There were ways of accessing the deep Web. Just as it was possible to send a robot probe into ocean trenches, exploring realms off-limits to human beings, so it was possible to launch a software robot-a bot, in computerese-into the deep Web. A bot was a program that searched for specific keywords in specific contexts. The search could be as narrow or as broad as the user desired. It could take a long time-hours, even-because the bot was simply set free to follow link after link, collecting any data that matched the search criteria, crawling automatically and unsupervised through myriad uncharted Web pages.
Tess had downloaded a bot program in Denver for use on a case last year. It had spidered across the Web for twenty hours before finally returning the hit she needed, a site unlisted in any of the brand-name search engines. She decided to try it again.
Since this wasn’t her own computer, she had to find the shareware site where she had obtained the bot, then download the software and install it. This took only ten minutes, thanks to a high-speed connection. Next she set the search parameters, trying to include only pages in which "wipe out" was mentioned in conjunction with criminal activity. If she set the parameters too wide, she would haul up a mass of junk she could never sift through. Too narrow, and she might miss what she was looking for.
Before initiating the search, she instructed the program to place any Web links that it found in an online storage service she used, rather than on the desktop’s hard drive. That way she could access the search results from her laptop or any other computer.
When she was ready, she launched the bot. Nothing to do now but wait, maybe get some coffee or something to eat. It occurred to her with a touch of surprise that she had eaten absolutely nothing all day, and it was now nearly seven o’clock. She was about to go in search of a vending machine when the squad room door opened and Andrus walked in.
"Gerry," she said with a smile. "You get the evidence from Larkin okay?"
"I got it," he said, but he looked strangely unsettled, and there was a coldness in his tone she hadn’t heard before.
She frowned. "There a problem?"
"Problem?" He took a chair near her desk and swiveled restlessly. "No problem. What could possibly be a problem?"
Sarcasm was a blunt instrument in his hands. He rarely wielded it.
She shut off the monitor on her computer, leaving the machine at work without a display, and pushed her chair away from her desk. She looked at him, saying nothing. Whatever was on his mind, he would give voice to it soon enough.
"You always have to do things your way," he said, "don’t you, Tess?"
This was so unexpected, so incomprehensible, that she had no answer.
"No one else can be right if they disagree with you. It’s your judgment and only yours that counts. Why is that? Is it because you’re so much smarter than all the rest of us, or do you just think you’re the only one whose intentions are sufficiently pure?"
"I…I don’t know what-"
"You’ve always had this, I don’t know, cowboy streak in you. Black Tiger, for instance. Sometimes I think you actually wanted to go mano a mano with that scumbag. You wanted to be Wyatt Earp at the OK Corral. And last night when you said you were looking for a chance to take down Mobius-you weren’t kidding, were you? You want to be judge, jury, and executioner. You want to make all the rules."
"Gerry-"
"You basically blackmailed me into including you in the EOC briefing. Said you’d investigate on your own if I didn’t go along. You forced my hand, made me tangle with Tennant-and my relations with him were none too friendly to begin with. And after all that, you still weren’t satisfied. You had to start freelancing. You had to go behind my back, behind everybody’s back. Thanks a lot, Tess. Thanks for fucking me over, big time."
"Gerry, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about."
"Don’t you? Okay then, I’ll explain." He leaned forward, the chair creaking on its casters. "A half hour ago the mayor of Los Angeles got a call from the news director at KPTI-TV, Channel Eight. The station’s getting set to run with an exclusive report on, quote, ‘a city under siege. Deadly nerve gas in the hands of a psychotic serial killer.’ Does the mayor have any comment?"
"So it got out," Tess said softly, still not seeing what this had to do with her.
"Yes, it got out. And yes, the mayor did have a comment. He spent fifteen minutes begging the station to kill the story. Mayors don’t like to beg, Tess. They like it even less when they beg and come away empty-handed. The story is set to run as a special report in about half an hour. Be sure to tune in. You can admire your handiwork."
" My handiwork?" Suddenly things were coming together.
"We told you we didn’t want the story out there. You put it out anyway. Tell the people-that’s your mantra, right? The people need to know the truth, they can handle it, they won’t panic. Well, maybe they will, maybe they won’t. Thanks to you, now we’ll all get to find out."
"You think I leaked the story…?"
"Oh, gosh. Did I give you that impression?" Sarcasm again. "Well, possibly the thought had occurred to me, seeing as how you made that eloquent plea for the public’s right to know at the EOC briefing."
"For God’s sake, Gerry-just because of that? Because I made a suggestion?"
"No, not just because of that. KPTI knows things they had to have gotten from you."
"What things?"
"The fire in the chemistry lab. And its connection to this case. You were the only one working that angle."
"In case you’ve forgotten, that’s because I’m the one who made the connection in the first place."
Andrus ignored her. "And then you spilled it to a reporter, along with the rest of the story, so it wouldn’t be hushed up. So you could get your way."
"This is crazy. I’ve only been in town twelve days. How would I have any contacts with the local media?"
"Does the name Myron Levine mean anything to you?"
She almost said no, then realized the name was familiar. "TV guy, used to work out of Denver," she said slowly.
"He interviewed you there, as I recall."
"Not exactly. He tried to. I wasn’t interested."
"Not interested in going on the record, anyway. Off the record-who knows?"
"What are you saying?"
"I’m saying, Tess, that Levine is in LA now, and he’s the one with the story, and you knew him in Denver, and it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together."
"I didn’t talk to Levine. I didn’t even know he was here. And besides, I’m not the only person who knew about the lab."
"Who else knew? Besides me, I mean."
"The cop I was working with." She’d disliked him from the moment she saw him in his cheap suit. "Detective Dodge, West LA. That’s who my money’s on."
"Well, that’s great, Tess. But my money is on you."
"Gerry, you know me…"
"Exactly. I know you. I know that you and Paul Voorhees were more than partners and more than friends. I know what his death did to you. And I know you’ve never been the same. This case-it’s so personal for you, so raw and painful, you’ve lost all perspective. You think it’s just about you and Mobius. You think it’s not a team effort. But it is. And I can’t afford you on the team anymore."
She let a moment pass in the squad room, the silence occupied only by the hum of her computer’s hard drive as the bot continued its search.
"No, Gerry," she whispered.
"I shouldn’t have brought you back in. It was an error on my part."
"It wasn’t."
"I’m sending you back to Denver."
"Please."
He stood. "End of discussion."
"Gerry-"
"I’ll protect you as best I can. I haven’t mentioned your name to the mayor or to anyone else. Officially I have no idea where the leak originated."
"It was Dodge, God damn it."
"If there’s an investigation, I’m sure we’ll look at Detective Dodge and any other possible source. And if my suspicions about you are proved wrong, you’ll have my sincere apology."