CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Kelly Kramer locked the room behind him and went in search of Detective Sam Morel. Central District was quiet, the clock just ticking up to midnight. Thursday, October 19, dropped into the history books as the minute hand crossed twelve. A couple of minutes later Kelly found Morel sitting in the coffee room with his feet on the table. He had a steaming cup in his hand and waved to the empty chairs. Kelly sat opposite him at the table.

“Well, did you find anything on the computers?” he asked, cautiously sipping the hot liquid. When Brent Hawkins returned the six computers to SFPD, Morel had set up a time for Taylor’s computer expert to have a look at the hard drives. Kelly Kramer had started working on the computers at five o’clock and hadn’t left the room for seven hours except once to use the washroom.

Kelly had two sets of typed pages with him, and he laid them side-by-side on the table. One stack of papers was a compilation of the forensic investigations by both the San Francisco police and the FBI. They were almost identical. But his was two pages thicker, and he had highlighted the differences.

“I’ve dug up some stuff that your guy and the FBI both missed,” he said. “It was hidden pretty well, and it doesn’t surprise me that neither of you found it.”

“Why’s that?”

“One of the computers was encrypted at its most fundamental level—the basic input output system, or BIOS as it’s usually called. It’s almost impossible to decrypt a computer with that level of encryption, as the BIOS is directly linked to every component. Without the password you can’t access any peripherals linked to the computer, including the hard drive.”

“Jamie and the guys at the FBI never said they had trouble with any of the computers,” Sam said.

“Again, no surprises there. Unless they dismantled the systems, they wouldn’t have noticed the second hard drive. It operated like a computer within a computer, with its own BIOS. And that was the one with the high-level encryption.”

“So how did you bypass it?”

“It’s complicated, but I’ll keep it simple. I used a shorting jumper, then removed the power supply to the memory on the motherboard. Once I had wiped its memory clean I input my own password and reconnected the power supply. It’s a little more complicated than it sounds.”

“Okay. What did you find?”

He flipped the page over so Sam was looking at it right side up and pointed to the highlighted entries. “The drive was wiped clean, just like the others, and I had to get what I could out of the slack space. It looks like this might jibe with the Mexican connection. I think it’s an invoice for some sort of antique. It was ordered specifically by Edward Brand.”

“Negretti and Zambra telescope, Antigüedades Coloniart,” Sam read the line aloud. “Could be. Antigüedades is Spanish for antique, I think. Should be pretty easy to find the shop.”

Kelly nodded. “I think so.” His finger ran down the page. “There’s no address, but it says Zona Rosa down a little further in the text. And I know for sure that Zona Rosa is in Mexico City.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You know computers, you know Mexico City. What don’t you know?”

Kelly laughed. “That’s an easy one. Zona Rosa is quite famous. I’ve only been to Mexico City once, about fifteen years ago, but it was a cool place to visit even back then.”

Sam scratched his head and leaned back in his chair. “First the banks and now this. The Mexican connection is really entrenched in these computers. But so far, the FBI has nothing, not even a hint of where the money is, if it really is in one of the three Mexican banks we found earlier. You find anything else of interest?”

“There’s a few other words spread about the disc, but it’s mostly junk. I’ve highlighted it for you.”

Sam glanced at his watch and stood. “Thanks for coming in on short notice,” he said, extending his hand.

Kelly said, “Taylor’s one of the best people I’ve ever met in my life. I’d do anything for her. Glad I could help.”

“I’ll see you out,” Sam said.

They walked down the hall and Kelly asked, “Realistically, what are the chances?”

“Police work,” Sam responded, their footsteps echoing through the hallway, “Is just connecting the dots. Criminals inevitably leave clues, and those clues are like singular dots. String them together and a pattern will begin to emerge. This might be the break we need to get the investigation on track. Maybe, but there are no for-sures in this business. At least it’s something for Taylor and Alan.”

“They could use some good news.”

“Yeah, I think so. Every new bit of information is a bit of hope. They’re quickly running out of that. It’s been five weeks, give or take, since Brand disappeared with their money, and both of them are starting to think the trail is too cold to ever heat up again.”

“That’s the feeling I get,” Kelly agreed. “They’re resigned to the fact that the money is gone.”

“I’ll call them in the morning and let them know what we found.”

They reached the front door to the precinct, and the night clerk hit a button and opened the door. Sam thanked Kelly again for his help, then returned to the fourth floor. He arranged the printouts on his desk and spent another hour going over them, comparing Jamie’s work to Kelly’s. The two sets of data were almost identical except for the new scraps Kelly had found on the encrypted hard drive. He stared at what he suspected was the name of the antique shop. Antigüedades Coloniart. Was that the key? Was it the one detail Brand had missed?