When she was done with that part of her story, she went back and talked about the disappearance of Maria Santacristina. She then proceeded chronologically up to what she and Fulton had discovered so far, such as Huttington reporting his car stolen two days after Maria disappeared. However, she left out the photograph she'd received from Maly Laska to see how they would react to Katarain's theory that his daughter's disappearance was connected to Huttington turning on O'Toole.
"He thinks Huttington is being blackmailed," Marlene told the Irregulars. "The prosecutor-a really sharp guy named Dan Zook-is interested in the case, but doesn't think he can get an indictment without a body."
Up to that point the members of the Baker Street Irregulars had remained silent, just sitting back and listening or scribbling notes on pads of paper. But now they started to pepper her with questions.
"What, other than her father's story, do we have to indicate Maria didn't run away?" Gates asked. "It wouldn't be the first time that a young woman leaves without a trace to escape…possibly from sexual abuse by her father."
Marlene knew that the question would come; the Irregulars left no stone unturned in these briefings and that included asking the tough ones. But she hated hearing it.
"I'd like to say that I think I have enough of a sense of her father to know that he had a great relationship with his daughter," she replied. "But I know you guys are scientists and this is about 'just the facts.' So I wanted to give you that background. But now I want to show you a photograph I was given recently by a young woman who had accused Rufus Porter of raping her at the party that lies at the heart of the accusations against Mikey O'Toole. This photograph was sent to her with a message to get out of town or this would happen to her, too."
"You said 'had accused'?" Adare asked.
"She left after getting this photograph and now lives in hiding," Marlene replied, and told the group about what had happened in that case with the evidence and changing stories. "I believe that this photograph is the key to finding Maria and bringing justice to her and her father…and maybe Mikey O'Toole."
"Amen," Swanburg said, and winked at Marlene. He pressed a button on a remote control and the lights in the room went out except for the photograph that now appeared on the screen at the front of the room.
Marlene was impressed with the clarity of the digital reproduction, which had been blown up to fill the entire screen. The photograph had been taken from above and perhaps fifty feet from where four individuals, apparently all men but wearing handkerchief masks and hats pulled low over their eyes, were posing in front and somewhat to the side of a large sedan. They were dressed in matching white wifebeater undershirts with baggy jeans held up by suspenders. Three of them had their arms crossed gangster style, but the man on the left had his right arm extended and was holding up a beer as if they were tailgating at a football game.
Because the photograph was taken from some height, the group could see that a pit had been dug in front of the car, apparently by the backhoe that could be seen belching a cloud of black smoke in the background. They could not see beyond the top three feet of the pit, but it appeared to be deep.
"It would have to be deep to cover a car," James Reedy mumbled as though to himself.
"And not just any car-a 2002 or 2003 Cadillac Eldorado, I believe, though tough to be absolutely sure of the year from this angle," Adare said. Someone whistled and he mimed a little bow in his seat. "What can I say. Number two hobby after aerial photography is Caddys. I own three. A cherry 1956 Coupe DeVille. A 1985 Biarritz. And a 2004 Eldorado just about like that one. What year did you say Huttington's car was, Marlene?"
"I didn't, because I don't know," she answered. "But anybody want to place a bet on whether the one in the photograph is a match?"
"Not I," said Gates, who squinted up at the screen. "Say, Jack, can you blow up the driver's-side window area behind these nitwits?"
Swanburg did as asked, focusing on a narrow space between the bodies of two of the men and enlarging the space beyond to bring it into view. Staring out with wide, horrified eyes at the men and women sitting in the room, a young woman sat in the driver's seat, a silent plea on her lips.
"Poor girl," Gates muttered, and bowed her head as if in prayer.
"Maria Santacristina," Marlene said quietly. She had no idea how she was going to summon the emotional capital to tell the girl's father about the method of her execution. It would have been a horrible death.
"Jack, can you back up a bit and go to the right arm of the asshole holding up the bottle," Adare requested. "I think we may have what cops call an identifying mark. I'd like a better view."
Again, Swanburg fiddled with the control and zoomed in on a tattoo on the area inside the man's bicep. It looked like three interlocking triangles.
"Sort of a stylized mountain range," Swanburg ventured.
"It's called a Valknut," Lucy said quietly. "I saw one just a month ago." She explained the triskele and the relation to its distant cousin the Valknut. Then, reluctantly, she revealed her last conversation with Cian Magee and the circumstances of his death.
"Do you think this group the Sons of Man are also involved in the death of Maria Santacristina?" Gates asked incredulously. "What are the odds of that?"
"Statistically improbable," Reedy answered.
Lucy nodded. "I think so, too," she said. "Cian told me that the symbol has been appropriated by neo-Nazi and Aryan groups, and there are certainly plenty of them in Idaho. But I don't see a connection to the Sons of Man."
"Okay, that part's not important," said Swanburg. "For the purpose of this investigation, it doesn't matter who is involved at the moment, what matters to us is finding Maria's body. Otherwise, the tattoo just gives the police something to hang their hat on if we can ever accomplish our mission. So, ladies and gentlemen, any ideas on where this photograph was taken?"
"Well, that's definitely a flood basalt geological formation," Reedy said. "See that thin black layer just under the sediment on top, probably no more than four or five inches thick? That's lava, a classic low-viscosity flow."
"What else?" Swanburg asked.
"Well, I'm not the botanist here, but that appears to be a conifer forest in the distance, so if I had to hazard an educated guess as to location, this is typical of our Pacific Northwest," Reedy replied. "A couple billion years ago, there were a zillion big and little volcanoes all over that part of the continent, pumping out lava that cooled into layers like you see in the photograph. It also breaks down into a really rich soil that will support conifer forests."
"Could this be the area around Sawtooth, Idaho?" Marlene asked.
Reedy nodded. "Very likely. You see it a lot around Coeur d'Alene and this is close. We'll want to get whatever the Idaho government has for state geologic maps. They're color-coded and we'll be able to see where the lava flows were in that area to be sure, but I'd be very surprised if Sawtooth isn't sitting on top of a lava veneer."
"The area around the car looks like it could be a dry riverbed-with all those little hills and gullies and not much vegetation except over on the sides and in the distance," Gates noted.
"You could be right," Reedy acknowledged. "But right now, I'd say we're looking at a gravel pit."
Suddenly the professor jumped up out of his chair and ran up to the screen. He pointed to the far right corner of the photograph.
"Right there, Jack, blow up that corner, please!" he exclaimed. When it was done, he shouted and danced a little jig. "Holy shit!!"
"What?" the others asked in unison. They were all looking at what appeared to be a giant Erector set dinosaur. There was a long, thin neck of steel framework that ended with an enormous jawed head. That apparatus was supported by a large body made of wood and steel and appeared to be about the size of a railroad car; the whole structure was perched on massive bulldozer-like tracks.