The Panic Zone Part 9

"Nothing left?"

Lyle brought out a small brown paper bag from his pocket and placed it in her lap.

"This is all we recovered."

Emma stared at it.

It weighed nothing. It was a new lunch bag. She wondered if Lyle brought it from his home. When she opened it, it crackled, exhaling a whiff of smoky air as she peered inside at two small shoes.

Tyler's little sneakers.

Charred.

"It's proof, Emma," Kendrix said.

She touched them to her face, and her tears streaked over the toes, making tracks along the scorched canvas.

12.

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Frank Archer was pacing with his cell phone against his ear when the Rio police returned Gannon to the bureau.

"He just walked in. We'll set it up in two minutes." Archer turned to Luiz. "Go ahead, set up the call."

Archer tossed his cell phone on his desk and put his hands on his hips.

"Dammit, Gannon. What the h.e.l.l's going on?"

"It was a misunderstanding with police."

"They arrested you."

"They wanted to talk to me--it's been cleared up."

"Good. Do you have your pa.s.sport? Luiz is booking you a flight back to New York. George agrees, having you down here is a liability."

"Wait, Frank--I think I've got some leads."

"What leads?"

"It might not be a narco hit. There's a disgruntled employee who made threats, and there's also a chance the bombing is linked to financial troubles the cafe was having. And there's the mystery woman Gabriela was supposed to meet."

"We've been through those theories. Our contacts say this was an act of narco terrorism."

"Have you confirmed Gabriela's source?"

"Gabriela's anonymous source never showed. According to what Porter and Sally got from their police contacts, Gabriela was alone at her table."

"The sense I get is that the lead investigators have not exactly confirmed that Gabriela was alone. They've got conflicting reports that a woman may have been with her."

"Are you kidding me, Jack? Collectively, Hugh, Sally and I have worked in South America covering coups, earthquakes, drug wars, for nearly twenty years. You've been here about twenty minutes and you're going to tell me you have better inside police information?"

"Call's ready," Luiz said from the meeting table nearby where he'd entered the required codes on the telephone console for an urgent WPA teleconference call. The phone's speaker hissed with static.

George Wilson was on his cell phone at Sao Paulo's airport about to make his connection for Marcelo's service. Melody Lyon was in Miami for Gabriela's funeral and was calling from her hotel room.

"It's Luiz in Rio. Everybody's ready?"

"Is Gannon there with you, Frank?" Wilson asked.

"I'm here," Gannon said.

"Not for long," Wilson shot back. "Frank, give Melody an update."

"We no longer need Jack's help. Sally, Hugh, the stringers and I have got this covered. We appreciate that Jack rushed down here, but we're good."

"Don't sugarcoat this, Frank," Wilson said. "Mel, I don't want to say I told you so, but Gannon's screwed up royally."

"Jack," Lyon said, "I heard you got into trouble. What happened?"

"There was a misunderstanding with police and it's been cleared. Now, I have a few leads on tracking down who might be behind this."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Wilson said. "Gannon, admit you messed up. You get yourself on Brazilian TV, get your picture in the papers, then you get arrested for tampering with evidence at the crime scene."

"I did not tamper with evidence. I was outside the scene. I just got back after talking to one of the detectives on the case. He's fine, he let me go."

"You're embarra.s.sing the WPA at a difficult time," Wilson said. "Mel, I want him out of there."

"Wait, George," Lyon said. "Jack, how solid are your leads?"

Gannon thought of the doc.u.ment in his back pocket, the diagram of where the cafe victims were seated at the time of the blast. Estralla agreed to share it with him in confidence.

"They're good leads."

"Mel, send him back to New York. He needs more experience on the national desk," Wilson said. "This was a narco hit and our people were caught in the crossfire."

"Give me a few more days," Gannon said.

"Frank--" Melody came on the line "--are you, Sally and Porter attending any of the services? We hear the Rio Press Club has arranged something there?"

