by Eden Sharp
He turned towards the laptop. A tanned hand reached toward it and shut it down. I replayed the last few moments as he turned towards the screen. His hood was up. The baggy fabric surrounded his face. What little of it I could see was completely obscured by shadow.
I made a mental note to call Kerpen in the morning and ask him for the phone records, then played the end of the file through again.
I counted Hayley tap the phone seven times. An iPhone, same as the ones I mainly used. Although I had several brands, I preferred the shortened sequences.
A seven-tap sequence wasn't enough to connect a call. I took out my cell and studied Hayley's moves in the moments before the guy made it through the door.
One punch with the thumb to get to the lock screen. I dragged the slider of the movie file back to catch the next move. One swipe with the thumb left to right to access the apps.
I replayed the file again and checked my phone. If Hayley was attempting to make a call, she would have tapped the phone icon at the bottom left of the screen but she hadn't. She'd tapped top right. She could have had any app at that on-screen position but it was clear she wasn't trying to call anyone. Four moves more.
I ran down the possibilities by studying my own apps, focusing on the regular ones which came factory-fitted. There was the camera icon. Maybe Hayley had been trying to take a photo of whoever was coming for her. But she hadn't held it up, pointing the lens in the intruder's direction. So maybe not the camera.
I looked at the rest of the default apps and thought about what I would have done in the same position. I couldn't help but think the camera had to be the most logical action.
I repositioned the slider again and manually replayed the footage, slowing it right down. Hayley's thumb had tapped at the bottom of the screen. If she was taking a picture she would have been taking it of her feet.
I checked my own phone again. At the bottom of the screen the icons allowed you to shoot, switch to video or access the camera roll. Three moves to go. If she'd been selecting a photograph her finger would have swept across the screen but it didn't, it hit the bottom of the screen again. I did the same. Two moves left.
I disregarded two of the icons. One took you right back to camera mode, the other created a slide-show. If Hayley had been trying to delete a picture, she would have completed the operation in one more move. That only left one other option.
I hit the arrow icon on my phone. A menu of options appeared. Ways to forward a picture. Email would have required entering in text and would have taken too long. Same thing with sending a message. I dismissed printing, copying or saving the image as a contact or wallpaper. That only left social media. And two more moves.
I called Lisa again. If you wanted the answer to a difficult question it was best to camouflage it by asking two or three easier ones first. If you wanted the truth it was best to ask them in rapid fire. Lisa answered on the second ring.
'You okay?'
'Yeah. Did you find out anything?'
'I'm working on it. Do you know if Hayley had any social media accounts?'
'Yeah. We get some trade through Twitter.'
'Do you know her account name and password?'
'@foxylane and she used the same password for everything, hotcambooty.'
'Why did you think Hayley had gone with a john to Atlantic City?'
'She sent me a text.'
'Okay, thanks. We'll speak soon.'
I typed in Twitter into the search engine on Culley's machine and logged in. I clicked on the tweets button and scrolled back until I found the date recorded on the film. There was one tweet. No text, just a photo. It had been taken outside, on a nondescript street that would be impossible to identify. But it was a pretty good shot of a stocky man. Hispanic-looking. I right-clicked and saved it to Culley's desktop, then sent it to print.
Knox was back with Culley within five after I rang.
'You good with computers Leo?' I asked.
He nodded. 'Kind of.'
'I deleted all the files but listen to me. They'll still be retrievable from the hard drive. Back up the other stuff you need then destroy this board and start again. Don't just reformat it. You got that? And take down your site.'
'Yes, but. . .'
'It's important Leo. If the person who hurt Foxy, Hayley, comes looking for them they could be dangerous for you to have. Do you understand?'
Culley looked at Knox then back again to me and nodded.
'And Leo?'
'Yes?'
'Don't open the door without any pants on.'
I sped up as I hit the foyer and bowled out on to the street. Didn't stop to see if Knox was behind me until I was twenty yards away.
'Well that wasn't awkward at all. I hope it was worth it,' Knox said.
I took the printed photograph out of my jacket pocket.
'When the guy was breaking down her door, Hayley Boulter was posting this image to a social media account. She didn't have time to leave a message.
What if Amber Grigson managed to take a picture of whoever took her and sent it to Hayley? Maybe it was all she had time to do. Maybe it led the perp straight to Hayley resulting in her murder. Maybe she only recognized him at the last minute.'
'So now what?'
'I'll pass this on to the cops at Bayview. Let them deal with it. We need to go back to Potrero and visit Lisa.'
TWENTY-NINE
Knox managed to pick up a cab outside the Golden Gate Theater. I gave the driver the address.
'So what's the sit rep?'
'A guy broke in to Hayley's apartment while she was chatting to a customer online. I don't know how he got in the front door but she only seemed to notice when he was breaking down the door to her bedroom.'
'Where the lock was busted up.'
'Exactly. There wasn't a mark on the entrance door but the camera she'd installed above it would have shown how he got in. Maybe that's why he took the laptop.'
