Point Blank
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“Are they positioned right beneath the lawn mower?”
“No, they’re kind of on a diagonal, you know, like they want to be a little bit different. And the letters are thick, with all those curlicues hanging off them.”
“That’s great, Dewayne. You’ve got fine eyes, you took everything in. Okay, now look at the first word. Can you see it?”
Dewayne shook his head. “Man, I’m sorry, but I can’t read the words.”
Savich patted the young man’s arm. “That’s okay, Dewayne. Keep looking at the van. Tell me what else you see, anything unusual.”
“There’s nothing else, only lots of dirt.”
“Okay, the guy is driving out of the parking lot. Can you see a license plate?”
“The old guy’s really burning rubber, man, you can smell it. I didn’t have time to look at the plates if I’d even thought of it. They’re all dirty, too, just like the van. Wait a second. White. The license plate is white.”
Savich questioned Dewayne for several more minutes, but Dr. Hicks finally laid his hand on Savich’s arm. “His hard drive has crashed, Savich. That’s it.”
Savich nodded to Dr. Hicks, who told Dewayne how great he was going to feel in a moment, and woke him up.
Dr. Hicks shook the young man’s hand, told him the Boardroom also served an incredible sausage pizza. Savich said, “You were a tremendous help, Dewayne. Thank you. How would you like to meet the director of the FBI and have him thank you himself?”
“Cool.” Dewayne Malloy grinned up at Savich. “When can I meet him?”
“I’m calling right now,” Savich said. “Then I’d like you to meet with our sketch artist.”
TWO HOURS LATER, Savich, Sherlock, and four agents sat around the table in the CAU conference room.
“One week ago, Moses and Claudia left an old stolen Chevy van at Hooter’s Motel as a decoy, as a lure to make us think they were in that motel room. They were trying to kill cops.”
Sherlock said, “Bottom line, Dillon, Moses wanted to kill you. Killing anyone else was gravy.”
“And you, too, Sherlock,” Dane Carver said, “only a few hours later at Arlington National Cemetery.”
“But I was the one who got lucky,” Connie Ashley said. She looked good, Sherlock thought thankfully, even with her arm in a sling.
“My point is that they’ve probably been driving the Aerostar since then, and obviously had it in place near the motel. We now know from Dewayne’s description that it has an out-of-state license plate. They could have left the area to buy or steal the van a few days before they took Pinky.”
Ollie said, “Dewayne said the plates were white, right?”
At Savich’s nod, he continued, “I’m thinking Ohio plates; they’re the closest.”
Savich said, “Pursue that, Ollie, would you? I doubt they drove farther than that for the van. Dewayne also told us there’s a lawn mower on the side of the van, with some lettering, like a gardener’s van.”
Dane said, “They stole it then. I sure hope no one else is dead.”
Sherlock said, “So we have the color and make of the van, and a big lawn mower on its side that might as well read ‘Arrest Me.’ That, and an old man who doesn’t seem to change his clothes paired with a flashy blond teenager. How hard can that be?”
“You know what amazes me?” Ollie pointed to a glossy picture of a Ford Aerostar Savich had tacked to the board. “Moses didn’t even bother painting over the lawn mower or the writing on the side of the van.”
Dane Carver said, “The behavioral science folks have a take on that. They don’t think Moses Grace believes anyone can touch him. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone and can do as he pleases. Steve also said he may not be planning to get out of this alive. They think from the recordings he might be very ill, even dying.”
Savich shrugged. “I hope he doesn’t find out we made Claudia, that we have her picture.”
Ollie said, “Maybe I’m pushing it here but I don’t think Moses can read. The waitress said he ordered a hamburger, didn’t even look at the menu.”
“Good point, Ollie,” Savich said. “The thing is, though, he rigged a pretty sophisticated bomb at the motel. It’s true Claudia nearly brought it all down on him this time, but he just doesn’t seem that ignorant to me.”
Sherlock said, “Along with Claudia’s old ID photo, we have the sketches our artist put together with Dewayne Malloy. The three waitresses recognized them immediately when we faxed them the sketches so we know they’re right on.”
