‘Oh,’ he said, ‘that explains it. I tend to block out things when she starts yelling.’
Payne smiled. ‘I guess that means you have no idea why we’re in Mexico, because she’s been yelling since we got here.’
Jones stared at him. ‘We’re in Mexico?’
Payne laughed. ‘Anyway, let’s get back to Randy. How do we figure out what got him noticed?’
Jones scratched his head in thought. ‘I wasn’t privy to any of your calls, so I don’t know what was said. How many were there?’
‘Three, counting today.’
‘Forget about today. Whatever got him flagged happened before today. What did you ask him to do first?’
Payne tried to remember the details of their first conversation. ‘I asked him to run a background search on Hamilton. Personal, criminal, financial, the works.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Not in the first call, but …’ Payne paused for a moment. ‘Actually, I take that back. I also asked him to run the serial number on Hamilton’s gun. You know, the Mexican Special from his briefcase. Because of its age, he told me not to get my hopes up.’
‘What about the second call?’
Payne closed his eyes in thought. ‘I asked him to run the serial numbers on the AKs. After that, we discussed the blacked-out security feed from the hotel. He wasn’t sure how it was done, but he promised to look into it.’
‘Randy didn’t know how it was done?’
‘No, but he was fairly confident he could catch the hacker.’
‘Just a second. What if it was the other way around?’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘What if Randy tried to trace the hacker, and traced it right back to the CIA? I’m sure that would have set off all kinds of bells and whistles at the Agency.’
Payne considered the theory. ‘I don’t know. Randy’s a sneaky son of a bitch. Do you really think they would have caught him?’
‘Good point. Then how about this? Randy traced it back to the CIA and was legally obligated to get clearance before he could tell us anything. They told him to fuck off, and he had no choice but to deny our request for assistance.’
Payne nodded. ‘Now that sounds more realistic.’
‘OK, let’s assume that’s what happened. If so, there’s a very good chance that he ran background on Hamilton before he was cockblocked by the CIA. Same thing with his weapons search. He would have done those first because they aren’t labour-intensive. Punch in some names and numbers and his computer would have done the rest.’
‘So, what are you saying?’
‘I’m saying there’s a damn good chance he compiled our data before the CIA got involved. If so, that’s very good news.’
‘Good? How can that be good? If he can’t send it, we can’t use it.’
Jones smiled. ‘Who said he didn’t send it?’
In recent years, Payne’s knowledge of computers and gadgets had increased exponentially, mostly because Jones had given him so much crap about being the CEO and majority owner of a technology-based company and having less computer ability than the average third grader. With a lot of hard work, Payne’s expertise would now rival most college students, which was an amazing leap in such a short time. Unfortunately, that meant his comprehension was still way behind Jones, who actually built computers in his workshop for fun. Jones wasn’t as skilled as Raskin – then again, who was? – but he had enough know-how to develop a backdoor file-sharing system that allowed him to access encrypted documents from anywhere in the world.
Payne said, ‘I checked my inbox. Nothing from Randy.’
‘Does that surprise you? He was probably afraid you were going to accidentally forward it to everyone on your contact list. Again.’
‘That happened once. Can you please let it die?’
‘Not while I’m alive.’
‘That can be arranged.’
Jones dismissed the threat as he pulled out his phone. He punched in his password, then opened the programme that allowed him to view all the files that had been transferred to his computer system in Pittsburgh. ‘I got something.’
‘From Randy?’
He nodded. ‘Came in late last night. I’m downloading it now.’
‘What is it?’
He glanced at Payne. ‘I don’t know. I’m downloading it now.’
‘Sorry. I’m anxious.’
Jones laughed as he waited. ‘OK, I got it. Let’s take a look.’
He hit a few keys and opened the file on his phone. As suspected, it was a comprehensive background report on Hamilton. It included personal data (addresses, phone numbers, etc.), criminal records (nothing but a few traffic citations) and a financial profile (he was practically broke). For the most part, nothing helped Payne and Jones with their search until they came across a credit card, which Raskin had highlighted. It showed several minor purchases in recent weeks, including one at a gas station in Piste, Mexico.
Jones pointed at the screen. ‘Will you look at that?’
Payne nodded, intrigued. ‘Piste? What’s near Piste?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s go ask.’
The two of them ducked inside the garage, where Maria and Ulster were still hard at work on the artefacts. She glanced back when they heard the door open.
‘Where have you two been?’ she asked.
‘Outside,’ Jones said. ‘Are either of you familiar with Piste, Mexico?’
Ulster turned and nodded. ‘It’s a dusty little town a few hours west of here. Nothing more than a speck on the map. Why do you ask?’
‘If it’s just a speck, why do you know it?’
‘Why? Because it’s the closest town to a famous Mayan site called Chichén Itzá. It’s less than a mile away.’
Maria stared at Jones. ‘Why? What’s going on?’
‘We just got a financial report on Hamilton. One of the items was a credit card statement, which lists a recent purchase at a gas station in Piste.’
‘That’s great! He probably filled up there before he drove to Cancún.’
Payne shook his head. ‘Somehow I doubt it.’
‘You doubt it? Why do you say that?’
