“Nothing actionable as yet. Cam’s working on it, so if anything exists he’ll find it. They weren’t even on the watch list.” Disgust deepened Mack’s tone.
Evan shook his head. “If these are our guys, they’ve been on their own for days and could be anywhere doing anything.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Kiley said. “If they’re meeting up with Waleed, Agent Quinn will have people waiting.”
“Let’s hope so,” Mack said. “By the way, Cam wanted me to tell you he finished checking with cab and rideshare companies for the port area. No one picked up our suspects, so they either had a private ride or hoofed it.”
Kiley had to admit to being disappointed again. She’d hoped this would turn into a strong lead. “Thanks, Mack. Keep me updated. Any time of day.”
“Yeah, sure. And hey, we’re gonna find these guys.”
“I know,” she said, and she believed it. She really did. She just wasn’t sure they’d find them in time.
Her stomach now burned with acid, and she shoved the coffee mug aside before she added to the problem. Evan sat back, his eyes narrowed as he stared at his mug. She didn’t have time to waste brooding, so she opened DMV records and searched for vehicles registered to Waleed. A Toyota Land Cruiser came up first, the very vehicle Evan had photographed in the alley. Next up was a Honda Accord, then a BMW M6 convertible.
“Waleed has three vehicles.” She swiveled the monitor to face Evan.
He squinted at the screen. “Some pricey ones there.”
She nodded. “I’ll get the ALPR search going.”
Her team had long ago gotten access to the local ALPR database and other D.C. police data, so she opened the program and entered all three of Waleed’s plate numbers. She watched the search run, her brain spinning almost as fast as the circular icon on her screen. They investigated so many leads in a very short period of time, and yet they didn’t have anything actionable.
Please let this be one that is.
Her computer dinged, returning a long list of records. She sorted by date and ran her finger down the screen. “Nothing for the night of Firuzeh’s murder.”
“Maybe he scouted out the location in advance,” Evan said. “Can you sort by address?”
She nodded and made the change. She scrolled down the page. “Nothing near the mall at all going back a month.”
“What about trying his brother’s vehicles?”
“Good idea.” She started at the beginning and ran the report for Ibrahim. “Nothing for that night.”
“I guess we shouldn’t be surprised,” Evan said. “Nasim is smart enough to rent or borrow a vehicle.”
She nodded. “So I’ll do a location search and have local agents check out every car near the mall that night.”
Evan’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She knew the report would be long, and it was unlikely even with the additional staff working the investigation that they had enough manpower to check out a large number of vehicles before 9/11 rolled around. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. She generated the report and emailed it to Eisenhower, who, to her surprise, wasn’t still in the office.
“Kiley, good.” Agent Harrison’s cheerful voice came from behind. “I was just going to text you.”
Kiley faced the younger woman, whose pantsuit was rumpled. “What’s up?”
She held out a plastic evidence bag containing a legal-sized envelope. “Someone mailed this letter at the Abeds’ mailbox place with Box 342 as the return address. We ran it for prints and DNA. No match on the prints. DNA is processing. Text is nonsensical. I’m wondering if it’s code.”
Interesting.Kiley put on latex gloves from a drawer and held out her hand.
Harrison handed over the envelope holding bold scrawling penmanship addressed to B. Amari at a post-office box in central D.C.
The Pittsburgh bomber?
She showed the envelope to Evan. He perked up. She gave him a warning look to keep silent, as Harrison didn’t have clearance to be read in on the bombing.
Kiley’s heart was racing over the potential lead. Still, she forced a casual tone into her voice to keep from raising Harrison’s interest. “Any progress in finding the account holder for that box?”
The rookie shook her head. “We exhausted all possibilities. Figure he used the poet’s name so it couldn’t lead anywhere.”
