Chapter 25

Everybody looked up when Don and I appeared in the door to the conference room. "Megan," Don said, "I need your help with something." Then he turned back to me and said, "Thanks, Maggie. I'll let you know what we find out."

I tried to look coolly professional, but on the inside I was doing a happy dance. I grinned at Ben when I sat back down. "I found something Don thought might be helpful. He's checking it out now. How are you guys doing?"

I glanced from Ben to Charlie to Farnsworth, and could tell it wasn't going well. At least I didn't see any blood. But Charlie looked like he had run out of ways to explain two plus two equals four to a newborn. Farnsworth spoke first, "They're trying to explain this to me, but I'm afraid I don't have a head for all this arithmetic stuff."

"I don't either," Ben said, "but you have to admit Charlie's results are astonishing."

"True," Farnsworth said grudgingly. "I had read about Hany Farid's work a few years ago, but didn't realize anyone was still pursuing it. After a big splash in a few journals, and a couple of TV and radio interviews, there was nothing but silence. I figured it hadn't panned out. But this," he gestured at Charlie's computer. "This does seem impressive. I'd like to see it tested with more paintings. Maybe," he glanced at Ben with raised eyebrows, "a few John Singer Sargents."

"I'd welcome that challenge," Ben said quietly.

I shook my head and went back to my folders. The next few McLaren interviews were as useless as the first few had been. I was skimming the interrogation of a small time fence, when I heard Emma whistle softly. I looked up to see her smiling as she read one of the reports from Don's drug bust. She glanced at Colby and David, and realizing she already had their attention, said, "This gang member, Antonio Cruz, he's been in Boston."

"Really?" David said. "You sure it's the same guy?"

She nodded. "I'm pretty sure. Let me call my office and have them fax me the information." When she had completed her call, she said, "We'll know in a few minutes."

"What was he doing in Boston that made him that memorable to an FBI agent?" Colby asked.

"He was conferring with a few of our local, low level mobsters. It was the first time I was aware of your Crips dealing with our mob, so it caught my attention. I did notify your office. They were very careful, and even though we knew they were meeting, we weren't able to find out what they were meeting about. I assumed it was drugs coming our way. Colombia to Los Angeles is a lot more common than Colombia to Boston."

"True," Colby said. "Sometimes it seems like we're the port of entry for everything coming out of Colombia."

Don and Megan returned, looking grim. "I tried contacting Fred McLaren, but there's no answer at his house, and his cell phone was disconnected. I tried his office, but, of course it's Sunday and sane people aren't working."

"Why are you trying to find McLaren?" David asked.

"Maggie thought his interrogations of the Gardner persons of interest were poor. He asked all the wrong questions. He didn't ask follow up questions when an interviewee said something strange. I checked his personnel file, and he was fired shortly afterwards for incompetence, so that may be all it is. But it could be something more sinister, and I don't want to leave any loose ends this time around. He's working for a local private investigator. Megan thinks it might be worth our while to find him and ask him about these interviews."

Megan continued, "From what I saw in these interviews and in his personnel file, there's a chance – a slim chance – that he might have been, well, less than above board. He didn't take being fired very well..."

"Who does?" Colby said, grinning.

"He took it worse than most. He filed a few complaints, then once he started working for the P.I. he dropped his complaints."

"What kind of complaints?" Emma asked.

"Sexism. Age discrimination. He also claimed that he was fired because his supervisor was jealous of him. Sounds like he is a little power hungry, and he definitely does not take rejection well."

Don said, "We'll keep trying to get in touch with him. From what Megan said, if he believes we're coming to him because we can't solve this case, he'll be more than happy to share his knowledge with us."

"And maybe," Colby said, "we can figure out whether he was just incompetent or involved with some of the lowlifes he interrogated."

"So," Don said as he sat, "did you guys find anything interesting while I was gone?"

"Not much," Colby said, grinning. "Just a possible connection between our Crips and the Boston mafia."

"Whoa!" Don said, "that was fast. How...?"

"Emma thinks she recognized one of the guys we busted. She's getting his Boston file faxed here so we can compare notes."

"He contacted a couple of our Boston mobsters. We don't know what it was regarding, but this is too big a coincidence to let it go."

Charlie stood, wiped his writing from a whiteboard, and began filling it up again. "This might be a key to linking our social networks. We've got our Crips, the Colombians, and now a possible concrete link to Boston. If we can solidify the link between the Gardner theft, Damiano, and the mob, we'll really be on to something. I need..."

"... more data," Don, Colby, Megan and David chorused.

Charlie turned, blushing. "Am I that predictable?"

"Yep," Colby said as he turned back to his papers.