The Whole Truth (A. Shaw 1)
“There.” She pointed the bottom of the screen where she’d enlarged the grid section.
“It’s the rear fender of the Mercedes. So what?”
“It’s a black Mercedes.”
“Really? Hell, I thought it was white,” he said a little heatedly. “Get to the point.”
“Hey, keep your pissy attitude under control.” She nicked the screen with her fingernail. “The car is black, but that spot is blue. And gold.” She pointed to another smudge of color. “And red.”
“I noticed that before. We all did. It’s a sticker on the bumper. But that’s all you can see. No writing. It could be anything. The techs already enlarged it and came up empty.”
“I know that. But wait a minute.” Katie was hitting keys, enlarging the section even more. Now was revealed a red top bar, a short line of gold, and a background of deep blue. Katie hit another key, zooming in on the gold and red parts.
“We’ve seen that, Katie,” Shaw said, studying her intense expression. “What’s the big deal?”
“When I saw it the first time, I thought I knew that pattern, but nothing came to me so I just thought I was mistaken. But now that I’m looking at it again I know I’ve seen it before. Somewhere. It’s bugging the crap out of me.” She looked at Shaw’s jacket hanging on the chair. She touched the breast pocket. “Damn, that’s it. That’s it!”
Her hands flew over the keyboard. She got back online and did a Google search.
When the screen revealed the answer to her query Shaw gaped as he stared at the top of the page.
It was a crest with a red top bar, a blue shield, and a gold X with a red crown in the center. It seemed a fleshed-out match for the bit of sticker visible on the bumper.
Shaw read the name at the top of the screen. “St. Albans School?”
She nodded. “I told you my dad grew up in Washington? Well, he went to St. Albans. It’s an exclusive private boys’ school in D.C.” She held up the sleeve of Shaw’s coat. “He still has a jacket with that crest on it. That’s where I remember seeing it. And I bet our guy has a son that goes or went there.”
A second later Katie was lifted into the air. Shaw’s strength was such that he had done it solely with his good arm.
“Great work, Katie,” he said into her ear.
He put her down and turned his attention to the screen while she looked slightly flustered.
She said, “So we tell Royce and Frank. They can search St. Albans’s database, get a list of names, we match it to vehicle registrations, and we find the black Mercedes and our guy.”
“Do you think we can find that out without calling Royce and Frank?” He didn’t look at her when he said this.
She answered hesitantly. “I don’t know. I mean, you’d probably need a search warrant.”
“But you said your father went there. That might make a difference.”
“Maybe, but I can’t access vehicle registrations. And why don’t you want to call them?” She looked uncomfortably at Shaw.
He turned, towering above her. She unconsciously took another step back.
“Why do you think?” he said bluntly.
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Sure you do. You’re a smart woman.” He nodded at the screen. “Smart enough to have seen that when none of us did.”
“I can’t help you do what you want to do, Shaw.” Her voice was tinged with a quiet desperation.
“Getting squeamish on me all of a sudden? Worrying about the rights of others? Innocent until the trial lawyers cover up the truth so no one can find it and the guilty walk free?”
“I don’t give a damn about the people who did this. They can rot in hell.”
“So what’s the problem then?”