‘They’re planning an unannounced visit as we speak. The Bureau doesn’t source from Constant Global Surveillance, but the federal correctional system does. Their contract stipulates that CGS’s lab facilities are “open to quality audits conducted by the customer”. There’s no requirement for advance notice. The Chicago Field Office has agents en route. Hopefully they’ll get there before the lab shreds their records.’
‘So what are we thinking?’ Scarlett asked. ‘That someone inside CGS is smuggling working devices out of the factory and selling them on the black market? It doesn’t seem like it would be financially worth the risk. These trackers only sell for a few hundred bucks apiece.’
‘To legitimate buyers,’ Deacon said. ‘I imagine that anyone who’s purchased a human being through traffickers will pay a good bit more than a few hundred bucks to protect their investment. You can’t buy trackers like this on eBay.’
Scarlett shook her head. ‘Maybe. It still doesn’t seem worth the risk for the guy in the lab to steal them at a rate that would make him any money. If he “destroys” too many during testing, somebody’s going to notice. To keep from being caught, it would have to be an every-now-and-then thing. Unless he’s not stealing these units for the money. What if he’s being forced to provide them?’
Deacon nodded. ‘Extortion is a definite possibility. I’ll get backgrounds on anyone who had access to the units made around the same time as this one. We’ll see if anyone pops, then start with that person and follow the trail. Hopefully to whoever bought this unit.’
‘Which was about to give up the ghost when Vince cut it off Tala’s leg,’ Scarlett said.
‘Yeah, I heard. I was on hold when you two were discussing that part, so I listened in. Before we go on to the rest of the evidence,’ Deacon said, pointing at the bin Vince held on the worktable, ‘I have another question about the tracker. Does it transmit sound or just GPS signal?’
‘Well, it depends on who you ask. Constant Global Surveillance’s website claims it can be used to buzz the wearer – like a phone in vibrate mode. The buzz is used to remind the wearer of appointments with his parole officer, things like that. But some models can record or transmit live conversations without the wearer knowing it.’
‘Holy Big Brother, Batman,’ Scarlett muttered. ‘Defense attorneys must’ve had a field day with that.’ And of course the mere mention of defense attorneys had her remembering what Bryan had said just hours before. Trent Bracken, a goddamn killer, was going to defend actual people in an actual court. Not now, Scarlett. Pay attention. For Tala. ‘Can this tracker do that? I mean, could someone have overheard Marcus talking to Tala in the park?’
‘Quite possibly,’ Vince said. ‘I was getting ready to take this one apart to find out what other goodies it’s got when you two came in. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Marcus was afraid that Tala had been beaten because he’d tried to talk to her. If someone was listening in while she walked the dog, he could be right. We need to know what precipitated the beating – if it was over Marcus or something unrelated.’ She pointed to the evidence bin. ‘So what’s in there?’
‘Everything else the victim was wearing or carrying.’ Vince lifted the lid, identifying each bagged item as he put it on the worktable. ‘Blue jeans, polo shirt, shoes, socks. Crucifix on a necklace chain. Dog treats. And this.’ He held up a small plastic evidence bag. ‘Ten grams of cocaine. I should have lab results on the purity in a few hours.’
Scarlett frowned. ‘The alley where I found her is drug-dealer central, but Carrie didn’t find any evidence of drugs in her system.’
Vince made no comment as he put the bag of coke on the table and took three more bags from the bin, silently holding them up for Scarlett and Deacon to see.
‘A pacifier, a teething ring and a baggie filled with Cheerios.’ Scarlett’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. ‘For her baby.’
‘The dog treats and the coke were in her left pocket,’ Vince said quietly, ‘the baby things in her right.’
‘The baby’s at least eight or nine months old if she was giving him Cheerios,’ Scarlett said, hardening her voice so that it didn’t waver.
Vince looked surprised. ‘I didn’t know you knew anything about babies, Scarlett.’
She lifted a shoulder. ‘I’ve got six nieces and nephews. Difficult not to pick up a few things here and there.’
Deacon cleared his throat. ‘Can you get DNA off the pacifier, Vince?’
‘I already took a sample off the pacifier and the teething ring.’
Deacon nodded once. ‘Good. If we don’t find the child with her captors, at least we’ll be able to show that her child was with her at some point. Was there anything else in her pockets?’
Vince shook his head. ‘Nothing. No keys, no money, no ID.’
Scarlett caught Vince’s arm as he started to put the baby things back in the bin. ‘Wait.’ She took the pacifier and held it under the light on the worktable. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, pointing to three black smudges on the pacifier’s ring.
‘Magic Marker,’ Vince said. ‘But it’s too worn away to see what it used to say.’
She took the pacifier from the bag, then bent closer to the light, squinting at the smudges. ‘Can I see your glass?’ She held out her hand and Vince dropped the magnifying glass into her palm. ‘There are three distinct smudges,’ she said, ‘about the same space apart. They might have been circles originally. And . . .’ She squinted harder, tilting the pacifier one way, then the other, trying to catch the right light on the surface of the plastic ring. ‘Colors,’ she murmured. ‘Tiny leftover pieces of color. Red and blue and . . . yellow? Or maybe green. Each to the left of the black smudged circle.’
‘Other magic markers?’ Deacon asked.
Absently she nodded. She recognized this pattern, but the memory was hovering on the edge of her mind, just out of reach. And then her brain made the connection. Holy shit. Abruptly she straightened, her pulse hammering in her head as she met her partner’s curious stare. ‘Oh my God. He was wrong.’
Deacon’s head was tilted. ‘What? Who?’
‘Marcus. He was wrong,’ she said, her words coming out way too fast. ‘Do you ever watch Wheel of Fortune?’
Deacon blinked, then nodded warily. ‘Yes, quite often recently. Turns out Faith is a closet fan of Pat and Vanna. Why?’
‘You know those people who can solve the puzzle with one letter?’
‘I hate those people,’ Vince muttered. ‘They spoil all the fun.’
Scarlett pointed to herself. ‘Well I’m one of those people. These black smudges could have been lower case a’s. The blue, red and yellow – other letters. Blank “a” blank “a” blank “a”. Malaya. Somebody wrote “Malaya” on this pacifier. What if it doesn’t mean “freedom”? What if it’s a name?’
Deacon’s eyes widened as realization dawned. ‘When Tala said “Help Malaya”, she wasn’t asking Marcus to help free her family.’
Scarlett swallowed hard, Tala’s final plea taking on an even deeper meaning. ‘She was asking him to save her baby.’
Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 9.15 A.M.
Drake snarled when his cell phone’s ring tone pulled him out of a sound sleep. He opened one eye and groaned. Stephanie’s throwaway phone. ‘This better be damn important,’ he barked. ‘You woke me up.’
‘He knows,’ Stephanie whispered harshly. ‘He came to my room and took my iPhone. Slapped me. Hard. He knows I took Tala out of the house last night. He kept asking me why.’
Drake sat up in bed, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Did you tell him?’ he asked softly.
‘No!’ It was a hissed whisper. ‘I didn’t. I swore I didn’t know what he was talking about, even when he hit me again. But I don’t know how long I can hold up.’