The Garden of Betrayal - Lee Vance [102]
“We’d know more if we could see Mohler’s e-mail,” I said, glancing back to Kate. “Any possibility of that?”
“Not yet,” she answered, shaking her head. “Connecting to the router is like connecting to a switchboard. I can eavesdrop on the conversations that Ganesa’s computers are having with each other and with outside computers, but persuading them to talk to me is a whole different level of complexity. It might be easy, or it might be really hard, I can’t tell yet. Gabor sent me a step-by-step procedure to try.”
“You’re back in his good books?”
“Totally. The T-shirt was exactly the right thing to send him. He e-mailed me a picture of himself wearing it.”
I was glad to hear it. At Kate’s request, I’d laid out a hundred and fifty bucks for a vintage Pretenders concert T-shirt that she’d found online at a shop in London. The seller had drop-shipped it to Budapest, along with a faxed note from Kate that apologized for missing lunch with Gabor’s mother. Another miracle of the digital age.
“Let me guess. Gabor’s my age, pudgy, balding, and looks like he could use a bath.”
“Not quite. Twenty-five, skinny, and dreadlocks. But yes to the bath. Kind of a grubby rock-star nerd look. I showed the picture to Phil and he got all jealous.”
She didn’t sound particularly unhappy to have upset him. Claire headed back toward the pantry. I turned to follow and my eye stopped on the clock mounted over the door. A half-formed thought caught me up short.
“How long has Mohler been browsing on these porn sites?”
She pressed a few keys on her computer.
“Pretty much nonstop for the last hour. He’s on something called Hot Crossed Buns right now.”
The time was a few minutes past four. The stock market closed at four. Not many money managers I knew ignored the close if they were near a screen, regardless of how kinky they were.
“He have any other pages open? Maybe something financial?”
She dragged a couple of fingers across her trackpad as I hunched over to watch. She was scrolling through the log file too fast for me to pick much out, but I managed to spot a couple of the Web addresses she’d mentioned and a couple she hadn’t. LeatheredMaidens.com and BirchHollow.com were two she’d omitted.
“Porn and more porn, as far as I can tell. Nothing that looks financial. Why?”
“Just another thing that seems odd,” I said, wondering exactly what kind of business Mohler ran. “Let me know if you make any more progress.”
“Will do.”
Reggie was still on the phone, so I joined Claire in the pantry.
“More coffee?” she asked.
“Not yet, thanks. Kate’s incredible, isn’t she?”
Claire smiled.
“I remember when she was ten and we got the new VCR.…” Claire trailed off uncomfortably.
“And Kate was the only one who could figure out how to program it, and Kyle got furious. I remember, too. It’s okay to remember.”
“I know.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter behind her. “I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“About what’s going to happen if we get this whole thing figured out but we can’t prove it, because we took too many shortcuts.”
It was the same question I’d asked Reggie in the car by the river, after our trip to Staten Island.
“I’ll take care of it. I promise.”
“By beating someone with a bat?”
I winced. It wasn’t something I’d wanted her to know about.
“Reggie told you?”
“He’s worried also. We’re all worried. For the same reasons, and for different reasons. Whatever happens, I want you to remember that Kate needs you.”
“Kate?” I asked, my heart aching.
“And me,” she said, biting her lip. “We’re a family.”
I leaned forward to give her a kiss, and she put her arms around me. I suddenly felt better than I had in days.
“Who was on the phone?” Claire asked, looking over my shoulder.
“Friend on the job with a couple of updates,” Reggie replied, walking toward us. “The tech who matched the partial on Carlos’s belt buckle to Theresa gave the news to the homicide boys. Homicide put out an APB and sent her photo and prints to Immigration and Interpol. If we’re lucky, they’ll get some kind of hit.”
“But they only know her as Carlos’s