Niceville

Quantum Park and as you know—”
    “Yes, I do, that’s your client, and of course if your guys hear anything—”
    “Cap City got any leads yet?”
    “Like I said, CID’s not in on this. From where I’m sitting, they had insider info, so Boonie Hackendorff is looking at that, at the bank staff and the people at Wells Fargo. And it’s pretty obvious the shooter was a pro, and the likely weapon was a Barrett .50—”
    “That ought to narrow the list, sir, you know, cross-check Barrett sales with military and professional shooters?”
    “Yeah,” said Tig, with a sigh. “And that narrows it down to a couple of thousand people, even if we stick with the continental United States. And that’s not even counting private civilian shooters, some of whom are as good as any pro. Speaking of that, your guy Holliman is giving us a hell of a headache.”
    “What’s he doing?”
    “Well, from what I’m hearing, he spent most of last night going through Tin Town and the club district like General Sherman, putting people up against walls and raising holy hell with all our snitches and CIs. He’s back at it right now, down by the Pavilion—apparently it’s all about the robbery—which I totally get—like we said—but I gotta tell you, Byron, his methods really suck. Boonie Hackendorff is going to be calling you about him, and Marty Coors is ready to have State CID bust him on interfering with police, so maybe you’ll wanna jerk his chain some?”
    “Jeez, Tig. I’m real sorry about that. I did tell him to get on the street and talk to people, but not like that. I’ll get him to back off, okay?”
    “Yeah, well, that would be good. He’s getting people all stirred up and too scared to talk. Anyway, this is not why I called. You really think you can help us trace this e-mailer sleazebag?”
    “You can confirm it was the same guy who contacted you who sent the e-mails to the press?”
    “Yes. I mean, that’s the way it looks. We asked for the
Niceville Register
copy, and the one sent to Channel Seven, and the one sent direct to the church. They’re all identical. The one we got was sent last night around two in the morning. The other three went out this morning before ten.”
    “Maybe the guy got impatient. Was looking for something to happen.”
    “He got the reaction he wanted, in spades, once it got to the television guys. They contacted the church, the pastor was already looking at his copy of the e-mail—had just sent for Dennison, who was already in the building—they were talking about it, still pretty calm—and the news guys started showing up, Dennison freaked, and things went straight to shit. I want this asshole taken down, Byron. When can you get a guy here?”
    “Don’t need to. Just forward everything you’ve got to—you got a pen?—okay, write this down
—techserve
—one word
—techserve at Securicom dot com slash AndyChu
. Got that?”
    “Yeah,” said Tig, reading the address back. “And the name again? Andy …?”
    “Andy Chu, only it’s one word,
AndyChu
, in the e-mail address. Okay?”
    “Got it.”
    “I’ll call Andy right away, give him a heads-up. Andy’s the best there is, could have something for you by the end of the day, maybe even sooner.”
    “Thanks, Byron. I really appreciate this.”
    “Happy to help. And you know, while I got you, if you think of it, anything you can let me know, how the investigation into the Gracie thing is going—you know, way off the record, cop to cop?—well, I’d take it as a professional kindness. My clients are pretty spooked and I’d like to be able to reassure them. So far, it’s just the money, right? Nothing else you’re hearing about?”
    There was a silence, during which Mr. Thad secretly swallowed his third Happy Cap of the day and Byron ground his molars some more, thinking that he had pushed this too far.
    “Don’t know what else there could be, Byron. It was a straightforward bank job. Why, has one of your companies reported anything missing?”
    Shit
, thought Deitz.
Guy’s much too quick. Just shut the fuck up, will you?
    “No. Nothing like that. Just trying to narrow the field, see if there was anything that stood out.”
    “Well, now you know what I know. I hear anything, I’ll give you a call. And I’ll get that e-mail stuff to you right away.”
    Tig clicked off, and for a moment the two of them—Thad and Deitz—sat there listening to the rain pattering on the roof and to each other