chapter fifty-six

My next call was to San Diego P.D. By the time we disconnected, they were on route to pick up my mother, having assured me they would keep her safe in the downtown station. My follow up call was to Jim Mar. He’d received the blood spot from my mother and had already started on an expedited comparison with the resistant genome.

By then the fire department had calmed the blaze at the Santa Monica Airport. Forensics had found two bodies in Sandy Rose’s Mercedes, a male and a female. Both were badly incinerated, but forensics would have positive identifications soon.

“We got a sighting on Nieto,” Shin said a moment later. “Security cameras spotted him exiting the Red Line at North Hollywood and heading into a men’s room. No sign of him exiting from there.”

“He’s probably disguised,” I said.

“Yeah,” Shin said. “Uniforms found the black jacket he was wearing in the men’s room trash can. We’re scanning for a facial recognition match. No matches yet.”

We had a 3D biometric face print on Nieto, but fake teeth or even a hat and oversized glasses could still outsmart facial recognition software. Since he’d known enough to ditch the jacket, Nieto would probably have found a way to run interference on the software too.

“The Red Line dead ends in North Hollywood,” Shin said. “That’s between two airports: Van Nuys and Burbank. We’re checking with the Orange Line and all the cab and ride share companies too. Plus car rentals.”

The unspoken question was clear to us both. Where would Nieto go next?

“I think I know where he’s headed,” I said and put in a call to the Genesys CEO straight away.

Maclaren’s assistant told me the CEO was “unavailable.”

“Make him available. Tell him Detective Piedmont thinks he’s about to get a visit from Nieto.”

Shin and I raced down the elevator to the parking garage. Shin was headed for the Burbank Airport. Timbo from NOHO Homicide would cover Van Nuys.“Anybody even suspects Nieto’s there,” Shin said, “call for back up.” Shin reached out and grabbed my arm. “Do not try to take him on your own.”

I nodded as Shin took the detective sedan and I jumped in my Porsche. As I switched on the ignition, Jim Mar called me back.

“You sitting down?” Jim pulled up the two bloodspots, one the source genome and one labeled Piedmont. They floated between us on the glove phone. To my eyes they looked like a match.

“She’s the source genome, isn’t she?” I said, feeling my diaphragm tighten. “My mother.”

“No,” Jim said, shaking his head.

“She’s not?” I puffed out a short breath that was almost a laugh, then inhaled in what felt like my first deep breath in days. “Then why?”

“You are,” Jim said. “You’re the source genome, Eddie.”