Pied Piper

CHAPTER 24

Boldt sequestered himself in his office, phones off, to decide what to do, well aware that whatever his decision, it would determine not only his future but his daughter’s as well.

The weather did not coincide with his mood, the heavy cloud cover having given way to warm sunlight the color of daffodils. He pulled down the office’s slatted blinds to darken the room, but ended up with a striped floor, desk, walls and chair, surrounded appropriately enough in a cage of light. Jailed, just as he felt.

The kidnapper might have asked for money; for all of Boldt’s worldly goods; he might have asked that Liz use her banking authority in some way, a false account, a fake loan; but instead he asked the impossible: that Boldt subvert an investigation.

In the balance hung his daughter’s life. There was not, therefore, any decision to be made-the choice was obvious. And yet Boldt found himself engaged in debate, understanding how the Pied Piper had kept from being caught, had frustrated Flemming and his team, had moved city to city with a license to pluck infant children from their parents’ arms. It was no wonder he hadn’t been caught, that investigators had so few leads; the deck had been stacked in each city.

Once committed, there was no turning back. His powers far-reaching, the lieutenant of Intelligence had only to pick up the phone to initiate interdepartmental wiretapping. If he were to compromise the investigation, then he needed every piece of it, every whisper, every consideration. Information was everything. He had to know it all. He ran the names off to the civilian who ran Tech Services: “Hill, Mulwright, LaMoia, Gaynes, Lofgrin.” He waited for some kind of acknowledgment. When the man on the other end failed to speak, Boldt said, “Do you have that?”

“I’ve got it. Record all of them,” he stated. “Twenty-four hour loops or real time?”

“Real time.” He added, “What happened to live monitoring?”

“This is too many lines, unless you can provide the personnel.”

“No other choices?”

“AI,” the man offered, “artificial intelligence. It’s a new system, prone to bugs, but we’ve used it a couple times to good effect.”

“You lost me.”

“The software monitors the phone lines, listening for key words. You put in ‘coke’ or ‘smack’ and if the words come up, the conversation is flagged. When it works, it works beautifully, but the bugs aren’t out. It crashes from time to time; I gotta be honest with you.”

He ordered the phone lines monitored by AI.

To wiretap lines out of office required warrants, and therefore a visit to a judge. Boldt worked with only one judge, the most liberal in the state-this judge had been passed to him by the former lieutenant of the squad, like a mentor.

After hearing Boldt’s arguments, viewing the numbers requested and understanding their significance, the judge asked only one question of him. “I take it you see no other way to monitor the situation, or you wouldn’t ask.”

“There’s an insider,” Boldt said blankly, knowing full well he was describing himself. “Has to be. Someone compromising the investigation. Steering it off course. We find that person, and the investigation just might have a fighting chance.”

The gray head nodded. The pen came out of the drawer. The signature went down. Boldt had authority to wiretap the FBI.

“They have ways of protecting themselves from such things, don’t they?” the judge asked.

“The warrant gives us access to the landlines themselves. I’m told by our tech people that it makes all the difference. We go through the US West switching station.”

“I don’t care who you go through, the shit’s going to fly if they get onto this. You and I are going to be right in the middle of it, and that means you,” he warned.

“He who complains the loudest is the first person we investigate,” Boldt countered. It’s me, he wanted to say. But who would listen? Lou Boldt compromise a task force investigation? Not likely.

He did it for Sarah, he reminded himself repeatedly. For Liz. For the family. But with each step he took toward his darker side, he questioned his decision. And he knew even then that before long, he would wish that he could take it all back.