He stared at her. ‘The purchase happened last night.’
53
Chichén Itzá, Mexico
(111 miles southwest of Cancún)
Thick vegetation lined both sides of the road. It blocked their view of the countryside as they drove toward Chichén Itzá. Despite being nearly three hours long, the trip was uneventful. Except for an occasional tour bus, the only other sign of civilization was a constant stream of toll booths that seemed to pop up every other mile. By the time they reached Piste, a rural town by the famous archaeological site, Jones had counted more toll booths than exits.
During their journey, the four of them discussed the significance of Hamilton’s credit card activity. Ulster assured the group that his personal credit card purchases were commonly ‘off’ by a few days when he travelled abroad. This was particularly common in developing countries like Mexico, where technology lagged behind. Eventually, his bank in Switzerland would straighten out the transaction dates, but sometimes that wouldn’t occur for a week or two after he had received his statement.
Payne and Jones were familiar with the time lag, but they still thought it was worth the drive. With little else to go on, they wanted to investigate the possibility that the purchase had been made by a member of Hamilton’s team. According to Ulster, Hamilton often worked with unpaid interns on his research trips, so it stood to reason that he might have given them access to his credit card in order to buy supplies for their campsite. If so, they hoped to track down his research team somewhere near the Mayan site and get information about Hamilton.
To do so, they had to start at the beginning.
The place where the purchase had been made the night before.
Much to their surprise, the petrol station was fairly modern – at least compared to the rest of the area, whic
h seemed to be a few decades behind the times. There was a hospital, a fruit market and a few restaurants near the main road, but there were also packs of feral dogs that roamed the dusty alleyways. Houses, for the most part, were hidden from view, tucked behind a thick wall of vegetation that looked remarkably similar to the jungle they’d been staring at for miles. It was the main reason so many Mayan sites were still being discovered today.
They were hidden in the jungle.
Jones pulled up next to the pump and took a few minutes to top up the SUV’s tank. Out here in the middle of nowhere, petrol stations were few and far between. No sense taking any chances. Meanwhile, Payne headed into the station with Maria, who would serve as his interpreter in case the clerk couldn’t speak English. A bell mounted above the door announced their arrival with a loud jingle. Payne walked to the front counter and waited for the owner, who’d been stocking shelves in the back of the store.
Wearing a white apron with a green trim, the grey-haired man shuffled forward. He had a nametag that read, ‘Eduardo’. He greeted them with a friendly wave. ‘Hola.’
‘Hola,’ Maria said. ‘¿Hablas Inglés?’
Eduardo nodded and smiled. ‘Yes.’
Maria glanced at Payne. ‘He said “yes”.’
‘Thanks, honey. I figured that one out. Now go wait in the car.’
She wandered off. ‘No thanks. I think I’ll shop instead.’
‘Great. Go do that.’
Eduardo said nothing. He just kept smiling.
Payne focused on him. ‘Sir, I was hoping you could help us out.’
‘Do you need directions? I am bad with directions. All the signs are written in Spanish.’
Payne laughed. ‘That’s pretty funny. How many times have you used that line?’
Eduardo frowned. ‘Funny? What is funny about my problem? I cannot read Spanish. I can only read Mayan. And you make jokes?’
‘Oh, man, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I thought …’
Eduardo kept a straight face for a few seconds. Then he burst out laughing. ‘Now that is funny! You should see your face. It is red like tomato. You thought I only read Mayan.’
Payne stammered. ‘Well, how should I know?’
‘How? Look around the store! Everything is written in Spanish.’
Payne groaned. ‘OK, I guess you’re right. Now I feel like an idiot.’
Eduardo kept laughing. ‘Do not feel dumb. I trick people all the time. This job is boring without jokes. I hope you are not mad.’
‘Mad? Not at all. In fact, I’m glad you tricked me.’
‘Really? Why is that?’
‘Now you owe me.’
Eduardo shrugged. ‘Maybe. What you need?’
‘Were you working last night?’
‘Sí. That means “yes”.’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘If you knew I was working, why did you ask?’
Payne rolled his eyes. This guy joked more than Jones. He needed to put a stop to the levity or this would take all day. ‘On Friday night, a friend of ours was kidnapped in Cancún. We’ve been waiting for a ransom call ever since.’
Eduardo blushed. Now he was the one who felt like an idiot. ‘I am sorry for your loss. Mexico is dangerous place.’
‘Last night, someone used his credit card at your store. We were hoping you could remember what the person looked like. It might give us our best lead to date.’
‘I am sorry. I cannot help.’
‘Why not?’
‘I did not see anyone.’
Payne nodded in understanding. He pulled out an American twenty-dollar bill and placed it on the counter. He wasn’t sure what the going rate for a shakedown was in Mexico, but he figured this would be a good place to start. ‘Does this help your memory?’
Eduardo tucked the money into his pocket. ‘Nothing wrong with my memory. I remember just fine. I was working in the back office all night. That is why I see no one.’
Payne growled but didn’t ask for the money back. ‘Who was working out front?’
‘My son.’
‘Is he around?’
‘No. But even if he was, he would remember nothing.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘He drinks on the job.’
