Satisfied, Ashlyn pushed another file with a relatively simple traffic offense to the left side of her desk. She had adopted a straightforward system: On the right was the work, and on the left was everything she had done. In this case, a phone call to the district attorney's office had been enough to save a traveling salesman's driver's license in exchange for a modest fine.
One down, a few more to go, she thought. But not now; she had blocked time for the Garner case in her calendar.
Maggie had called her the night before to say that Katherine might be unable to provide any new information.
Dominic had told her that he would be investigating the youth welfare offices these days. He wanted to find existing files and former employees who could provide valuable information.
She wanted to review everything the journalists had researched with Payne again and finally meet with Micaela. Ashlyn looked at her watch. It was just after 8:30 a.m., early enough to call the district attorney. She reached for her iPhone and unlocked the device, but her office door was pushed open before she could dial the number.
"I know who's behind this," gushed Micaela Barboza, bursting into Ashlyn's office without knocking. "It's Cantu. Marcus Cantu. The top boss of our police force, so to speak!"
Ashlyn blinked a few times and then raised her eyebrows. "Cantu?" she exclaimed, and the thoughts in her head turned over. She had just been talking to Dominic about how the leading candidate for the office of Mayor of Boston in the next election obviously had his hands in the court case against Kim's brother Leon and Ryan Bauman. And now he was also supposed to be involved in the Garner case? That was a bit too many coincidences.
"Yes, Cantu. Believe it or not, he was a senior staff member at the DCFS downtown and worked closely with Granther. Or at least he supported Granther," Micaela continued.
"And where did you get this information all of a sudden?" Ashlyn wanted to know, leaning back in her desk chair.
"From my source who used to work in the DA's office." Micaela paused when she saw the blonde's questioning look. 'Your grandmother Maura,' she added, and Ashlyn buried her face in her hands for a moment, groaning. "Maura was involved in the investigation of Granther, but she couldn't remember everything when we met recently until now. She just called me after going through her old files again. She came across a memo with Cantu's name on it."
Ashlyn took a deep breath. "And what does that mean now?"
"Well, it means we have a lead, and I'll follow it up. I'll look into everything we can find out about Cantu and his work in the youth welfare office to know exactly how he was involved. Of course, I don't know if he really had anything to do with what happened to Booker. I honestly can't imagine that. But it's too early for that, isn't it?"
Ashlyn took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. "Why don't we meet later to coordinate. I'll talk to Tracy Payne again and see if she has anything new for us. And I'll call Dominic right away."
"Later is inconvenient. I have meetings all day and tomorrow as well. That leaves me little time, just like on Monday. But let's meet early on Tuesday; I can block two hours."
Ashlyn nodded and smiled before the DA disappeared from her office again, but then she became serious again and closed her eyes with a sigh.
xxx
Dominic Burke was slightly surprised but not seriously astonished when Ashlyn told him about Cantus' possible involvement. He didn't have an exceptionally high opinion of politicians, not the so-called clean-living ones. And Marcus Cantu fell squarely into that category.
During his time in the DA's office and his subsequent career as a PI, Dominic had often enough seen how artificially constructed CVs collapsed. More often than not, the self-proclaimed guardians of morality should have cleaned up their own acts.
What surprised Dominic the most was the fact that by now, everyone should have realized that 'shit doesn't fly anymore.' This was mainly because everyone on this planet left tons of digital footprints. If you put them together, you usually get a complete picture that provides insights into a person's actions and character.
For example, Dominic knew that Facebook could predict quickly when a relationship would break down. The program probably knew the people involved even before. And that's why he often started his investigations immediately: with the digital footprints.
Dominic had more extensive and in-depth knowledge in this area than most other investigators. But when it came to cases of particular importance, he didn't rely on that alone. He sought assistance from Liam Cleve, a former client of Ashlyn's who had saved him from a lengthy prison sentence a year ago.
