been wrong. So I recalibrated the machine and we tried again. Same thing." The geologist stopped talking and looked down at his feet.
"You got a hunch," Marlene said. "Give it up, Jim."
Reedy shook his head. "I'm a scientist, we don't believe in hunches."
"Bullshit," Gates snorted. "What's scientific theory except somebody's educated hunch that if such and such happens, this will be the result?"
"Okay, okay," Reedy laughed. "Yeah, if I had to pick a spot right now, my hunch is that's a submerged car," he said, pointing to the second dot. "Doesn't make it our submerged car, but you asked. If we're doing this right, though, we ought to check out the next two grids, at least down to Staatsburg."
"I vote for intuition," Marlene said. "If this hunch doesn't pan out, then we check out the next two grids. Come on, Jim, live a little dangerously." Reedy scratched under his hat. "It's completely against the scientist's code, but okay," he said with a grin. "Let's do it."
A dozen willing hands pushed the Zodiac back into the current and cheered again as it roared off upriver.
The small Zodiac was soon joined by a much larger boat owned by the Duchess County Sheriff's Office. The big boat was carrying several large anchors with cables attached that were in turn attached to buoys.
With Reedy directing, the sheriff's boat maneuvered into position just upstream of the first of the two anomalies he'd noted. He wasn't willing to completely abandon scientific practice and just go with his hunch, so he'd decided they'd check out the closer of the two first.
The first attempt to drop an anchor misjudged the current; the anchor ended up too far downriver and had to be hauled back to the surface. The second attempt was nearly a bull's-eye.
As Reedy reported their progress like a play-by-play announcer for those on shore, the divers clipped their safety ropes to the cable running down to the anchor and went over the edge. They didn't wear fins, since they weren't going to be able to swim against the current. Instead, they wore extra weight to help them get to the bottom and explore on foot. As they sank beneath the surface, those in the boat and on the shore were glued to their tinny-sounding accounts from their headset radios.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I can't see my hand in front of my face," said the first diver.
"It is a might murky," replied the second. "Uh, Houston, the Eagles have landed. We're going to walk around a bit on the dark side of the moon here if we can. That's one small step for a man ..."
The radios were silent for several minutes when the excited voice of one of the divers broke in. "Found it," he shouted. "It's definitely the bumper of a car. Let me work my way around to the side ..."
A few moments later, the vo
ice reported in again. "What we got here is a genuine Ford Econoline van, circa 1970s."
"Might as well look inside," said the second diver. "Maybe we'll solve some other murder."
"Yeah, a two-fer," said the first. "Hold on, the side door is open.... HOLY SHIT!"
The next few moments were filled with sounds of panic. Then a laugh. "Sorry about that folks. I poked my head in the side door of this baby and nearly got run over by one big fuckin' ass sturgeon. Damn thing was the size of a shark!"
"Oh, come on, O'Donnell, I've got goldfish bigger than that," his partner laughed. "I've never see you move that fast on dry land."
"Fuck you, Clanahan. But there's a bunch of crap in the back of this van. Might be worth hauling out of the water someday, but it ain't no Volvo and it's been here awhile."
The divers pulled themselves hand over hand to the surface and climbed back inside the Zodiac. The sheriff's boat then hauled the anchor, cable, and weights back up and the two craft headed for the next anomaly, where the process was repeated.
Once again, those in the boat and on shore could only wait as the two divers sank into the gloom to the river bed, bantering as they went. But within moments O'Donnell's voice came across the radio, sounding excited. "Houston, we practically landed on top of the target," he said. "And we, in fact, have another car, resting partly on its side. I do believe it's a station wagon. Let me see if I can find something to identify it."
The radios were silent again until Fulton grabbed one of the radios from a dive team member on shore. "Goddam it," he swore. "What kind of car is it?"
"Hold your horses, son," Clanahan replied. "Let me see if I can detach the license plate.... Got it! I'm coming up."
Escape Page 25