NOT WITH A BANG
Chapter 6 Forensics
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Charles Epps is the mathematician-detective from NUMBERS. I don't have any rights to use him, either, so the usual disclaimers apply.)
It was Saturday, and Will wasn't technically required to go to work, but the situation seemed to demand it. Besides, there was a tactical reason. Lucy's investigation of the high school could go nowhere during the weekend. If Will could crack the case in two days, it would save the kids from further harassment.
One of the consultants from Washington didn't fit in with the rest. He struck Will as a larger, louder version of Adam: long dark hair and an air of listening to a different drummer. Eventually Will found out that he wasn't really a government agent, but a mathematics professor who did a lot of consulting with them. Since he happened to be in Washington at the time of the bombing (his actual home was in Los Angeles) they had sent him to Arcadia. The bombs had destroyed themselves in the very act of blowing up, and Epps was supposed to figure out where they had been.
"The bomb created tremendous outward force. By noting how things moved and working backwards, we can find the epicenter of the explosion. You see?"
Will wasn't familiar with the word "epicenter", but he could guess from context. It was where the bomb was.
"The measurements didn't make sense until I hypothesized that there were THREE epicenters. Each one was in similar place when checked the blueprints: the closet off of a men's room."
"Somebody managed to smuggle in THREE bombs?" Will asked incredulously.
"Not too likely, is it?" agreed Epps. "More probable that somebody brought in the parts of the bomb, disguised as something harmless, and assembled it onsite. My guess is that he hid in a stall of the men's room to put it together, then just dashed to the closet."
"We're talking about a "he", then?"
"Not necessarily. A woman in disguise could have done it. Who would think much of seeing a vaguely masculine figure enter or leaving a men's room?"
Will frowned. A woman like Joan could never for an instant pass herself off as anything but female. On the other hand, Grace could have pulled it off. "Can you deduce anything about the bomber?"
"Usually I leave the profiling to Megan in Los Angeles, but I can speculate. The fact that "he" could construct the bomb onsite implies skill with explosives. The fact that he planted three bombs may point to something in his character. Maybe he thought some bombs wouldn't work and he would need "backup". Or maybe it's a measure of emotion -- he doesn't just want to blow up the building, he wants to do it THOROUGHLY. The fact that he used the same strategy three times, rather then improvising, shows that he is methodical. Did you notice more than one explosion?"
"No. Though my senses were rather stunned by the first blast."
"Then he programmed the three to go off at exactly the same time. Timers completely synchronized. Rather fastidious, don't you think? In short, a cold character who plans everything in detail and sticks to it -- definitely not your stereotypical wild bomb thrower."
All that just from looking at debris. Will had made the wrong comparison: Epps was Luke turned investigator. Too bad he couldn't introduce the two; the professor was flying back to California tonight. At least the profile sounded nothing like Grace--
Will had to remind himself: simply clearing Grace was not his job. His goal was to catch the bomber.
Talking to City Hall security was a big letdown after Epps. Yes, they kept track of everybody who entered the building, and entered their names on a computer. But those computer records had been destroyed by the bomb. No, they didn't have offsite backups. Will found himself wondering if the security company had gotten its contract years ago through cronyism, rather than competence. Something to look into after the big mystery was solved.
With no machine records to consult, Will had to spend most of the day finding and interviewing the security guards. Certainly a man trying to bring hardware into City Hall would be noticed, if only because his timer was likely to set off the metal-detectors at each door. But the guards all denied seeing anybody suspicious enter the building, either during the day or the night.. So either there was an unguarded entrance somewhere or one of the guards was lying. Hypothesis: some guard accepted a bribe to let somebody in, not realizing what would happen. When the bomb did go off, the guard realized that he was an accessory to a serious crime and had to keep his mouth shut.
Will hated this pervasive sense of corruption. Though not generally mythologically minded, he had heard the story of the Hydra, who grew back a limb or head whenever you chopped one off.
It fit criminal organizations perfectly. In a perfect society, Will felt, an evildoer would by contrast stick out like a sore thumb.
Eventually Will reached home at 4:30, having accomplished very little. There was an extra car parked outside the house, and when Will walked in his front door, he found Rabbi Polonski having coffee with Helen. The rabbi immediately looked up and said: "Grace is missing."
"What?!"
"I haven't seen her all day. At first I thought nothing of it; I knew that she enjoyed visiting your family. But after Sabbath services were over I happened to call over here, and your wife said that she had left early this morning."
Great. Lucy will love this development. The guilty flee where none pursueth. And even leaving Lucy out of it, Grace could be in big trouble. "What do the kids say?"
"They don't know anything," said Helen.
Oh, really. Will had heard that before, it was called stonewalling, and there were ways around it. But this was his family, not witnesses at a police station. "I'll have a talk with them. Where are they?"
"Upstairs in Joan's room, I think," said Helen.
Will proceeded up the stairs.
The kids looked startled as Will came in, as if he had startled them in some secret conversation. That was odd. Up until last summer, he would have thought Joan and Luke followed very separate paths. Luke was into science and Joan was into, well, a lot of stuff, one at a time. Nowadays they spent a lot of time together, doing -- what?
It doesn't matter. Concentrate on the current crisis.
"Are you aware that Grace is missing?"
"Yes, Dad," replied Joan. "We're trying to figure out where she could be."
"Any luck?" The kids weren't professionals, but they knew the girl very well, and might have a valuable idea.
"Not really."
"Not really? Do you have any lead?"
Luke seemed to think for a few seconds, and said, "No."
Luke did not lie very well.
"Luke, Joan, if you know anything, please tell me. Grace's safety may depend on it. "To you, Grace may seem like a resourceful girl, and she is, in this sheltered corner of the world. But I've seen what happens to girls who try to strike out on their own in their world. They find it difficult to find or hold decent jobs. With no job, it's difficult to get decent shelter. Eventually they has to depend on somebody else, without much experience in sizing up people and their motives."
"Maybe they'll be lucky and find a decent mentor," Will went on. "But frequently they find a predator who thinks he thinks that they should "repay" his efforts. And if they don't "repay", he uses force. Or maybe he is dominated by greed more than lust, and decides to share them around for a fee. Where do you think most prostitutes come from?"
"For heaven's sake, Daddy!" said Joan, crying. Luke was turning white.
"I'm not telling you this to distress you! I'm warning you what could happen to Grace if we don't find her. If one of you has the key--?"
"I drove her to the Beghs this morning," blurted out Luke.
"The Beghs?"
"Yeah. She made me promise not to tell. And that's it. I really don't know anything else."
Joan, sobbing, shook her head.
The promise meant that the visit was part of a plan, not just a casual courtesy. "And normally I'd expect you to keep promises, Luke. But don't feel guilty. This particular breach may save her life."
But Luke still looked white, and Joan was still crying as he left the room. After all, there was no guarantee that Grace was still at the Beghs, unless she was actually hiding out there. If she had moved on, the trail might have withered and the girl was still in danger.
He cursed Lucy for targeting Grace and mashing his work into his home life. But being a hardheaded rationalist, he knew that cursing would do little good. What he needed to do was solve the case.