"Yes, we're going to a memorial today. Then I'm flying to Miami tonight. John asked me to go with him. Sally and Porter are going to meet George for Marcelo's service. The stringers are standing by and will file any breaking news to New York."

"Okay," Lyon said. "Jack you're staying in Brazil."

"Thank you," Gannon said.

"For now," Lyon stressed. "You and Luiz will mind the bureau while we're down for the next few days. And you will stay out of trouble and keep me up to speed, is that clear?"

"Yes."

"After that, we'll see where the story is and decide your a.s.signment," Lyon said. "Are you good with that, George?"

"It's your call, Mel. I have to go."

"Thank you, everyone," Lyon said.

As he tightened his tie and slid on his jacket, Archer stared at Gannon.

"I have to meet Sally and Hugh at the church in Copacabana for the memorial service. Luiz will give you the spare keys. Lock up if you go out."

"Thanks."

Archer shook his head.

"You're a piece of work, Gannon."

Archer left, the tension in the office eased and Luiz went out for pastries, leaving Gannon alone. He exhaled slowly as he studied the seating diagram Estralla had given him.

There had to be something more to this.

Who was Gabriela's source? According to Estralla, a woman appeared to have met Gabriela at the cafe but then disappeared. Maybe she went to the restroom?

He grabbed the Jornal do Brasil and reviewed the faces and bios of the victims. The diagram allowed him to consider who they were and where they were situated at the time of the blast. He pondered it and the pictures until Luiz returned.

Gannon had given little thought to the fact he was sitting at Marcelo's desk until he absentmindedly gazed at all of the notes framing his computer's monitor, then at some of the photo equipment.

That was when it hit him.

"Luiz, help me out here. Marcelo accompanied Gabriela to the cafe to meet the source, we know that much."

"Of course."

"But as I understand it, he went for more than a matter of bureau practice and safety. He probably wanted to take a few photos of the source without her knowing. I mean, we did the same thing in Buffalo, in case a source was going to feed you a bad story. If they burned you, you had their picture."

"I understand, yes."

"What if Marcelo managed to take a few pictures before the cafe exploded?"

"But Marcelo's camera was destroyed."

"I know."

But in his years of working with the news photographers, Gannon had learned a bit of the technical side of things and an idea was taking shape.

One that could pay off.

"I have a hunch about something, Luiz, and I'm going to need your help."

13.

Gannon swayed in the chair of his murdered colleague, nurturing his new hunch.

Taking stock of Marcelo's desk, Gannon considered an empty package for an Eye-Fi card, thinking about what the photographer could have done at the cafe.

"Marcelo was obviously familiar with wireless transmission of photos."

"Most photographers are," Luiz said.

"And the Cafe Amaldo had Wi-Fi wireless access."

"Yes, the journalists went to the Amaldo often with their laptops."

"With this--" Gannon held up the Eye-Fi package "--Marcelo had the ability to ensure that any picture he took at the cafe was immediately transmitted and stored securely online."

Gannon studied Marcelo's keyboard as if it held the answer.

"We've got to get into his computer." Gannon switched it on.

After several moments of whirring and beeping, the system came to life and the pa.s.sword window popped up, stopping him cold.

"Do you have Marcelo's pa.s.sword?"

"No, each member of the bureau has a secret pa.s.sword."

Gannon tapped a finger next to the keyboard and searched the notes affixed to the edges of the computer monitor.

"You said he was forgetful?"

"It is why he attached all those notes to his screen."

"Let's go through them. Maybe he posted his pa.s.sword here?"

Luiz and Gannon scrutinized the notes one by one with Luiz reciting names, dates, numbers, addresses and phone numbers as possible pa.s.swords. Gannon submitted candidates, and each time they were denied access. He knew it was likely futile, given the upper- and lower-case combinations. But they tried for nearly an hour, including restarting the computer when they exceeded the number of failed attempts to log in.

No luck.