by Rob Ashman
They exited the hallway in silence and entered the vast open space of the main building. Any equipment which was installed there had long gone, but there was debris strewn all over the floor and empty cable ties hung along the walls. The building had been stripped bare of anything that was valuable: copper cable, light fittings, even portions of the girder work supporting the structure had been hacked away.
‘Careful where you put your feet,’ Bassano said trying to be helpful as they picked their way across the centre of the building.
‘What was the address given by the phone company?’ Jo asked.
Bassano stopped and consulted his notes. ‘It was GAI Circles Inc, Main Building, Level 3, Brunswick Industrial Estate.’
Jo scanned the cavernous expanse of the warehouse. ‘Look.’ She pointed toward the north wall. ‘There are offices on that mezzanine and, if I’m not mistaken, they’re three floors high. Let’s take a look.’
They crossed the expanse of cluttered floor to reach the metal steps which ran up to the offices. The structure was unstable as hell. They both took a firm hold of the handrail and walked up the stairs.
‘Keep close to the wall,’ Bassano said. The whole structure was swaying and he was sure he could feel the metal staircase coming away from the brickwork.
There were three landing areas. The first two lay empty and were used for storage but at the top there was a walkway which ran along the front of three prefabricated offices. Each one had its door open and its windows smashed. They went into the first office crunching shards of glass under their feet.
Unlike the rest of the property this still had signs of its previous occupants. Broken furniture and papers covered the floor and metal cabinets still containing old ledgers and files were lined up along one wall. Bassano opened a drawer and removed a document. It contained pencil sketches of a garden layout showing the patio area, flower borders and a brick barbecue. In another file there were more drawings of tree-lined walkways along what looked like a shopping mall.
‘Why is this lot still here when the rest of the building has been trashed?’ Bassano said.
‘Perhaps even the hobos won’t risk their lives climbing up here.’
She approached Bassano with a piece of paper in her hand.
‘Look at this. It’s a copy invoice for thirteen hundred bucks.’ Bassano took it and read the details on the printed document.
‘So?’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Look at the address.’
Bassano read it out loud, ‘Glandford Landscapes, Main Building, Level 3, Brunswick Industrial Estate.’
‘Yes, it’s the same address but the company name is different. We’re in the right place but no one has been here for years. Let’s check out the other offices,’ Jo said.
They walked out onto the landing and into the other office. This one had much less litter on the floor and was empty of any filing cabinets or furniture. Further along the landing it was the same with the third office.
Bassano leaned against the wall and looked at the printed invoice in his hand. ‘The tech guys were adamant this was the place. I asked them to check it twice because I knew this was a derelict site. We know we’re in the right place because the address on the invoice confirms it. How can that be?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Jo. ‘But one thing is for sure, no telephone counselling went on here.’
‘How’s that?’ asked Bassano.
‘Look around. There are no phone lines.’
31
Lucas wasn’t arranging interviews, nor was he working his head around the tricky problem of how to alert the country clubs without giving the game away about Mechanic. He was pushing the door open on a seedy run-down café wondering what the hell he was going to find on the other side. This was Harper’s favourite place to drink coffee.
Lucas entered from the bright sidewalk and couldn’t see a damn thing. Even when his eyes had adjusted to the low light, he found it difficult to navigate his gaze around the place because of the smoke. It hung from the low ceiling like seaside fog and left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was a long bar running down the left side with a curious mixture of tables and chairs dotted around the room. Nothing matched. It was a haphazard style of interior design. The one thing that did match was the guy serving behind the counter with the haphazard sort of face. His oversized nose, buck teeth and thick black mono-brow gave him the look of a kid’s toy.
Customers were drinking various liquids out of cracked mugs. All the tables had just one occupant – evidently no one had any friends.
A lone woman sat at the bar on a high stool, her lipstick the shade of cherry cola and her skirt the length of cut-off shorts: shorter than her dignity should allow but not short enough for her to care. Her four-inch, leopard-print heels were kicked off and her feet in their black stockings swung free. This was a woman taking a well-earned break from her active profession and from the pain of her friend’s borrowed shoes which were one size too small.
Harper was wedged into a corner under a bowl-shaped light which hung low over the table. Lucas negotiated his way through the maze of assorted furniture while five pairs of eyes watched him cross to where Harper was sitting. He scraped a chair from the next-door table along the floor and sat down.
‘Great place,’ Lucas said, ‘coffee rings on the tables and smoke rings on the ceiling. Very classy.’
‘You can’t see the smoke rings because of the smoke and, anyway, I like it,’ said Harper who fitted into the surroundings as well as the guy behind the counter. ‘You want coffee?’ Lucas nodded.
‘How have you managed to turn stuff up so quickly?’ Lucas was keen to spend as little time there as possible. It would take days for the stink to go from his clothes.
‘Let’s just say I’d already done my homework.’
Lucas noticed Harper’s hand was shaking as he lifted the chipped mug to his lips. He brought the other hand up to steady it so he could take a gulp. It was early in the morning for Harper and the alcohol withdrawal had very noticeable effects at this time of day. Harper saw Lucas looking at his hand and replaced the cup on the table.
