Davy nodded heavily. “Or he knew about it anyway. Fuck him. I’m glad he killed himself now!”
It was a rare outburst from the gentle computer expert, but one which everyone approved.
As Ash calmed himself and steadied his cursor above the girl’s photograph they all held their breath again. A single tap led them not to darkness as feared but to a PDF file, and when the hacker repeated the action to open it what was written there made Davy want to vomit.
The file’s opening page was headed ‘Bella Westbury Adoption’ and listed the girl’s colouring, age, ethnicity and details of her parentage and upbringing, as well as a transaction code, the eye-watering price that had been paid for her, and the name of who had her now. Bella Westbury was now Olivia Stanger the daughter of Donald and Brook Stanger, residents of Manhattan, New York.
Emrys Lomax thudded on to the nearest chair and dropped his face into his hands for a moment. When the Vice D.C.I. looked up again he didn’t try to conceal the tears in his eyes.
“I’ve seen people do things that you wouldn’t believe but I’ve never seen anything like this. This is the depths of depravity.” He swallowed hard. “How many kids are on that screen?”
It was Ash who answered, his own disbelief at what they’d found showing in his hoarse voice.
“Around two hundred, but…” He shook his head as if to clear it and then continued, “I think there are other screens behind this one. We can’t be sure until we strip it back, but this blockchain’s huge so it can hold a lot of data.”
Cate Pine joined the other detective sitting down. “They can communicate with each other through the blockchain from anywhere in the world?”
“Yes, but this layer of the blockchain is encrypted, otherwise any user could have seen these images and reported them to the police. Morrow must have been uber cautious because he’d encrypted his shortcut icon as well. We managed to bypass the need for a password by hacking, but anyone else would have needed one.”
Davy had a tech question for his junior.
“Can you get names for everyone who’s accessed it?”
“Eventually, but we’ve a lot of work to do before then. The FBI’s analysts can help us generate the locations of the kids in the States, and Europol’s ditto in Europe, but this is gonna take a while.”
Cate Pine turned to Davy. “You’d better update D.C.S. Craig. He needs to be happy before we go any further. If things get out to the agencies too early there could be a leak, and there’s no telling what some of the adoptive parents might do to those children to keep themselves out of jail.”
It was clear from all the analysts’ horrified expressions that the possibility had only occurred to the cops in the room.
Davy said nothing for a moment, thinking through the ramifications, and then he nodded, indicating that he’d made up his mind.
“You two keep w…working on the photos and back-up three copies of each kid’s PDF. That’s the first priority in case things crash. W…We need to know who they were, and who and where they are now. But don’t pass those files on anywhere till-”
Just then the door flew open and a flustered Alice rushed in. “Davy, your computer’s making a noise like it’s going to explode or something!”
His alarm. He’d set it to go off as soon as Blaine Westbury was face-matched.
He tore out to his desk, tapped his keyboard repeatedly, and then grabbed the phone and connected with Craig.
“Chief, Westbury’s just entered the short-term car park at Dublin Airport. Block A. It’s the closest to the terminals. There’re no direct flights to a non-extradition country today, but there’s a connecting one to Caracas via Newark in the States. The Newark flight leaves at nine-thirty from Terminal One so he has to be on that. He obviously fancies his chances of getting through US security, probably because he’s bluffed them so many times before. Anyway, it’s half-seven now so you’ll need to move!”
Craig had just begun his interview with Róisín Casey and he hoped that the banker had overheard Davy’s words. They’d just shown her Blaine Westbury’s picture and outlined a hypothetical scenario linking the pair of them to something grave, although without giving the full details, and he wanted her to realise just how close they were getting to her partner and start to sweat.
He took the call into the corridor, leaving Liam in the interview room to keep the banker on edge.
“Has he appeared in the departure area yet, Davy?”
The analyst tapped several more times before replying. “No sign of him in either terminal. He’ll probably w…waitin the car till check-in’s almost closed, so I’d be prepared for him to make a dash for the check-in about an hour before the flight.”