Cleve did not fit the general image of a hacker at all. He wasn't overweight and didn't spend most of his time in his basement. He didn't care for pizza. And he didn't care about Star Trek at all. Instead, Cleve loved fast cars and exotic workplaces like the Bahamas, where he owned an island and enjoyed all the other amenities that a life of multiple millionaires had to offer.
Less than two hours earlier, Dominic Cleve had sent an encrypted voice message with the facts, which were as short as they were concise: What digital footprints did Marcus Cantu leave behind that contradicted his public image?
Less than ninety minutes later, Cleve had contacted him again. He had the first usable information.
Dominic opened his MacBook at the agreed-upon time and connected to the video link Cleve had sent him. After about five seconds, the digital window opened, establishing the connection. The image and sound quality were so extraordinary that Dominic could only marvel.
"Hi, Dom," the hacker greeted him. "How are you?"
"All good so far, thanks. And Ashlyn sends her love. How are things with you?"
"Can't complain. There are worse places to stay away during the hours," Cleve laughed, pointing to his background. Dominic recognized the azure sea next to palm trees, rocks, and a beach. It was pretty evident that Cleve was in his house in the Caribbean.
"Well, everyone as they please. And can," Dominic agreed, who fully allowed Cleve his wealth. The man was a genius and had earned it. 'But leaving your island aside, what do you have for us?'
"Well," Cleve said. "I still have a few programs that search for and evaluate further data, but I can tell you a few things. It wasn't challenging, to be honest. Apart from a firewall and a virus scanner, Cantu did little to protect his private computer."
"Okay," Dominic replied. "You've made me curious. I'm all ears."
"So, let's start in a structured way. His e-mails are hardly conspicuous. Just the usual traffic with friends, family, and colleagues. His hard drive is as clean as the public image of the Catholic Church, and there are no unusual transactions in his bank accounts either. He's not doing badly at all, but you could still think there's nothing that would help you, like incoming payments that suggest shady dealings."
Dominic knew Cleve well enough to know he must have another ace. Otherwise, he would have come straight to the point and saved himself the list.
"But then I kept looking and found what I was looking for."
Dominic thought he heard a particular note of triumph in Cleve's voice and had to smile. Even a hardened hacker like Cleve could still feel joy when he had achieved something remarkable. "Then fire away, and don't keep me in suspense any longer."
"Gladly. So, as you know, we all leave more digital footprints than we would like. Well... you at least do. And since the 'Internet of Things', more and more household appliances and everyday objects are hanging on the net, reliably and tirelessly delivering data. Whether we like it or not. And fortunately, Cantu has a lot of that in use. His smart TV, his shopping account, his digital assistants, his car, his alarm system, and so on. And a large proportion of these devices also record his internet activity. His attempt to cover his tracks by deleting his temporary internet files can therefore only be described as naive at best."
"I know all that," Dominic replied, beginning to get impatient. "So what have you found?"
"It's simple. Cantu started surfing the Darknet two months ago using the TOR browser."
Dominic pricked up his ears. He knew the Darknet was also used for legitimate purposes, such as the confidential exchange between journalists. Nevertheless, it was less widespread than the standard internet, and navigation followed different rules. For example, search engines like Google or Bing didn't deliver any results here. This is in contrast to the TOR browser, which could also be used to access so-called onion pages, i.e., websites that could not otherwise be found. Curious, he asked Clever: "Did you find out what he was looking for?"
"Of course, it's not that easy because that's what the Darknet is for. However, I compared his login times with other parameters and eventually got on his trail. Explaining to you now how I did it would exceed our time allotment. And you probably wouldn't understand it anyway – no offense."
"It doesn't matter," Dominic replied. 'I'm only interested in the result.'
"Well, to cut a long story short, at the beginning, he was still hanging around on sites where you could buy weapons. But in the last five sessions, a few weeks ago, in which he surfed the Darknet via TOR, he was always on a single site. And he hasn't returned to the Darknet since his last, fifth visit."
"And what site was that?" Dominic asked, frowning.