‘What do you have?’ Lucas asked.
‘I’m not sure, but I thought we ought to meet up to get this new relationship of ours off on the right foot. So first the facts: Jo Sells graduated from MIT with a first in psychology and went on to do her doctorate in criminology, specializing in psychological profiling. She was a very bright spark indeed but also had a talent for sport and has a list of accolades as long as your arm. She could have become a professional sportswoman but chose the academic route instead. It was during her doctorate that she first met Galbraith.’ He went to take another slurp of coffee but withdrew his hand. The morning was not good for steady coffee drinking.
‘Galbraith was a visiting fellow at the university and mentored her for two out of the four years of her post-grad work. He was so impressed that he seconded her into the FBI Behavioral Sciences Unit at Quantico and employed her when she graduated, which she did with high honours. A year into the job, Mechanic struck for the first time and she and Galbraith were dispatched to support us in the investigation. She was very close to Galbraith and there were rumours that they had something going between them, but there was nothing in it. The people in the know say those rumours were from jealous students trying to do some damage. Nothing more.’
Lucas’s coffee arrived and was banged down on the corner of the table, making it slop over the rim. He looked at the steaming hot drink. In the gloomy light it was difficult to see if it was black or white. He lifted the mug and drank.
Harper continued, ‘Her home life was stable in the early years. Father was in the forces and they moved around quite a bit. Then he got discharged on medical grounds when he was injured in a training accident. He never worked again. Her mother held a number of lower paid roles, moving from office job to office job as her husband took up different postings. Everything was going fine until shortly after he wa
s posted to San Diego when she left him and ran off with a younger guy. The kids were only twelve at the time and Jo had to become the woman of the house. She has a sister, Jessica, who is proving a bit of a mystery and I only have sketchy details. She was also very bright and excelled academically and, just like Jo, was very sporty. They were like carbon copies of each other in terms of achievement. Jessica left college and went into the army and from what I can work out did some pretty tough shit, she was as near as a woman can get to being front-line. She was in the army for six years then had a huge meltdown which resulted in her being kicked out. She’d been a real high-flyer but something very bad must have happened because I’m struggling to get any details on why she was booted out. What I do know is that after she came out she fell off the radar completely. She just disappeared without trace. I’m expecting more info later today but her time in the military is proving difficult.’
‘That’s a lot of digging for such a short period of time.’ Lucas was impressed.
‘Well, like I said, I’d already done my homework. Those are the hard facts, now I’m going to give you the subjective view of Jo Sells. One area where I draw a blank is boyfriends – or girlfriends for that matter. When she was in college she was a complete party animal and put it about. She was the full package and made the most of it, but when she worked at Quantico she supposedly went completely celibate which I for one don’t believe.’ Harper stopped talking and reached for his coffee. He needed the caffeine and sugar to quell the nausea of going cold turkey.
‘Okay, here’s the part that sounds like the ravings of a crazy man going through DTs,’ he said, steadying the cup. He welcomed the coffee’s stabilizing effect.
‘I’m ready for it.’ Lucas was enjoying this.
‘I don’t believe Jo suddenly went off men. I reckon she fell for a guy who she needed to keep under wraps, someone she couldn’t share with the outside world, someone she needed to keep off the grid. I reckon she got involved with Mechanic.’ Harper waited for the peals of derision to come from Lucas, but they didn’t come. He was staring down into his cup of sludge.
‘You’re not laughing,’ Harper said eventually.
‘No I’m not.’
‘It definitely fits. The whole problem with Jo Sells being the leak in the investigation is identifying her motive. If you accept that Galbraith was murdered because he was about to change the profile and expose Mechanic, and if you accept that Jo is the only person close enough to know that was about to happen, then that’s her motive. She wanted to shield and protect Mechanic.’ Harper paused again.
‘That’s a whole lot of accepting,’ said Lucas.
‘Why aren’t you laughing me out of court right now?’ asked Harper.
‘I’m not laughing because we now suspect Mechanic might have a little helper. It looks like that little helper is a woman.’ It was Lucas’s turn to wait for a reaction. He didn’t get one.
‘You think that could be Jo?’
‘I don’t know for sure and it’s a hell of an assumption to make, but it ties up so many loose ends.’ They both sat in silence looking into their coffee mugs.
‘Where do you want me to go next?’ Harper asked.
‘Keep digging. Find out more about her time at Quantico – friends, clubs, societies and trips abroad. If you’re right, she must have met Mechanic around the time she left university and joined the FBI. It gives us more of a defined time window.’
‘I’ll be in touch. This is heavy shit, man,’ said Harper.
Much like this coffee, Lucas thought and headed back to the station.
When he arrived, he found Bassano and Jo poring over reams of printouts in the incident room.
‘Anything good?’ Lucas asked.
‘No nothing. We’re chasing our tails here.’ Bassano had shaken off his lack of sleep but was nursing his wounded pride since Jo had sounded off at him. Okay, so he’d been coming on to her for a while and it had got out of hand, but she didn’t have to bring up his poor training record. He was sulking because deep down he knew she was right on both counts.