If Westbury had a gun he could take a hostage or even shoot people that got in his way, and in a busy airport that meant a lot of people could get killed.
“Right, hike up the airport alert. Liam and I are heading out there now.”
He rapped the interview room window hard and beckoned to his deputy, nodding Pat Goodall to return his prisoner to her cell.
Liam was quick on the uptake.
“Westbury?”
“Dublin Airport, so let’s get on the road. I’ll call Pat from the car. We’ll need Garda backup out there.”
A bewildered and then panicked Róisín Casey was deposited quickly back in her cell. The banker was quick on the uptake and she’d guessed from the giant cop’s expression as he’d left that he thought they’d just cracked their case.
She also had no illusions about human nature and knew her lover very well. Where Blaine was concerned he would protect himself first and last and to hell with the rest, so unless she got ahead of things now and cut a deal he definitely would, and she would be the sacrifice.
As the financier calculated how long she had to play with, and what was the minimum she could tell the police without ending up in prison for life, the murder detectives were racing through Dublin towards its port tunnel with two response cars following close behind.
Craig called his senior analyst again on the way. “Talk to me, Davy.”
“Westbury’s still not inside the terminal building, so he must in the car park. From Block A he could sprint to departures in minutes. He was snapped on entry in a beige metallic S-Class Mercedes.”
Liam gave a whistle. “If he bolts in that thing even I’ll never keep up.”
“Then we stop him, even if we have to crash the car to do it.”
Davy continued as if they hadn’t spoken; keen to get his information across.
“I could ask the gate guards to s…search for it, chief, but the car park’s huge.”
Craig shook his head hurriedly, his urgency reflected in his voice. “No, don’t! We don’t know if Westbury’s armed but they definitely won’t be. OK, update me on what else you’ve got.”
“I’ll try to hack into the car park CCTV while we’re talking. OK, other stuff on Westbury or the crypto?”
“Take your pick.”
“W…Westbury first then. He could be flying under one of two names. I’ve got the passenger manifest and they’re the only names that fit by sex and age, but I can’t see the passport photos till they check in.”
“Names?”
“Jacob Reiss or Bradley Rockenham.”
“It’s the second.”
“How do you know?”
“He called himself Brad when he dealt with Pierre Galvet.”
The analyst rolled his eyes. Bradley Rockenham sounded like an extra on 90210.
“OK, the airport will send me their photos the minute either man checks in, and now we’re sure which country W…Westbury’s heading to I’m going to look for a money trail. He must have transferred assets in advance to live.”
Craig glanced at the speedometer in passing and winced; Liam was doing well over one-hundred-and-twenty miles an hour. He focused back on his call.
“Don’t worry about Westbury’s assets for now; we can do all that after we have him.
Tell me what’s happening with Derek Morrow’s crypto link.”
As the analyst outlined their process in the least technical language that he could manage without sounding patronising, Craig felt himself going cold. Rows and rows of young children, each with a price on their head, paid for by people who’d ordered them to suit their needs like they were a fitted kitchen or a new car. It explained Galvet’s emphasis on how attractive all the children were. He’d been pointing them to its perceived value in the world of designer adoptions.
It was callous, disgusting and would take forever to undo the damage done to the kids, who’d spent years believing they were with their birth parents only to soon find out that they’d been traded like a commodity.
Commodity trading! The thought made Craig catch his breath. He’d jumped to the conclusion that Blaine Westbury had been the mastermind behind everything and Róisín Casey his supportive partner, but trading was her world and she would have been the one with international contacts. Had Westbury been the follower and Casey the one in charge?
The detective shook his head hard to clear it. He was getting ahead of himself. Who’d led and who’d followed was irrelevant right now, they could sort that out once they had both the scum in jail.
Davy’s clear voice cut across his thoughts. “Did you hear me, chief? D.C.S. Pine says it’s your case so we can’t do anything more than gather the names and addresses of the kids without you s…saying how to proceed.”
