Chapter Seven

January 15

7:36 am

"David."

Sinclair flipped open his notebook. "We went back over everything. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. There were no witnesses. No identifying fingerprints. Nothing that would leave DNA. The only other thing we got was through Dr. Minikoff downstairs. He reviewed all the coroner's reports and he says that the perpetrator beat the victims in such a way as to cause maximum pain before death."

"Torture?"

"Something like that."

"For what? For information?"

"Or a personal vendetta."

"What are you thinking, Terry?"

"Something Charlie said," Terry clarified as she shifted and leaned back in her chair. "He told us that membership was very limited and that nineteen out of every twenty applicants was turned down."

"You're thinking it was someone who was turned down?"

Terry shrugged one shoulder. "Could be. I mean, whoever did this is smarter than your average killer. Think about it, every serial killer leaves clues as to his identity sooner or later or makes a mistake in his arrogance. This guy is very careful. Almost too careful."

"He had to have left something behind. Something we aren't getting. If I'm learning anything from working with Charlie it's that there is always something you don't see, something you don't think is there but is. Something that's only too obvious if you can only find it."

"Minikoff also said he can give us a physical sketch of the suspect, it's not perfect but it's a start," David added.

"What did he come up with?"

"He's guessing male. 5' 11" to 6'2", right handed, strong upper body, not quite a body builder type but close."

"Like a football player? An athlete?"

"Yeah."

"Anything else?"

"Broad shoulders."

"Broad shoulders, how'd he get that?"

David hesitated and glanced quickly at Terry before speaking. He's not gonna like the answer, he was telling her with his eyes. "The spacing of the one two punches to the kidneys."

The two agents saw Don blanch and were quick to assure him they would do everything they could to find whoever was behind this.

"We'll run it through again, Don. We'll find something."

"Thanks, guys."

"How's Charlie?"

"He's … scared. So's my dad. Terry, is that new surveillance roster worked out?"

"Yes, it's all set."

"Who's on now?"

"Keith and he's on until 7:00 tonight."

"Good. That's good."

David and Terry exchanged glances again before closing in on the other agent in a confidential knot. "Don," David spoke first. "We … the whole team … we want you to know that this has gone beyond duty."

"It's personal now, Don," Terry told him, her eyes never leaving his. "Charlie's one of us."

"Yeah, and we take care of our own. You and Charlie, you're family. We won't let you down."

4:45 pm

Don put his head in his hands and leaned against his knees. Three days. It had been three days since Charlie had dropped the bombshell that he was the next target of the Omega Tau killer. Don almost laughed. They hadn't been able to nickname this case, like they had so many of the others, until they'd found the link. Three days since he'd been able to eat more than a bite or two at a time. And the five hours of sleep he'd gotten last night was quickly wearing off. He was reaching the end of his physical endurance and he knew it. He could feel exhaustion creeping into his bones and would have given anything to be able to close his eyes for a solid eight hours.

But what if Charlie needed him in those eight hours? What if the killer decided to strike while Don slept? He knew it was irrational but he couldn't help himself. Charlie was his brother and his safety precluded everything else right now. It didn't matter that there was round the clock protection being provided. It didn't matter that they couldn't find a shred of a clue anywhere in six case files. All that mattered was that they found this guy and locked him up for good. When that happened, Don promised himself he could sleep for a week.

His cell phone rang. Don had tossed it onto his desk earlier and he looked at it, now, out of one bloodshot eye. He reached for it, stretching as he stood up. "Eppes …What? …. Are you ….? …. I'll be right there … What? …. Okay, will do."

He snapped the phone closed and motioned for David Sinclair to follow him. "May," he called to the groups' secretary as he grabbed his jacket, "we're out."

"Location?"

"Century City. Got a call about the Aqueduct Counterfeiters. Seems they may be at it again."

Don headed for the door with David Sinclair on his heels. Jack Carlson cut him off before he could reach for the handle.

"What's the matter, Eppes? Charlie," he sneered the name, "need a milkshake? Or does he just need you to hold his hand while he crosses the street?"

Don gritted his teeth and willed himself to ignore the other agent but David Sinclair had had enough.

"Okay, Carlson, that's it. You got a problem with Charlie, you tell it to me and I'll be glad to correct your ass six ways to Sunday!"

"David. Calm down. Just let it go. Let it go."

Carlson cackled. "Oh, hey, looks like Charlie's got himself a bodyguard now. Nice, Sinclair. You joining the geek group, now, too?"

Sinclair would have loved to punch the Carlson's lights out at that moment but Don was pulling on his sleeve.

"I said let it go. I mean it. Come on."

David allowed himself to be pulled out the door but his eyes never left Carlson's. When the heavy glass had closed off the jeering laughter he let out an angry roar. "One day I am going to teach that man to mind his manners. I swear to God, Don, I will take him down."

"When this case is closed, you are welcome to do it. But for now I need you."

"Are you saying I can't take him?" David was deeply offended that his abilities as the office boxing champion were being questioned.

"You'd have your hands full is all I'm saying. That you can out-finesse him, I have no doubt. But I've seen him in the gym and he's no lightweight."