“No, they’re kind of on a diagonal, you know, like they want to be a little bit different. And the letters are thick, with all those curlicues hanging off them.”
“That’s great, Dewayne. You’ve got fine eyes, you took everything in. Okay, now look at the first word. Can you see it?”
Dewayne shook his head. “Man, I’m sorry, but I can’t read the words.”
Savich patted the young man’s arm. “That’s okay, Dewayne. Keep looking at the van. Tell me what else you see, anything unusual.”
“There’s nothing else, only lots of dirt.”
“Okay, the guy is driving out of the parking lot. Can you see a license plate?”
“The old guy’s really burning rubber, man, you can smell it. I didn’t have time to look at the plates if I’d even thought of it. They’re all dirty, too, just like the van. Wait a second. White. The license plate is white.”
Savich questioned Dewayne for several more minutes, but Dr. Hicks finally laid his hand on Savich’s arm. “His hard drive has crashed, Savich. That’s it.”
Savich nodded to Dr. Hicks, who told Dewayne how great he was going to feel in a moment, and woke him up.
Dr. Hicks shook the young man’s hand, told him the Boardroom also served an incredible sausage pizza. Savich said, “You were a tremendous help, Dewayne. Thank you. How would you like to meet the director of the FBI and have him thank you himself?”
“Cool.” Dewayne Malloy grinned up at Savich. “When can I meet him?”
“I’m calling right now,” Savich said. “Then I’d like you to meet with our sketch artist.”
TWO HOURS LATER, Savich, Sherlock, and four agents sat around the table in the CAU conference room.
“One week ago, Moses and Claudia left an old stolen Chevy van at Hooter’s Motel as a decoy, as a lure to make us think they were in that motel room. They were trying to kill cops.”
Sherlock said, “Bottom line, Dillon, Moses wanted to kill you. Killing anyone else was gravy.”
“And you, too, Sherlock,” Dane Carver said, “only a few hours later at Arlington National Cemetery.”
“But I was the one who got lucky,” Connie Ashley said. She looked good, Sherlock thought thankfully, even with her arm in a sling.
“My point is that they’ve probably been driving the Aerostar since then, and obviously had it in place near the motel. We now know from Dewayne’s description that it has an out-of-state license plate. They could have left the area to buy or steal the van a few days before they took Pinky.”
Ollie said, “Dewayne said the plates were white, right?”
At Savich’s nod, he continued, “I’m thinking Ohio plates; they’re the closest.”
Savich said, “Pursue that, Ollie, would you? I doubt they drove farther than that for the van. Dewayne also told us there’s a lawn mower on the side of the van, with some lettering, like a gardener’s van.”
Dane said, “They stole it then. I sure hope no one else is dead.”
Sherlock said, “So we have the color and make of the van, and a big lawn mower on its side that might as well read ‘Arrest Me.’ That, and an old man who doesn’t seem to change his clothes paired with a flashy blond teenager. How hard can that be?”
“You know what amazes me?” Ollie pointed to a glossy picture of a Ford Aerostar Savich had tacked to the board. “Moses didn’t even bother painting over the lawn mower or the writing on the side of the van.”
Dane Carver said, “The behavioral science folks have a take on that. They don’t think Moses Grace believes anyone can touch him. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone and can do as he pleases. Steve also said he may not be planning to get out of this alive. They think from the recordings he might be very ill, even dying.”
Savich shrugged. “I hope he doesn’t find out we made Claudia, that we have her picture.”
Ollie said, “Maybe I’m pushing it here but I don’t think Moses can read. The waitress said he ordered a hamburger, didn’t even look at the menu.”
“Good point, Ollie,” Savich said. “The thing is, though, he rigged a pretty sophisticated bomb at the motel. It’s true Claudia nearly brought it all down on him this time, but he just doesn’t seem that ignorant to me.”
Sherlock said, “Along with Claudia’s old ID photo, we have the sketches our artist put together with Dewayne Malloy. The three waitresses recognized them immediately when we faxed them the sketches so we know they’re right on.”