‘You let him drink at work?’
Eduardo shrugged. ‘He works for free, so I let him drink.’
‘Wonderful.’
‘It is good system. It has been working for years.’
Payne took a deep breath. This was going nowhere fast. ‘Maria! Time to go. He can’t help us out. We’ll have to look around the site.’
‘Hold up,’ she shouted from the back. ‘I’m getting supplies.’
Eduardo smiled. ‘She is getting supplies.’
‘Yeah, I heard. Thanks.’
He kept smiling. ‘While you wait, you look at tape?’
‘Tape? What tape?’
He pointed at the security camera. It was barely visible above the counter. ‘Tape of customers. We keep tape for twenty-four hours.’
‘You have a security tape? From last night?’
He nodded. ‘Like I say, Mexico is dangerous place. Tourists cannot be trusted. They are worse than conquistadores. They come in here and steal my Twinkies right off the shelves. Do you know what we call Twinkies in Mexico? Submarinos.’
Payne ignored the Spanish lesson. ‘Where’s the monitor?’
Eduardo signalled for him to follow. ‘Come. It is in my office. I show you.’
Five minutes later, Eduardo was rewinding the tape for Payne and Maria. Unlike the digital set-up at the Fiesta Americana, this system was basic – one angle, no panning or zooming – but it was much better than a drunk witness. If the credit card statement was accurate, Payne knew the purchase had been made at 9.32 p.m. on Saturday night. They decided to start at 10 p.m. and work their way back from there, just in case the time stamp was off.
‘What should we look for?’ she asked.
Payne shrugged. ‘You’d know better than I would.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Weren’t you an unpaid intern in college?’
She nodded. ‘Yeah. I guess I was.’
‘And what did your fellow classmates look like?’
‘I don’t know. I guess they looked like me.’
‘Great. Then we’ll look for hot Italian women.’
She laughed at the description. ‘You think I’m hot?’
‘Maria, this is Mexico. It’s, like, two hundred degrees outside. Everyone is hot.’
She taunted him softly. ‘You think I’m hot.’
‘Shut up,’ he whispered back. ‘I didn’t say that.’
Eduardo looked at them. ‘Are you two married?’
‘What?’ they blurted in unison. ‘No!’
‘That is too bad. You have much potential. You argue like married couple.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ Payne said.
‘My son is married. He does not like it. That is why he drinks at work.’
‘What about you?’ she asked.
Eduardo sighed. ‘I used to be married. I did not like it, either. That is why I let him.’
Payne nodded. ‘Now it makes perfect sense.’
Just then, a female customer flashed across the screen. Since the tape was still rewinding, everything she did was fast and in reverse. Eduardo tapped the ‘play’ button, but by the time he hit it, she had backed out of the door. ‘Should I go forward?’
Payne shook his head. ‘Just play it from here. We want to see her face.’
The camera, mounted high above the cash register, offered a clear view of the front counter but didn’t show much of the store. If Eduardo was trying to catch the Twinkie thief, he was going about it the wrong way. As the customer roamed the aisles, all they could see was her waist and a pair of jeans. Everything else was obscured because of the angle of the lens.
‘I can’t see anything,’ Maria complained.
Payne reached into hi
s pocket and pulled out his phone. ‘That’s OK. The person we’re looking for used a credit card. We’ll see her when she comes to the counter.’
The customer kept moving, up and down the rows.
‘What are you doing with that?’
‘I want to take her picture. That way we can show it around.’
She nodded. ‘Good thinking.’
After nearly a minute, the customer walked towards the camera. She had a bottle of water in one hand and a box of cereal in the other. She placed both items on the counter, then pointed outside, as if to say she also wanted to pay for a tank of gas. Unfortunately, her face was hidden by a floppy hat. The kind someone would wear if she were going to be in the sun all day.
‘Look up!’ Payne screamed at the tape. ‘Look at the camera!’
Maria shouted, too. ‘Look up!’
A moment later, they got their wish. The customer took off her hat, wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her arm, then glanced directly into the lens. She looked at the camera for several seconds, giving them a chance to memorize the freckles on her face and her distinctive red hair, then she punctuated her stare with a sly smile.
Payne snapped a photo of her. ‘Gotcha.’
In reality, it was the other way around.
54
Named one of the New Seven Wonders of the World – taking its place alongside such monuments as the Taj Mahal and the Great Wall of China – Chichén Itzá is a pre-Columbian archaeological site in the northern centre of the Yucatán Peninsula. Built and rebuilt by the Maya civilization over a span of nearly a thousand years, the ancient city is one of the most popular destinations in Mexico.
After parking near the entrance, the foursome hiked towards the site, where they hoped to find the mysterious redhead who had used Hamilton’s credit card the night before. To aid their effort, Payne forwarded her photo to each of their cell phones, allowing them to search more efficiently. They flashed Tiffany’s picture to everyone they passed on the dirt path that led to the ruins, but to no avail. Despite the thick vegetation that blocked their view, they sensed something significant was looming just around the corner. And they were right. After a slight bend to the northeast, the trail opened into a large courtyard of dirt and grass.
The Death Relic Page 27
