The Killing House

61

Fletcher was closing in on Baltimore, the winter sky beginning its rapid shift into darkness, when he replaced the BlackBerry’s battery and called M.

She didn’t give him a chance to speak. ‘The Feds have accessed Karim’s computer network. I need to shut down, and we need to meet so I can show you the videos.’

‘What videos?’

‘The ones taken inside Karim’s New Jersey beach home,’ M said. ‘I saw what happened to Karim, to Boyd Paulson and Nathan Santiago, all of it.’

Fletcher sat up in his seat. ‘The security software on the laptop in the panic room wasn’t set to record video,’ he said.

‘Correct. You set that software to record, and the hard drive fills up quickly.’

‘Then how did you come by these videos?’

‘I disabled the security software and replaced it with my own — a program that runs in the background. Any time a camera’s motion tracker detects movement, the recording starts, and the video images are temporarily stored on the computer’s hard drive before this program that I wrote compresses the files and uploads them to an FTP server, where they can be downloaded and viewed. That way we have copies in case a laptop is removed from a panic room, or damaged.’

‘Sound?’

‘Inside the house, yes, but not outside,’ she said. ‘I heard the entire conversation between Borgia and Karim. I saw what transpired inside the treatment room. How you intervened and saved Mr Karim’s life.’

‘What happened to Santiago?’

‘A man took him and placed him in the backseat of a Lincoln Town Car — the same man who shot Boyd Paulson inside the garage. The man has some sort of facial disfigurement.’

‘And Dr Sin?’

‘The man pulled a gun on her inside the treatment room. Then he trussed her and placed her in the trunk of the Lincoln.’

‘Alive?’

‘Alive. Hold on.’

On the other end of the line Fletcher heard the tap of computer keys. He thought about Santiago and the doctor. They were alive when they were taken, but where had they been taken?

Then he thought about the netbook. It contained the information downloaded from Corrigan’s phone — addresses and phone numbers, GPS data. The netbook was locked inside the Jaguar’s trunk, and he had no way to access it.

M came on the line and said, ‘The Feds just found the FTP site, but they won’t find the video files. I erased everything.’

‘There’s always a trace.’

‘Not if you know what you’re doing.’ For the first time Fletcher heard a note of anger in her voice. ‘Trust me, they won’t find a bloody thing on the laptop or the server. I need to shut down and get going. What else do you need me to do?’

‘See what you can find out about Alexander Borgia.’

‘I’ve already started,’ she said. ‘Now, when and where do you want to meet?’