'Maybe he had a key,' Knox said.
'It's a possibility and something to ask Lisa. Maybe she gave it to him.'
'So you got a look at the guy from the webcam?'
'No I couldn't really see his face. But Hayley spent her last moments tweeting a photo of the guy from her phone.'
'That him?'
'I'm pretty sure. But why tweet it? I mean maybe that's all she had time to do. But I still don't get it.'
'So you think she knew him?'
'I don't think so. If you know someone and they're breaking down your door intent on violence you'd say something to them, but she didn't. I still want to see if Lisa knows him. Maybe he was a regular.'
I was looking out at the Franklin Square playground when the glass in the cab window imploded. It disintegrated into a million tiny cubes before I even heard firing. I hit the floor at the same time as Knox. The glass on the other side popped and rained down in on us.
I felt the driver hit the gas but he took the corner too fast. The cab spun out. There was a thud and jolt as it slammed into something. I heard the airbag deploy and launched myself out of the nearside door. Sensed Knox tagging close behind me.
I ducked down behind a row of parked vehicles for cover. Knox was crouched between two fenders looking back towards the driver.
A group of about ten to fifteen Latinos in blue sportswear were running down Seventeenth. They were ignoring the cab but advancing towards us firing shots into the air.
Knox tracked over to me pointing at a side street.
'We go for cover down there, there might be more approaching from the other direction and we'd be flanked. It's about eight blocks too far to my apartment. Best to keep low and on the move.'
Drivers heading our way stopped their cars and turned around at the sight of the shoal of blue advancing down the middle of the street. Rocks and bottles arced in our direction. The sound of glass hitting the asphalt was interspersed with fully automatic fire.
We made a left and moved past a wall of graffiti. I saw a lot behind bu
siness premises with multiple exit points.
'Over there.'
We sprinted over, vaulted a low wall tagged with In Dollars We Trust and ran between trucks locked up for the night in front of a deserted loading bay. Either side rat runs headed out of the lot. I switched my cell to silent. Knox nodded and did the same. He took a peak backwards.
'I'm gonna recon down the nearside. One minute.'
I nodded. 'I'll take right, meet you back here.'
Knox scooted off to the left, waited at the corner for a moment then headed out.
I checked back for movement near the wall we'd come over. Nothing.
I kept low and trotted around the corner to my right. A few grimy security lights high up near the roof of the building weren't throwing out a lot of light. I could make out vague shapes. Dumpsters maybe. Hopefully nothing more.
At the end of the building a floodlight illuminated a twenty-feet diameter of open ground. I did a quick scan behind me then sprinted out from the shadows, across the lot and into a cut between two units.
A whistle intended to imitate some form of wildlife came from the right, somewhere behind me. It was followed by a similar call, like some kind of refrain. A piece of broken glass cracked under my foot, maybe highlighting my position. I squinted into the darkness, trying to regain my night vision and figure out the options.
I turned into a wall of graffiti-covered concrete and spotted a narrow alley to the left. Footsteps on glass advanced somewhere behind me so I picked up the pace and raced down it and out the other end. A high steel link fence topped with razor wire loomed up before me capping off the only way out. I turned around and made out two young but built guys sauntering toward me down the alleyway, taking their time.
THIRTY
John Knox
Knox had calculated the padlocked metal gates at the back of the lot wouldn't pose too much of a problem to scale and headed back the way he'd come. He rounded the corner. No McGlynn.
He headed over to the right side of the building and checked it out. All quiet. At the end, he didn't like the look of the brightly lit open space he needed to cut across to rejoin cover.
He speed-scoped it and shot across back into the shadows. Up ahead he heard voices and whistles. He took out his Glock. Between two units, the ground strewn with broken glass, he saw a wall of concrete sprayed with the tag M-13.
Angela McGlynn
I thought about shooting them but didn't like the odds. I didn't want to alert any reinforcements to my position. But this wasn't going to be a regular fight, this was all about combat. Time for maiming, maybe more, not dancing around.
I let them come, all the time backing up, mentally calculating the diminishing distance until my back hit the fence.
Their primitive brains would be kicking in now, making the world shrink into the here and now. Thousands of years of civilization wiped out in favor of falling back into simpler patterns. The dominant versus submissive.
Affecting a victim-like stance would discourage any immediate decisions they might have to reach for weapons and would bring them in closer to the zone. I lowered my gaze but kept their positions marked.
I took a big step forward and skipped to one side just before they boxed me in. There are cardinal rules in fighting. Don't get in the middle of two attackers, and try and get them in a line. It halves their capability, as one is blocking the other, and gives you the ability to attack both of them at the same time.
The one nearest to my left threw out his right arm aiming at head height. More a grab than a punch. I blocked it with my left and when he followed through I drew his other arm in close to my shoulder and brought my right arm underneath, jerking up hard by his elbow joint. I heard it break and he started to go down.
