For some years, the Italian police had been nurturing the use of a sophisticated computer system that reproduced crime scenes with startling realism, recreating everything from the path of a bullet to the movement of a corpse.
'Call RiTriDEC and tell them to go ahead. I will have the paperwork with them by early afternoon,' said Massimo, referring to the special laboratory in Rome known as the Ricostruzione Tridimensionale della Dinamica dell'Evento Criminale.
Orsetta was a big fan of the system. It worked by devouring all the crime scene data available, everything from traffic-camera video footage to the measurements a pathologist might make during an autopsy. Once everything was fed in, it would recreate crime scenes in 3D pictures on giant video screens in a special theatre. Experts like Orsetta were then able to examine the pictures, almost like art critics, studying every screen pixel for a clue that might lead them to their killer.
Massimo called her to the other side of his desk. 'Benito has patched through an FBI feed of the video footage that Jack spoke about. I have it now on the computer.'
Neither of them spoke as they watched Tariq el Daher's report. Orsetta made notes and was the first to break the silence. 'Just because there's a copy of USA Today in that video it doesn't mean the location is in America. You can pick that paper up in a hundred places in Rome.'
'Or indeed on a plane landing in Rome,' added Massimo. 'Jack might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I wish we could have discussed this with him.'
Orsetta nodded. She felt exactly the same way. As far as she was concerned, Jack King and the FBI were still ignoring the elephant in the room.
55
Montepulciano, Tuscany Montepulciano stood out against an early-evening sky as beautiful and mystical as a fortified medieval settlement drawn in a kid's book of fairy tales. From its lofty perch on a limestone ridge, six hundred metres above sea level, it watched majestically over Italy's magic kingdom of Tuscany.
Nancy King had briefed Paullina, her waitress-come-guide-for-the-day, to make sure the photo-happy Mr Terry McLeod got to focus his lens on every corner of the town. And Paullina had been as good as the promise she pledged to her boss.
First, she made him walk the last part of the famous Corso, which starts at Porta al Prato and winds its way for more than eleven kilometres up to the top of the town and the huge open square of the Piazza Grande. They took a late lunch in the open air at Trattoria di Cagnano, where Paullina made the mistake of insisting that he try the local vino de nobile. McLeod enthusiastically complied. He drank most of the bottle, along with a brandy to polish off a hearty plate of pasta and a slice of torte large enough to wedge open one of the town hall's giant doors.
After lunch, she guided him along the sixteenth-century town walls designed by the Grand Duke Cosimo I de' Medici. He stopped once to take photographs, once to make phone calls and once to relieve himself of his surfeit of strong red wine.
Paullina showed him the church of Santa Maria delle Grazie and, just before they left, the Sanctuary of the Madonna of St Blaise on the outskirts of the town.
He was far less interested in church architecture than he'd led her to believe, and seemed more intent on finding out everything and anything about the lives of her employers.
As promised, Paullina telephoned Nancy just before they got in the taxi for the return journey home. She gave a full report of what they'd seen and what they'd done. After ending the call with Paullina, Nancy turned to Carlo. They were both standing inside the bedroom of supposed tourist Terence T. McLeod, Nancy having used the staff key to let them in. He was no more a tourist than she was, of that she was sure.
Nancy had agonized about whether she should break her guest's right to privacy by going through his room and his belongings while he was out. In the end, she'd subscribed to her father's old maxim that it was 'far better to say sorry than ask permission'. Surprisingly though, their search had turned up absolutely nothing to support her superficial dislike of him or her deep-rooted suspicion that he might have been the intruder in her bedroom.
'What do you think?' she asked Carlo.
The hotel manager shrugged. 'It was dark when it happened. And you say yourself that you never saw the man, because of his mask. We have found nothing that shows it was Signor McLeod.' He looked at her sympathetically; he was aware that she had been badly spooked by the incident. 'I can only think, Signora King, that you may have made a mistake. It seems our Signor McLeod is what he says he is. An American tourist. And in my experience, sometimes they can be much stranger and far more trouble than any burglar.'
56
Pan Arabia News Channel, New York Tariq el Daher looked out over the hazy New York skyline while he tried to decide exactly how long he should keep the two FBI agents waiting. He checked his watch; it was a little after 11.30. Was twenty minutes enough to show them that he was in control and that things happened as and when he wanted them to? Or should he go for a full hour, to make sure that at least this government agency took Pan Arabia seriously in future and had the politeness to return its calls and treat it with the same respect they extended to the likes of Fox and CNN?
Tariq sent his PA to make him more coffee and asked her to tell the Feds that he was very busy and would do his best to fit them in as soon as possible. He drank the coffee while he finished reading the morning newspapers. He smiled to himself. Tomorrow, they would be full of quotes from him, and probably a photograph or two as well. He hoped they used the one taken a few years back at a press dinner when he had been presented with the special award for investigative journalism.
Tariq fully anticipated that all the news media, be it newspapers, TV or magazines, would steal screen shots of the girl from the video report he'd put together, so he'd already instructed Pan Arabia's lawyers to issue a legal copyright warning and circulate a range of digitally enhanced photographs that the press could use for free, providing of course they credited Pan Arabia. Yes, tomorrow all the hacks will be scavenging on his scoop, he was sure of that. He smiled once more, this time at the thought of them having to search for his long-forgotten phone number and wonder if he'd deign to speak to them. First though, he would have to put up with annoying meetings with the FBI and the NYPD. The tame cop he'd used to help stand up the story in the first place was now going crazy, claiming he'd been quoted out of context and threatening to bust Tariq's balls for getting him in so much trouble. Tariq wondered whether he'd also give him back the $500 he'd asked for in return for the interview. Somehow he thought not.
After forty minutes Tariq instructed his PA to show the agents through to the executive boardroom. Then he changed his mind. He decided instead that he'd see them, along with the company lawyer, in the smallest of all the ground-floor meeting rooms, the one usually reserved for junior reporters who were sent downstairs to get rid of potential time-wasters.
Ryan Jeffries from Legal met him in his office and they rode the elevator together. Fifty-year-old Jeffries had been round the block more times than a yellow cab and there wasn't anything about media law that he either didn't know, or couldn't find a way round.
'Good morning, officers,' said Tariq energetically as he pushed open the glass door to the cramped room. 'I'm Tariq el Daher and this is my Head of Legal Affairs, Ryan Jeffries. Sorry to have kept you waiting.'
Howie's first glance showed the obvious contempt that he had for both of them. 'Senior Supervisory Special Agent Howie Baumguard and Special Agent Angelita Fernandez.'
They all settled around a cheap wooden table that was so flimsy it almost buckled when Howie thudded his meaty arms down on it. Tariq sat back in his seat while Jeffries went in to bat. 'Mr el Daher and the channel have already made a statement to the New York Police Department, who we understand have operational control. We have delivered a copy of the material we uncovered and we will continue to assist the NYPD to the very best of our ability. Mr el Daher is, as you know, an extremely busy man and we do not think it necessary to waste his time with repetitive processes.'