"Yeah, well lightweight, heavyweight, or middleweight, I'm gonna kick his ass. Charlie is as good as they come and I'm tired of listening to Carlson demean him." David Sinclair couldn't understand why Don didn't stick up for his brother himself and he asked him about it. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"Of course it bothers me! But I'm not doing Charlie or myself any good by provoking him. And to be honest with you, David, Charlie and I have been putting up with shit like this for years. It's nothing new. It doesn't make it any less irritating, but it's nothing new. And we agreed a long time ago that we would deal with it." He unlocked the black SUV and they climbed in. "I mean, when you have someone in the family like Charlie, it's no picnic, for anyone. Not that I'm not proud of him, I am. I think Charlie's abilities are amazing. It's just that … you get a lot of flak from people who don't understand. And believe me, David, there are a lot of people who don't understand."

Sinclair sighed heavily as they pulled into traffic. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point. So you want to tell me where we're really going?"

"You figured that one out, did you?"

"Well, as an FBI agent I have developed acute powers of observation. And my observation tells me that Century City is in the other direction."

"Excellent work, Agent Sinclair. We are going to the Skyline Building."

"Wunderkind Software?"

"Terry says there's something there we need to see. Something that she wants kept quiet."

5:15pm

"William Michaels was a security freak. He was under the impression that someone was after the new educational applications he was working on and had revamped the building's security four times in the past two years." Terry filled them in on what she'd found out while Alison Van der Pool, Wunderkind's security chief, uploaded a DVD onto a computer. Terry's voice was quiet and Don could tell she was extremely tense. Whatever had been uncovered had rattled her for sure.

"Was he justified in his suspicions?"

"Absolutely," Terry told him. "Attempted industrial espionage is commonplace for a company of this nature. Five attempts to hack into the program vault here have occurred in the last year alone."

"Michaels was always looking for new technology, technology we develop here on premises," Van der Pool informed him. "The last thing he added were remote sensor cameras that are recessed into the walls, rendering them invisible to the naked eye and undetectable by electronic monitoring."

"When was this done? And why didn't we have the information before now?" Don wondered.

Van Der Pool turned away from her monitor and faced him. "It was done two days before his death. But the equipment wasn't scheduled to go online with the main security system until today. However, Michaels was never one to let a project go unfinished, especially one he was hot about. I should have known he'd get into the camera system and bring what he considered the most sensitive area online."

"What area was that?" David asked.

"The executive suite. The first images began recording at 3:30 pm two days ago, the day he was killed. But I didn't find it when we went over the initial security video for the area because I didn't know we had it. I didn't discover it until this morning when I was backing up the system data for the week. He'd wired the cameras to record directly onto the mainframe instead of recording to the video imaging system."

Don felt a surge of energy flow through his body. "Show me," was all he had to say.

"Wait." Terry got up and made absolutely certain the door to the security viewing room was closed. "You swept the room?"

Van der Pool nodded. "Twice, once with standard equipment, once with our own version. This room is clean. But, just to be sure…" She flipped a switch on the console to her left and a slight humming sound filled the room. She turned the FBI gents. "It's a signal jamming device," she explained. "No audio or video will be discernable as long as it's on."

Don looked questioningly at his female agent. "What's up?"

"You'll see."

The four people turned their eyes to the monitor, where video images were beginning to play. With several clicks of a computer mouse, Van der Pool forwarded the images until the clock at the corner of the screen read 7:40pm. There was a moment of William David Michaels sitting at his desk, and then someone entered the room. For the next half hour, the tiny cameras captured his murder from six different angles in hi-resolution graphics. In every third frame, the killer's face was plainly visible. Don stared, certain the first couple of times he saw it that he was imagining things. Terry must have been watching his face, for when she realized that he had come to grips with who the murderer was, she began to speak.

"I accessed his file from here, using a secure connection. He was labeled as 'gifted' at the age of twelve but went through regular schooling, albeit in accelerated classes. There is no mention of his having applied to Omega Tau except for one statement at the end of the psych portion of his employment profile, in response to the 'Have you ever been discriminated against' question, where he states, quote, "Yes. When I was sixteen I was blackballed by a fraternity for gifted young people because I wasn't smart enough for them. That made a huge impact on me and someday they will realize that rejecting me was a poor course of action." When asked what he meant, he went on to say that he meant they would realize he could have been a valuable asset to their group and the interviewer let it go at that."

"I can't believe this." Don was stunned. "How did we… I mean, how did we miss this?"

"There is nothing at all that would link him to the case." Terry answered. "But he used his influence to get to his victims. I'm guessing he used his credentials to get close to them, then killed them."

"We've gotta get to Charlie. He could move at any time. He knows I'm out of the office."

"But he thinks you're in Century City," David reminded him. "We are a lot closer from here than we would be from there. We can be there in half an hour."

Don was already reaching for the door. "Let's move. Terry, call Keith and give him the lowdown. Make sure he keeps his guard up."

"Will do. I'll wrap up here and meet you there."

"Thanks. David, you're with me. Let's go."

Terry dialed Keith cell from the secure line she'd used earlier to phone Don and explained what they knew. "I know, it's a lot to take in. Consider him armed and dangerous, Keith. Also, Don wants you to secure your position at the Eppes home and go into lock down until he gets there… You're where? … Damn. Where's Charlie? … Okay, listen to me. I want you to find them now … What do you mean the power just went off? … No, it's okay. I'm not outside, I didn't know there was storm. Just find them and observe. Don't make a move without backup unless you have to, okay? Don is familiar with the layout so just let us know where you are … Keith? … Keith? Dammit!"

Terry slammed down the disconnect and furiously dialed another number. "David, it's Terry, listen to me. They're not at the house, they're at the campus. I was just on the phone with Keith and he said the power in the building went off ... I know about the storm but listen! Keith's line went dead as we were speaking. Do you understand me? … Exactly. Charlie is alone in the math complex with Jack Carlson."