I grabbed his head and pulled it down to meet my knee then kicked out his leg from under him and heel palmed him in the chin pushing him backwards onto his shorter accomplice who was thrown off balance. Shifting my stance so I was diagonally on to him, I landed a side kick to his temple before crashing my elbow into his throat. Now they realized they'd made a tactical error.
With manhoods affronted this was danger time. The short guy wasn't going to be doing much apart from laying on the ground gurgling. Crushing his larynx meant his focus was more on suffocating than regrouping. I'd broken the first guy's left and the chances were he shot with his right, so to be safe I landed another kick against his temple to make sure he was down and out.
I registered more footsteps, looked up and saw Knox come to a halt. The footsteps continued. More than one pair. Knox retrieved the weapons from both bodies on the ground and lobbed them over the fence.
I grappled my cell, keys and the photograph from my jacket and stuffed everything in to the pockets of my jeans. I was pissed about losing the jacket. It had cost me six hundred dollars.
I took it off, bundled it up and launched it onto the razor wire. I gave myself a short run up and propelled myself forward, up and over. On the far side, I pushed up to my feet and watched Knox sprint up, catch a toehold, and pull himself up and over. He half fell to a landing, scrambled up, and we ran ahead into the murk.
We came to the end of a row of premises and a wall too high to vault. Probably painted with an anti-climb solution. Knox looked around at the surrounding buildings and pointed to a window ledge.
'Up there. An easy scramble to the roof and a drop and roll to the outside.'
He linked his hands for me to step on and hoisted me up. I pulled myself up to kneeling then found my feet by clinging loosely to guttering. I fixed a hold above it and levered myself up. Knox pulled himself up to reach me. From the top I couldn't see anyone around down below so I jumped. On the ground we skirted a side wall while hanging back into the shadows and made for the intersection up ahead.
Near the gateway of an adjoining building, I registered two men straying across into the middle of the street. Knox saw them too and grabbed the lapels of my shirt. He pushed me up against the gates, squeezing himself into the space. Maybe twelve inches of wall buttressed out, hopefully enough to cover his back. I could feel his breath on my forehead and the rise and fall of his belly against my ribcage. I listened hard for someone heading our way. Heard footsteps retreating instead. He gave it a minute then loosened his grip and backed away.
We checked it was clear and crossed the intersection on to Folsom Street and crouched between two parked cars. A group of youths was growing in number north-east of our position.
'Sureños,' I said, trying to keep my voice low. 'If we can head north past Fifteenth and up towards the 101 we'll be out of their territory.'
The group began to saunter down the street in our direction.
Knox pulled out his cell and dialed.
'Kelly,' he hissed, 'need evac immediately, LZ Folsom, north of Fifteenth. What's ETA?'
He listened to the response then ended the call.
'Ten,' he said.
'Then let's get out of here.'
Knox put his hand on my shoulder.
'Don't be stealing my best line McGlynn.'
He stood up a little from his crouched position and moved along the nearside of the parked vehicles. I followed.
A noise came from the rear. Knox pulled me down and rolled onto his back. His Glock was already drawn. I took out my SIG. I could feel the sidewalk pressing into me. The footsteps traveled down the opposite side of the cars. Two separate groups were reconvening.
We got up and continued creeping to the left. I heard some low-murmured instructions in Spanish but couldn't make out any specifics. We were almost twenty feet away when it all turned to shit.
THIRTY-ONE
John Knox
'Aqui!' There was a sudden movement to their side of the vehicles and Knox made out two shapes in the shadows sprinting in their direction.
He lurched forward, grabbing for McGlynn but she was already up alongside him, SIG drawn.
At the end of the walled lot they threw themselves around the corner, peggi
ng across the open to the cover of a truck. A mob was now running in their direction, footfalls echoing off the asphalt of the empty street.
One guy shouted a command and the rest halted, moving to the backs of cars, taking their own cover.
'Oye puto, venga!' The Alpha continued to walk up the middle of the road.
Knox considered a head shot to put him down. Take some confidence away from his lieutenants. Then he was back in the desert watching his rounds punch into the flesh of a child. He could see the hole in the forehead, the frozen expression, the body crumpling, falling down into the dirt, beginning to drop even before he heard the sound of his double tap.
Angela McGlynn
I skipped through our choices. They were non-existent. A shout came from a member of the mob then a couple of urgent whistles and the lone banger slunk sideways back into the shadows. I saw what had caught their attention. A patrol car cruised past at the intersection. I wanted to see it screeching our way, all lit up and sirens blazing. Instead it accelerated away down the street.
I started backing away but Knox stayed where he was staring into the blackness. I called out to him but he didn't move.
I ran back to his position, took hold of his arm, and dragged him toward a side street up ahead. There was a large, square, brick building. A community center. I ran behind it for cover pulling Knox after me, then punched 911 into my cell. I didn't wait for the dispatcher to run through her script.
'There's an officer down on the ground, a gang of men around him, near Folsom and Enterprise in the Mission. I've just seen a patrol car nearby.'
Knox was peering round from the edge of the building.
