“Don’t go there, Vito,” Jen snapped. “It doesn’t help.”
“Brand?” Spandan asked, frowning. “We didn’t talk about branding.”
“One of her students did,” Vito said, making himself breathe. “It wasn’t you two?”
Both students shook their heads. “There are four of us,” Marta said. “We couldn’t find Bruce or John, so we just came ourselves.”
“John was the name Sophie mentioned. John…” Vito closed his eyes. “Trapper.”
Jen sighed. “Hell.”
“Do you know where John lives?” Vito asked, but again they shook their heads. “What does he drive?”
“A white van,” Spandan said immediately. “He gave Dr. J a ride Tuesday night.”
“Because her bike had been tampered with.” Breathe. Think. Then a piece of the puzzle fell into place. “If he was a student, he’d have to pay tuition.” He turned to Brent.
Brent was typing. “Already on it. It would help to know his student number.”
“We don’t know each other’s numbers,” Spandan said. “But the library would have it. He’d need it to check out books.”
“I’ll call the library,” Brent said. “But they’re probably closed.”
Maggy rose from where she’d been sitting. “Perhaps our guests would like a snack.”
Jen’s brows lifted and understanding filled her eyes. “I’ll take them to the cafeteria.”
Marta shook her head violently. “No, I couldn’t eat a bite.”
“They want us to leave,” Spandan murmured. He looked at Vito. “We’ll go back to campus. Please call us as soon as you find her.”
Brent waited until they were gone. “Library’s closed. You want me to find a way in?”
Jen raised her hand. “Wait. Liz had Beverly and Tim run a check on John Trapper. Bev called and told me he checked out, that his medical file listed him as confined to a wheelchair.”
“But we know Simon can change medical files,” Vito said. “If Bev and Tim have seen his medical file, they’ll have whatever Social he’s been using. If he paid tuition or for anything at the university, we can track it to his bank.”
“I’ll call them,” Jen said and sat down at an unoccupied desk as Maggy Lopez approached, her expression sober.
“I’ve got a name at the IRS. Vito, you need to be clear on what happens from here. This is an unauthorized search. Anything we find from this point is fruit from the poisoned tree. It won’t be admissible in court. If you apprehend Simon Vartanian based on what we find next, he could walk on thirteen murders.”
Vito met her eyes. “Let’s just make sure it’s not fourteen.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Saturday, January 20, 10:30
P.M.
Sophie’s body ached. Every one of her muscles was tensed beyond the ability of meditation to relax. There had been an explosion, so loud her ears still rang, so hard that some of the rock had fallen from the walls. She’d quelled the scream before it escaped her throat, but she hadn’t been able to hide the reflexive tensing of her body. If Simon Vartanian came down now, he’d know she was awake.
So she had to relax. She thought of soothing music. She thought of Vito’s Che faro. Remembering the way he’d looked as he sang to Anna… Anna. Please be alive, Gran. Please be safe.
She prayed for Anna. She prayed that Simon had died in whatever exploded.
The ceiling above her head creaked, loud and long, and her heart sank. Simon wasn’t dead. He was walking around up there. So she prayed that he would stay where he was, at least until the tears that seeped from her closed eyes dried.
Saturday, January 20, 11:45
P.M.
Liz set a box down hard on Vito’s desk. “Vito, I thought I told you to go home.”
She frowned at Maggy who sat at Nick’s desk and at Jen who’d pulled a chair up to Vito’s desk and propped her feet on the edge, her laptop on her thighs. Brent had assumed a similar pose and power cords crisscrossed their legs.
“And you three,” Liz accused, “encouraging him, against my orders.”
Jen shrugged. “He got crullers.” She nudged the box with her toe. “Have one.”
Nick came in with another big evidence box. “Hey, crullers. I’m starved.”
Liz’s sigh was exasperated, and had they not found what they’d been looking for, it would not have boded well at all. “Okay, so what’s going on here?”
Vito looked up from his computer screen. “He’s a network engineer.”
Liz shook her head as if to clear it. “Who’s a what?”
“Simon Vartanian is a network engineer.” Vito pulled a sheet of paper from the printer. “We got into his tax records.”
Liz frowned. “How? Or don’t I want to know?”
Jen shrugged. “Brent had a friendly conversation with a fellow computer geek who happens to work for the IRS.”
“Who happened to be a friend of a friend of a friend,” Brent said with a smile at Maggy. “We got the Social Security number Simon used when he enrolled at Sophie’s college as John Trapper. He paid his college tuition by check and that checking account had a number of deposits over the last year. Trapper had his own business setting up computer networks.”
Vito handed Liz the paper. “John Trapper was issued 1099 forms by twenty firms last year.” He shot Liz an ironic look. “He was a frickin’ consultant.”
Vito could see the wheels turning in Liz’s mind. “Who didn’t work for free,” she said.
“No.” Vito smiled grimly. “Not by a long shot.”
“Vito was wondering where Simon was getting all his money,” Jen said. “He was getting his medical care by stealing Frasier Lewis’s medical benefits. But Simon had to have a place to live, some pretty expensive computer equipment, and cash to buy his goodies from Kyle Lombard. Claire didn’t have any money, so he didn’t steal it from her and he didn’t steal it from his parents. So what’s he been living on?”
“Follow the money,” Nick mused with his mouth full of cruller. “Smart.”
“Okay,” Liz said. “I’m hooked. What does a network engineer do, exactly?”
“Well, he sets up networks,” Brent said. “Connects computers in an office to each other and to other systems. All these computers are hooked into the PD’s network. There are files on shared servers you can see if you have access. There are databases you can search, if you have access. The key here is access.”
Liz pulled a doughnut from the box. “Keep talking, Brent. You haven’t lost me yet.”
“Big companies like Philly PD have an internal IT department to set up the networks and make sure everybody can get to the information they need. E-mail accounts, et cetera. But you gotta make sure people have access on a need-to-know basis. Everybody can download medical insurance forms from HR, but a mail clerk shouldn’t get access to AFIS. Jen gets access because she needs to run fingerprints.”
“Big companies have IT departments,” Vito said. “Little companies that have ten employees still need a network, but they hire a consultant to set it up.”
“And Simon was one of these consultants.” Liz nodded. “I’m guessing that Simon didn’t limit his evil deed-doing to his art. He stole from these companies?”
Brent smiled. “Not from the companies. From their clients. Every network has an administrator, the guy who sets up who gets access to what. We’re guessing Simon left a back door open in some or all of these companies’ networks, giving himself admin power. He could go back into their systems at any time to see anything on anybody.”
“Like financials,” Nick said. “The models-Warren and Brittany, Bill Melville and Greg Sanders. That’s how he knew they were desperate for cash. Sonofabitch.”