by John Altman
When the Volvo merged onto Houston heading west, the audio became more varied: music, street voices, blaring horns. The FBI vans merged behind it.
The red crosshairs reached Bowery. If Six Degrees had been her destination, she would have turned by now.
“His apartment,” McConnell suggested.
Sam brought up the windows hooked to Walsh’s phone. It had not been touched since arriving back at Liberty Plaza, six hours ago. Two emails delivered during that time shed no light. The first, from a Gmail account registered to a Karen Westwick: “We like Ishare ETF for Basic Materials Sector, IYM. 4 cent premium over Net Asset Avenue. 8 Mil shares outstanding. Newmont, Alcoa, etc.” The second, from the Yahoo! account of one Jason Moorhead, read, “Far be it from me to speak ill of GS.