"Well, whether or not it helps, I can't tell you, but it's obvious that Cantu was looking into how to hire a hitman."
xxx
"My boss has given me the green light. We can start the series on Garner on Sunday," Ashlyn Payne heard on the other end of the line. She had called the lawyer, and Ashlyn felt her mood improve by the minute. It seemed to her that events had been unfolding rapidly since Micaela's visit. Suddenly, the Garner case was moving forward—long overdue.
"That sounds good," the blonde replied enthusiastically. 'And how exactly do you envision the whole thing?'
"We'll start by reporting the Granther experiment in a four-part series. We'll run the interview with Garner on Sunday to kick things off. I've already spoken to him and will drive to see him and Holland tomorrow morning."
Ashlyn nodded slowly and took notes. "Excellent. And in the issues that follow?"
"That depends a bit on what we trigger with the first article. We do have material, but I think we can still adapt it spontaneously."
"I see," replied Ashlyn, briefly considering how much new information she wanted to disclose. She decided to be open. This was not least about trust. Besides, Payne could probably help them. "I have some news for you," she began. "However, promise me you won't publish it now."
"I promise," Payne replied, and Ashlyn felt she could rely on the journalist's word. In a few sentences, she reported on the Cantu incident. After she finished, she heard Tracy Payne take a deep breath at the other end of the line.
"This can't be! The leading candidate for the mayor's office seems to have a skeleton in his closet." Payne paused briefly. She obviously had to process the news first. "If it were true," she continued, "and it came to light at this stage in the campaign, it would thoroughly shake things up. The cards would be reshuffled, and depending on how skillfully or unskillfully Cantu explained the events, it could influence not only the outcome of the election but even the end of his political career."
"I agree," replied Ashlyn, becoming increasingly aware of their shared responsibility. "And besides, there's another reason. Given the alleged attack on Justin Booker and Tim Garner and the bus, the question arises as to what extent Marcus Cantu is involved in current events."
Payne was silent for a moment. "I can't imagine that," she said. "That would be so blatant. But you're right; we must approach this very carefully. Marcus Cantu is very popular with the people of Boston. We have to be especially careful here. So far, we have nothing but assumptions, and even those are rather thin."
"Don't worry," Ashlyn assured the journalist. 'I have no interest in putting an innocent politician in the crosshairs of a public discussion without good reason.' She thought for a moment. "Maybe you could still ask Garner tomorrow if the name Cantu means anything to him. I mean, regardless of current political events."
"I'll definitely do that," Payne assured her.
After they had said goodbye and hung up, Ashlyn thought for a moment about what an unusual case Garner was handling and how little it had to do with her actual work as a criminal defense attorney. Still, she was glad she was involved in the matter. Her friend Dominic had reminded her of that only too clearly. She had crossed to the dark side to help people wrongfully accused or accused with justifiable doubt. And even though that had occasionally taken a back seat in the past, it was now more present in her mind than it had been in a long time. Garner had been dealt a damn lousy hand by fate. And it was Ashlyn's job to keep him in the game anyway.
xxx
Micaela Barboza!
Marcus Cantu had written the prosecutor's name on a piece of paper before him, added an exclamation mark, and drawn a large circle around it. A moment ago, a confidant had informed him that she had made inquiries to various youth welfare offices in this regard. This would have happened sooner or later if he had been honest with himself. Cantu ran his hand through his hair. It was enough to make you despair. For years, no one had been interested in his past. And suddenly, they were coming at him from all sides.
In the last few days, he had managed to suppress the matter. He had hoped that the issue had been resolved. But it hadn't. As another informant had told him, it would only get worse because Barboza wasn't the only one causing him problems.
That nosy journalist from the Boston Observer, Tracy Payne, was going to publish an article about the Granther experiment on Sunday. Or an interview. With Garner. This is yet another name that Cantu never wanted to hear again. But it was too late for that now. He had already done a lot to nip this matter in the bud so that he could concentrate fully on making the lives of Boston's citizens a little better through measured, confident action and recommend himself for higher offices and tasks. But not enough, even though he had stooped to manipulation and underhanded machinations. What could he do? He would have to take further measures. There was still a good month and a half before the election. Time enough to sort things out.