Craig shut his eyes as he responded, hesitantly at first, his words forming at the same time as his thoughts.
“There’s a risk here… if the adoptive parents… get spooked…they could…probably will…kill the children to avoid jail. And for all we know they could all be in touch with each other…it’s unlikely but not impossible.” He became more confident in what he was saying and opened his eyes, “So when we go in for the kids they’ll all have to be approached at the same time.”
He straightened up in his seat assertively. “This will require massive co-ordination with agencies across several countries, Davy, and that will take a lot of preparation, so although I know the urge to do something now is overwhelming we can’t. We need to get everything ready for one big swoop and disable all possible communications between them beforehand.”
The analyst pushed aside his urge to blow the doors off in favour of Craig’s logical approach.
“OK. I s…see that.”
Just then Craig glanced out the window and saw a sign stating that Dublin Airport was only ten miles away.
“Right, quickly, get me D.C.S. Pine and D.C.I. Lomax on a three-way. I need you to put the armed airport police on alert and then come back and join in.”
A moment later he had the others cops on the line, and reiterated his approach.
“Thanks both of you for your assistance today, but it’s imperative that this is a meticulously planned and coordinated swoop across time zones and countries before even one child is approached. We’ll need to work through the details before either the birth or adoptive families are alerted.”
There was no argument from Lomax but Cate Pine’s agreement was grudging.
“If it was my kid-”
Craig cut her off sharply. “But it’s not, Cate. And if one child is killed because of our carelessness then we’ll all deserve a place in hell! This is my Op and I’m running it my way. I’d like assistance from both of you, but only if you can agree to follow my lead. I’ve informed the C.C. of everything already.”
He hadn’t, but he knew that even if he couldn’t trust Cate Pine’s self-control he could trust her desire not to mess up her career.
Her follow-on, “I understand” was less grudging and more subdued, but Craig knew that he’d better call Sean Flanagan in the next hour or she’d check and he would be screwed.
Just then Davy rejoined the call.
“Davy, I’d like you to collate the children’s details and make sure no electronic or hard copies are taken off the floor.”
That earned him the expected tut from Pine.
“Emrys, Cate, thank you and I’ll contact both your offices on Monday and arrange a meet. Now, I need to speak to Davy alone.”
When the others had quit the call Craig repeated his instructions to his analyst even more firmly, adding that he needed all of the children’s PDFs encrypted and all paper copies locked in his office safe, then he phoned Sean Flanagan and ran quickly through the day’s findings, to his driver’s increasing astonishment, obtaining the Chief Constable’s agreement that he could have whatever time he needed to plan before any other agencies made a move.
Craig had timed things well, because on the next occasion he glanced out the window they were on the slip-road for the car park. He signalled Liam to pull in before they reached its entrance and wait for the response cars to catch-up, then he motioned everyone to get out.
“Right. We believe Westbury’s booked on a flight to Newark leaving at nine-thirty, under the name of either Bradley Rockenham or Joshua Reiss. Actually, Liam, ask Davy if he’s checked-in before we enter the car park, will you.”
A few seconds later the answer was no, neither man had checked-in, and there was still no sign of Westbury inside the terminal.
“That means we have to assume he’s waiting in a beige metallic Mercedes inside this car park, somewhere pedestrians will be constantly leaving and collecting cars. We don’t know if Westbury’s got a gun but it’s likely. Either way he’ll be desperate and extremely dangerous.”
He turned to the Gardaí. “Are any of you armed?”
The answer was a round of shaking heads that made him want to say “Damn”, but he didn’t. Instead he regretted the fact that police officers in the north felt that they had to carry weapons all the time, such was the continuing dissident threat to their lives.
“OK, well, we both are, so we’ll go in alone. Meanwhile you cover the entrances and exits and prevent anyone new entering, and follow but do not stop Westbury if he tries to leave. He could kill you.”
Just then Davy called again and Craig put it on speaker.