‘How was the warehouse?’ asked Lucas.
‘Empty. We chased our damn tails in there as well. It was deserted and not a damn phone in sight. We’re trying to unravel the complexities of GAI Circles Inc to give us a lead on where to go next,’ said Bassano.
‘What do you mean there was no phone?’ asked Lucas.
‘Just that,’ said Jo. ‘The phone company records show the phone is registered at that address but there’s no phone. There aren’t even any phone lines.’
‘Have you rung the number?’ Lucas asked.
‘Yes, it rings fine but not on that industrial estate. Needless to say no one picked up,’ replied Bassano.
‘So what’s this?’ Lucas waved his hand across the mountains of paperwork.
‘Here’s the story so far. The original number belonged to a company called Glandford Landscapes based at this address.’ Bassano showed Lucas the copy invoice taken from the warehouse. ‘It confirms we were in the right place this morning but, believe me, no one has been there in a long time and there’s no phone. We got the billing records from the phone company and, sure enough, they confirm it now belongs to a new company, GAI Circles Inc, which supposedly operates from the same address. The records show incoming calls only to that number but they aren’t itemized which means we can’t identify the callers.’
‘What about the bills? Who takes care of them?’ asked Lucas.
It was Jo’s turn to answer. ‘They’re sent quarterly to a PO Box in Jacksonville which is also registered under the new company name. We’ve had the box checked out and all the bills are there unopened.’
‘Why doesn’t the phone get cut off if the bills aren’t paid?’ Lucas was full of questions.
‘They are paid, by direct debit, from a bank account set up in Jacksonville, and yes you’ve guessed it, the business account belongs to GAI Circles Inc. The account has around two hundred and fifty bucks in it, which at the current rate of drawdown will keep the line active for the next five and a half years,’ replied Bassano.
‘Who’s putting money into the business account to pay for the bills?’
‘No one. The account was set up with four hundred dollars in it and there’s no need to top it up.’
‘Have you checked the state corporate registry to see if they have details?’
‘Yes, they’ve never heard of it. It’s a ghost company which doesn’t file any annual accounts and at the moment only owns a phone number and nothing else.’
‘So, why can’t we just trace the goddamn thing?’ Now Lucas was feeling a little of Bassano’s frustration.
‘We did, through the paperwork, and that led us back to the disused warehouse. The only alternative is to have the line open and active and trace the call that way, but whoever is on the other end isn’t picking up so we can’t find where it is,’ said Bassano.
‘We need to get the technicians and the phone company working on it,’ said Lucas.
‘You won’t find anything,’ said Jo looking up from the mounds of paperwork. She put both her hands to her temples and let out a long sigh. ‘Shit.’
‘What?’ they both said in unison.
‘I said, we won’t find anything.’ She put her hands back on the desk and looked at both of them. ‘Mechanic has set this whole thing up so that if it were to be uncovered nothing would lead back to him.’
‘But, how do you know that?’ asked Bassano.
‘It’s been staring us in the face from the time we discovered the second telephone number. It’s in the company name, GAI Circles Inc.’ She paused and took another deep breath. ‘I think it stands for Going Around In Circles.’
Lucas sat down heavily on a chair.
Jo continued, ‘Mechanic knows that eventually we would uncover the second number and has set this whole thing up to ensure nothing could lead us to him. He’s toying with us, he even gave us a name to play with: GAI Circles.’
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br /> ‘That’s just a coincidence.’ Bassano was annoyed.
‘Is it?’ Now it was Jo’s turn to flash with frustration. ‘Think about it. Why go to the trouble of changing the name of the original company in the first place? He could have set everything up exactly as it is now using the original name, the bank account, the PO Box and the billing address. He could have put it all under the name of Glandford Landscaping. But he didn’t, he changed it, and I think he changed it for our benefit. He’s playing with us. He knew we would get this far and he’s playing with us.’
Bassano retreated under the weight of pure logic.
Jo went back to rubbing both her temples and staring at the desk. Her voice was low and tired. ‘So, by all means, get the technical boys to work their magic but I’m telling you now they won’t find jack shit.’
Jo jumped up and shoved the mound of paper away from her, the other two had the distinct impression she might be right.
32
‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Bassano. All three of them stared in silence at the wads of paper strewn across the desk, wondering just that.
‘We’re not getting anywhere,’ said Jo. ‘Every time we think we have a lead it turns out to be a dead end.’
‘We need to go back to the beginning and retrace our steps to see if we have missed anything – something, anything that will move us forward,’ Bassano replied and then the silence returned.
Lucas was coming to the boil nicely.
He always maintained three golden rules while at work: never lose your temper, never raise your voice and never swear inappropriately. He was in danger of transgressing all three. Even though it was still early afternoon he felt as though he had already done a full day’s work. He had a thumping headache, and a cocktail of frustration and stress was welling up inside him. He balled his hands up into fists and banged them down on the desk making Bassano and Jo Sells jump.