Fletcher returned to the office. It took him only a few seconds to find the folder holding the company’s completed order forms. He removed the thick stack of paper and then checked the rest of the hanging-file folders. Finding nothing else of value, he slid the drawer shut.
He checked the laptop. The software was still running. He leaned back in the chair and rifled through the stapled sheets. Thirty-six completed orders dating back to early March of last year.
Placing the papers on the desk, he leaned forward, pulled up his left trouser leg and removed the Velcro straps securing the portable scanner to his calf. The wand-size cordless device scanned a black-and-white document in two seconds, storing the images on the unit’s micro-SD card.
He slid the scanner across the first page, then the next. Within four minutes he had scanned all 108 pages. He had to wait another six minutes for the CD software to finish copying the files to his portable hard drive.
His gear packed up and tucked away, Fletcher left through the back door and jogged across the field to retrieve his backpack from the tree.
Having been condemned to a life of constant vigilance, Fletcher was forced to take every conceivable precaution to make sure he wouldn’t be caught. While he had found no evidence to suggest that he had been followed here, he could never entirely dismiss such a possibility. His rental car, locked and parked on the hidden trail in the woods, had been left unattended for the past hour.
Fletcher spent several minutes sweeping the car for listening devices or a GPS-tracking system. Finding it clean, he drove like a man who knew he was being followed. He watched the rearview and side mirrors for any signs of a trail — a task made much simpler by the remote setting and its lack of vehicles — and conducted the normal counter-surveillance measures. Deciding it was safe to return to the airport, he called Karim.
The conversation was brief. Fletcher explained the items he’d recovered. Karim didn’t ask any questions and assured him everything he needed was on board the plane. They picked a meeting spot.
An hour later, Fletcher parked his rental car and made his way across the lot. It was half past five and there was still light in the Alabama sky, the February air still pleasantly cool — a much welcome relief after Chicago’s frigid temperature and biting winds.
He found Karim waiting near a flagpole in front of a brick-faced building. Only waiting wasn’t an accurate description. The man was smoking and pacing at a furious clip, like an expectant father from the time when men weren’t allowed in delivery rooms, leaving him to fret while his wife underwent the world’s most difficult childbirth. Karim, Fletcher knew, always acted this way at the start of a hunt. He kept fuelling the adrenalin with too much coffee and nicotine.
‘Good, you’re here,’ Karim said. ‘I was thinking, this information you recovered — ’
‘You want Miss White to analyse the data I recovered from the company laptop while you and I sort through the scanned documents. It will save time, and possibly allow us to identify our shooter before the plane lands in Chicago.’
‘Either you’ve developed psychic abilities, or I need to develop a better poker face.’
‘You intended to use her from the very start, Ali. That’s why you brought her along.’
‘I’ve come to rely heavily on M’s talents.’
‘That is, of course, your choice. But I won’t be joining you on the return flight.’
Karim’s expression turned stoic. ‘After all our time together, do you honestly believe I’d bring someone into the fold who would put your freedom in danger?’
‘No, I don’t. But you’re not living under the sword of Damocles. A man in my position has to be careful.’
‘I know this woman, Malcolm. I trust her as much as I trust you, which is considerably.’
‘Be that as it may, the three-million-dollar bounty on my head might change her mind.’
‘Your fears are unwarranted. Even if she knew who you really are — and she doesn’t — M would never do such a thing. She’s incapable of it.’
‘ “Passion persuades me one way, reason another.” ’
‘I’m sorry, but I forgot to bring along my copy of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotes.’
‘Clearly this woman has cast some sort of spell on you. You should see the way you simper in her presence.’
Karim chuckled as he dropped the last of his cigarette.
‘I’m not judging you,’ Fletcher said. ‘In addition to being attractive, she projects a rather intense magnetism. Your choice of paramours is your business, but I would suggest you exercise caution.’
‘Oh, and why’s that?’
‘Ali, the woman is young enough to be your daughter.’
‘That she is,’ Karim said, stubbing out the cigarette butt with his heel. ‘She is, in fact, my daughter.’
25
‘My adopted daughter,’ Karim said, fetching the crumpled cigarette pack from his shirt pocket. ‘My simpering, as you called it, is nothing more than the expression of a proud father.’
Fletcher, taken aback by Karim’s admission, said nothing.
During the course of their professional relationship, Karim had made it abundantly clear that he would never remarry, let alone have another child. Burying his son and having to endure the painful mental disintegration of his former wife had banished Karim to a private hell from which few emerged. When he had finally managed to claw his way back to the demands of the living, Karim made the conscious decision to conduct his emotional life from within a fortified prison. He kept people at a distance, and in his private life the handful of women who had aroused his interest had been amputated like a necrotic limb the instant they expressed the wish for a serious emotional connection. Fletcher knew this was partly a coping mechanism but even more an act of self-flagellation. Karim refused to forgive himself for having failed to protect his child.
‘When did this happen?’
‘The adoption? Officially, when she turned sixteen.’ Karim lit his cigarette. ‘No one knows about it. Not even Boyd. I took some rather elaborate and extensive measures to make sure no one could find out. You’re not the only one with powerful enemies, Malcolm.’
Clearly there was more to the adoption story, and Karim’s connection to a woman who had been born and raised on the other side of the pond. Fletcher’s natural investigative instincts prompted him to delve further, but this matter was none of his business, and counter-productive to the issue at hand.
‘How long has she been working with you?’
‘Since she graduated from university,’ Karim said. ‘M came to the States and went to work in my IT department. She lasted about a year. She found the work mundane and tedious, and so asked if she could work directly with me. I hired her as my personal assistant. During that time, I noticed that she possessed a certain unique set of skills, which could be invaluable to my… side projects.’
‘How long?’
‘The last two years. M performs all the computer work so it can’t be traced back to my company.’
‘What’s this “M” business?’
Karim shrugged. ‘That’s what she likes to be called.’
‘And she’s aware of what you and I do?’
‘She’s aware of what I do, yes. That’s how much I trust her, Malcolm. But she doesn’t know about you. I would never betray our confidence.’
Fletcher knew this to be true. Karim was a man of his word.
‘And I would certainly never do anything that might jeopardize your freedom — our freedom, as I’m the one who’s aiding and abetting a known fugitive. I have no doubts concerning M. That being said, I should have told you when we were in Chicago. I know the value you put on your privacy. My apologies.’
‘How much does she know about the case?’
‘She did the data mining on the Herrera family,’ Karim said. ‘At the moment, her knowledge is limited to the information she recovered from the Internet and various databases. She knows I was in contact with Theresa Herrera regarding her missing son. She also knows about the bombing, but I didn’t tell her about your involvement or about the shooter.