“Chief, I’ve just had a Superintendent Goodall on. He’s spoken to the airport and asked for a lockdown on all the terminals and car parks, so nobody can enter or leave.”
“Good.” He should have thought of that himself. “That should cut the numbers of possible hostages for Westbury to grab in the car park at least.”
“Yep. Also the airport’s patched me into their CCTV and I scrolled back to when W…Westbury entered. He’s in section closest to the terminal building. I’ve sent the layout to your phone. I can’t pinpoint his space exactly because one of the cameras there’s on the blink, but look for a beige metallic Mercedes. I’ll text the reg number to you now.”
“OK, good. And to the Garda officers too, please. He definitely hasn’t entered the terminal yet?”
“No. That’s the other thing I called about. Joshua Reiss has just checked in and he’s not W…Westbury, so you were right, he must be travelling as Bradley Rockenham. It won’t be long before he’ll start running, because check-in closes in fifteen minutes. I’ll text you again in five minutes if I have more info.”
“Noted.”
He cut the call and turned to the others. “You all heard that, so you men get to your posts. No lights or sirens, just sit quietly, and if that car comes out, follow it but keep your heads down and we’ll catch you up. Time to go, Liam.”
They passed the gate guard with a flash of ID, Craig directing his deputy incrementally through the car park according to the layout on his phone. Liam drove quickly at first and then as they approached the relevant section more slowly, then he pulled up to wait for Davy’s text. It came exactly when promised but it didn’t hold good news. Blaine Westbury was a clever bastard. He’d chosen a parking space in the section’s far back corner, at the end of a long row of cars and right up against a wall.
It made the Mercedes in accessible from either the sides or rear, leaving only a frontal
assault possible and giving Westbury sight of anyone approaching from several car widths away. It would give the murderer plenty of time to drive out and ram them, or shoot if he had a gun, making an advance dangerous if you were driving but absolutely fatal for anyone on foot.
Craig motioned his deputy to park three rows up out of sight and switch off his engine.
“Are your binoculars in the boot, Liam?”
“Yep.”
With that the D.C.I. slipped out the driver’s door and hunkered his way to the rear of his Ford, returning a moment later with the equipment to see his boss frowning in thought.
“There are still pedestrians around. If we call Westbury out we’ll get a standoff and someone will end up dead.”
The D.C.I. shrugged. “What’s the option, boss? We can’t sneak up on him; he’s positioned himself too well for that.”
Craig’s response was to take the binoculars and, ducking down, weave quickly through the rows of parked vehicles until he was hunkered in one just ahead of Westbury’s car. He trained the binoculars on the Mercedes’ windscreen, adjusting them until he could make out a man’s shape, then he focused the lens so precisely that he could almost count the hairs on Blaine Westbury’s upper lip. They were drenched in sweat, a full slick of it, a film repeated on the fugitive’s forehead.
Craig watched for a moment as Westbury’s pale eyes flicked repeatedly from the windscreen to his hands and then to the car’s passenger seat and he realised exactly what they were facing. A quick trip back and he was inside the Ford beside his deputy, who was looking less than amused.
“You might have warned me you were bloody going that close! Well, what’d you see, Rambo?”
Craig gave a tight smile. “A very nervous looking man. He’s sweating hard. He kept looking out, then down at his hands, and then at the passenger seat.”
Liam nodded. “Attackers, gun, money. He’s armed and he has his money and possessions on the seat beside him, ready to make a run for the plane. Well, seeing as he’s expecting someone to come at him, it’d be a pity to disappoint him wouldn’t it?”
Craig’s smile widened; both of them wanted nothing more than to put a bullet between Blaine Westbury’s eyes for all the misery that he’d caused. But they wouldn’t unless absolutely forced to, not because the scumbag didn’t deserve it, but because for the moment’s satisfaction it would give them it would deprive all the families that Westbury had destroyed of justice, not to mention that they might both end up out of a job with bills to pay.
The Depths Page 38
