I checked my watch. What had Dan said about the hostage reunion? That it was on for another day and a half, which meant I had to get to Paris by tomorrow before noon. Dan’s next flight to Paris would get me there in time. I had no expectation that Roger Fratello would come to a hostage reunion, as Gilbert Bernays or anyone else, not if he was on the run from Drazen. But if he had been on that hijacked flight, then the last people I knew to have seen him would be there. I went back to the table and eased into my chair. The other aches and pains in the rest of my body were beginning to catch up with my head.
“We need to find Roger.”
“Excuse me.” Rachel waved her hand. “Are we forgetting what happens to me if we find Roger?”
“Think about it this way. When Roger tells Drazen that he didn’t kill Vladi but you did, Drazen has no reason to believe him unless he has the video to back it up. I think the first thing to do is find Roger and find out if he has the video. You can help me find him or not, but that’s what I intend to do. Harvey?”
“Yes?”
“You set Roger up for his life on the run. Is there any way you can track him that way? Through these accounts you set up, maybe?”
“I destroyed all my documentation.”
“Destroyed it?”
“I never wanted anyone to find him, nor did I envision any reason to find him myself. For him to come back would have meant a death sentence for Rachel.”
“All right, look. There’s some indication that Roger might have been hijacked.”
“Hijacked?” Rachel was incredulous. Harvey was intrigued.
“Do you remember Salanna 809 from four years ago?” It didn’t matter if they did. “A bunch of people got hijacked to Sudan by terrorists. Some were held onboard for ten days, and most of those were killed. Among the survivors was a man named Gilbert Bernays.”
Harvey’s eyes opened wide. “That’s him. That was one of the aliases we set up for Roger.”
“Good. That’s good to know.” I should have been excited, but I was too worn out. “Gilbert-slash-Roger was on his way to Johannesburg when he got hijacked. Does that give us any clues for how to find him?”
“Forget about all that.” Rachel sounded weary. “I know how to find him.”
“How?”
“Answer his e-mail.”
18
THE CAMBRIDGE CYBER CAFÉ LOOKED LIKE A SHOPPING bazaar in India. The plaster walls were painted the color of Georgia clay. On the floor were baskets full of magazines and throw pillows. If people hadn’t been there to use computers, they probably would have all been sitting cross-legged on the floor and drinking organic ginger beer.
I pulled up to the counter and signed in. The pierced, plaited, and tattooed desk jockey looked down at my name and asked to see a picture ID.
“Just to be sure,” he said. “You’re alone, right?”
I told him I was, and he took me over to a computer in a secluded alcove. A tent card perched on top of the monitor announced that the machine was reserved.
“How did you know I was coming?”
“Dude called.” He leaned across the back of the chair to slap at the keys. “Said you’d be coming and wanted you to sit here.”
I looked around at the other tables and desks. It wasn’t crowded, and the people who were there seemed to be deep into whatever they were doing. “Why here?”
“This one has encryption software on it. You’re set.”
He walked away, and I sat down. He had signed on to a site, clicked on a link to a messaging service, and typed in, “She’s here.” I waited, feeling naked in that situation without Felix either at my side or on the phone, but my instructions had been specific: “Come alone, and stay alone.”
Now there was a response, with the cursor blinking next to it: “alex shanahan?” It was weird. It was as if the monitor were a one-way mirror and whoever was at the other end could see me, but I couldn’t see him.
I typed in my response. “Roger Fratello?”
“answer the question. is this you?” The cursor blinked, and then this appeared: “ ‘…representing Rachel Ruffielo. We are in receipt of your last communication but need positive identification. Who are you, and can you prove it? Please contact ASAP. We want to make a deal.’ ”
I recognized it as an excerpt from the reply I had made in response to Roger’s message, the one Rachel had reluctantly produced after it turned out to be in her best interest. The communication had arrived in Rachel’s in-box several days earlier, and had been the trigger for almost everything else that had happened, including her midnight move and the visit to Harvey. It had been short, blunt, and very intriguing. “Tell me,” it said, “where Vladi is buried or the video goes to Drazen.” Rachel had no idea why Roger would want Vladi’s body, especially after all this time. Harvey had refused to tell her where he buried it. He didn’t want to incriminate her.
“Yes,” I typed. “I am Alex Shanahan, Boston PI representing Rachel. Why do you want location of the body?”
“this is not roger”
I read it, then I read it again. It was a hard sentence to misinterpret. I typed, “My message was response to blackmail threat. Did you send it?”
“message was sitting in out-box. sent automatically when I signed on”
“Who are you?”
“not important”
“Why do you have Roger’s laptop?”
“no comment”
I sat back to contemplate. An e-mail message sits in Roger’s out-box and goes out automatically the next time someone-but not Roger-opens the program. I hadn’t seen that one coming. “If you’re not Roger, how did you sign on?”
“hacked in”
“The account is still active?”
“is that rhetorical?”
Good point. Obviously, it was. I wasn’t sure what to say. I hadn’t prepared for this particular scenario. “Where is Roger?”
“don’t know”
“Just to be clear, you’re not blackmailing my client?”
“not for money but watched an interesting video. explanation?”
Now things were getting tricky. I hadn’t mentioned any video, so he must have found it on Roger’s hard drive. But I had to know his intentions before giving him information. “Hard to give info when I can’t get any in return. Who are you? Why do you have Roger’s computer?”
I hit enter and waited. I didn’t like exchanging information this way. I didn’t even like talking on the phone. I liked seeing the face of the person I was speaking to.
“investigative journalist working on story. came into possession of computer by legitimate means. whom did rachel kill?”
Yep, he had definitely seen the video, and he was another reporter, probably looking for a story. “Have answers to all questions. Makes for a great story. Will trade for laptop with video.”
“who is fratello?”
“Former CEO of Betelco, embezzler, and accused conspirator in a murder. Missing for four years. Possibly hijacked.” That should get his attention.
“hijacked?”
“Can tell you more, but would like to meet and get file back.”
“no way. not even in the country”
Here was the problem with written communication. Did that comment mean “No way will I even consider meeting with you,” or “There is no way I can arrange a meeting with you or anyone else because I’m not even in the country”? I craved inflection.
“Telephone?”
“this is the only way i’ll talk to you. spew or get off”
That took care of the inflection problem. I sat for a long time with my hands resting on the keyboard, long enough that another entry came up from him, one that simply said “?????????????????”