Неизвестный - 4. Justice In The Shadows

“Good. There’s even a chance she’ll come home soon.” Saying the words made Sloan feel uncharacteristically superstitious, so she quickly moved on. “What are you doing?”

There was a beat of silence, then, “Phishing for addresses on our Internet ‘friends.’”

Sloan understood that to mean he was trying to pin down the on-line pedophiles the team had been tracking. Phishing referred to the practice of hijacking confidential information from on-line consumers by pretending to be a legitimate business updating a common account, such as AOL or Paypal. An individual would receive an e-mail claiming that there had been a problem with the billing of the consumer’s account and directing the consumer to click on a hyperlink in the body of the e-mail for the “Billing Center.” When the consumer clicked on the link they landed on a site that looked completely legitimate, but when they entered their confidential financial or personal data, it would be relayed back to the Internet thief.

“Finding anything?”

“Might be.”

Sloan caught her breath. “How about we discuss this at the office?”

“Sure. When?”

“Now.” Sloan hung up, her fatigue magically dissipating. She was ready to hunt.

At seven-thirty Rebecca settled into a plain office chair in the drab institutional room and nodded perfunctorily to the middle-aged man seated across from her.

“Good morning, Sergeant,” he said.

“Dr. Whitaker.”

“I was a bit surprised to find that you had scheduled more sessions with me.”

Rebecca shrugged. “My paperwork isn’t quite in order, and Captain Henry won’t assign me to any regular duty because of it.”

“Ahh…I see. So I’m the sticking point.”

“Yes.”

He asked the usual routine follow-up questions, to which she answered with the obligatory neutral responses. Near the end of the session, he asked, “And how is Dr. Rawlings?”

“She’s fine.” Rebecca held his gaze, refusing to reveal her surprise at the unanticipated turn in the conversation.

“How does she feel about your job?”

“Why does it matter?”

“One major source of stress in a police officer’s life is conflict at home. There is very often domestic discord stemming from the erratic work hours or complaints of…emotional absence.”

His words hit close to the mark, and Rebecca colored. “I’m not stressed.”

“Then you may be the only officer who isn’t.” Whitaker smiled slightly.

“What do you know about Catherine?” she asked abruptly. Never let the witness lead the discussion. Always take the offensive position.

Whitaker blinked. “Uh…I know you met during the serial rape case. I know that you saved her life.” A beat passed while he visibly regrouped. “And I suspect that you’re lovers.”

“Why?” Rebecca’s tone was laser-sharp.

“You haven’t denied a personal relationship, and every time her name comes up, you become defensive. No…not defensive. Protective.” He smiled. “Which is what you do, after all, isn’t it, Sergeant?”

“That’s the job description.”

“Does she mind what you do?”

“Her name does not belong in your report. If you want me to come back for another session, you had best see that it isn’t.” And you want me to come back, don’t you? You want something from me.

“You have my word.” He leaned forward. “Is she bothered by your job?”

“We’re not going to discuss Catherine Rawlings.” Rebecca glanced at her watch. “And it’s time for me to go.”

“We have another minute or two. Would you quit if she asked you to? Theoretically, of course.”

“What difference does that make, theoretically?”

“It says a lot about you.”

Rebecca stood and pointed to the gold shield exposed on the flap of the leather badge case which protruded from her breast pocket. “That says all you need to know about me.”

“I don’t agree, Sergeant,” he rejoined softly.

“Your prerogative.”

As Rebecca reached for the door, she heard the quiet words from behind her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

She turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped out into the hall. She didn’t want him to see her face, because she was afraid he’d realize that she didn’t know the answer.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Rebecca walked directly from Whitaker’s office to the vice squad division. As she had come to expect, even though it daily continued to shock her, Watts was already at his desk. “Anything new?”

“The computer cops want us to come over.”

Twenty minutes later, they were buzzed into Sloan’s building. Jason, Sloan, and, to Rebecca’s surprise, Mitchell as well, were all seated at computer stations, cups of coffee on the counters beside them.

Glancing at Sloan, Rebecca raised an eyebrow. “How are things at the hospital?”

Despite the creases of fatigue in her forehead and the shadows marring her cheeks, Sloan’s eyes were sparkling. “Much better. Thanks.”

“Glad to hear it. So, what’s up?”

“Jason,” Sloan said, “why don’t you bring them up to speed.”

“Yesterday afternoon,” Jason explained, “I made a list of all the e-mail addresses of people who used to chat with LongJohnXXX on a regular basis, figuring that some of them must be subscribers to the porn videos. Unfortunately, the list is long, and there’s no way of knowing at this point how many of the individuals are locals. There’s also no way to know if they really have anything at all to do with the porn ring.”

“But?” Rebecca could hear the excitement in his voice.

“But once I get names and addresses, it shouldn’t be that difficult to find out other things about these guys. I can put together profiles, and we can do the same thing we did with Long John. Maybe we’ll get another hit.”

Rebecca looked skeptical. “It’s a long shot.”

“It’s not like we have a lot else going on right now,” Jason responded, looking not the least bit deterred. “Once we have some probables, I thought Catherine might look at them. She can…sense things. She’s a great profiler.”

Rebecca opened her mouth to say no, and clamped her jaws tight instead. She rubbed the bridge of her nose where a headache was forming. There seemed to be no way at all that she could keep Catherine away from the investigation. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“Anything new at the cop shop?” Sloan inquired.

“Let’s go back to the conference room for a briefing,” Rebecca suggested. “I’ve got some ideas.”

Once they were all settled around the table, Rebecca studied her team, knowing that she had to make a decision now as to how much she would share. Two people present were civilians, one was just a rookie cop, and what she had to say was beyond sensitive. But all of them were willing to walk on a high wire without a net in the name of justice. She owed them her trust.

“Sandy gave me a lead last night. It’s not much, but she thinks she might have seen the guy in the porn video at this sex club called Ziggies.”

“Whoa, that’s choice,” Watts exclaimed. “That place is supposed to be mobbed up.”

“Can Sandy work the place?” Sloan asked immediately. “It would be good to have someone on the inside there.”

Mitchell’s face turned white. “You want her to turn tricks in there for information? Why don’t you just shoot her instead? At least that would be quick and painless.”

Sloan jerked around in her seat to stare at Mitchell, shocked by the ourburst.

“Officer, you’re out of line,” Rebecca shot out, watching Mitchell carefully. The young officer stared straight ahead, her back ramrod stiff, her neck flushed. She was controlling her anger, but just barely. “Unfortunately, I think Sandy’s too well-known there. If she starts hanging out for no good reason, especially if she’s talking around, someone will notice.”