The Color of Greed (Raja Williams 1) (19 page)

The fact that nothing had yet been found in the
crushed wreckage of the BMW meant Vinny might be alive. Raja was
certain he would find Vinny and she would be all right. She had to
be. She was Tinkerbell to his Peter Pan—magic and immortal.
Nothing could separate them. Nothing would. “Get me out of
here,” said Raja.

“Listen up, cowboy. You’re lucky I know
the desk sergeant at the Central Division, or you would be in an FBI
office by now. You can not threaten to kill a serving governor.”

“Well, I did. And I meant it, too.”

“Keep that to yourself, numb nuts. The officer
processing your paperwork is coming.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,
Detective,” said the officer, handing him a clipboard. “You
see who the complainant is.”

“I am aware.” Rafferty signed the
release form.

The officer studied his signature.

“Don’t worry, this is all on me,”
said Rafferty.

“You bet it is,” said the officer,
unlocking the door to the cell. “You are free to go,” he
said to Raja.

Raja followed Rafferty, first to get his personal
belongings, and then to get outside the station house. At the bottom
of the steps, Rafferty turned and confronted him. “You are
technically in my custody. I need to know you won’t do anything
stupid.”

“You have my word.”

“I need a blood oath.”

“You have a knife?”

“Okay, come on. I’ll take you to the
impound lot to get your car.” On the ride to the lot, Raja
stared out the window, saying nothing.

“Look, Raja, we will do whatever we have to do
to find Vinny. You know that. You need to let us do our jobs.”

“I know.”

Rafferty greased the line to get the Ferrari
released from the impound lot, and warned Raja once more about
staying away from the governor. He watched the Ferrari drive off.
Despite all of Raja’s assurances, Rafferty knew how bad it was
to be in Raja’s position. He himself had lost a partner in the
line of duty. Although ten years had passed since the tragedy,
Rafferty still ran through the events in his head every day,
wondering if he could have done something to prevent the outcome.

Raja pulled into the Studio City garage where the
forensics team was still working on the wreckage.

“Anything new?” asked Raja, forcing
himself to confront the possibility that Vinny was inside the twisted
wreckage.

“No sign of anyone inside yet,” offered
one of the technicians.

Relieved, Raja went upstairs. He poured himself a
scotch and sipped it while he stared at the computer screen he had
gotten for Vinny. She had insisted she didn’t need it, but it
made him feel good to give it to her anyway. Now it sat there doing
nothing. Just like he was. He felt like smashing the whole thing.

Suddenly a picture flickered on the glass computer
screen. Raja jumped up to see what it was. The scene came into focus,
showing Vinny strapped into a chair in the middle of a room. Other
than a spotlight shining on Vinny, the room was dimly lit. There was
dried blood on her nose and lip. Vinny moved. It was a live feed.
Raja exhaled instinctively. Vinny was alive.

“I hope joo enjoyed our performance so far,”
said a man’s voice from behind the camera. “As joo can
see, no one was harmed in the making of dees film—for now. Ha,
Ha, Ha. Funny, jes? Joo have ten minutes to call dees number.”
The camera settled on a piece of paper with a phone number written on
it.

Raja didn’t have time to read it twice before
the connection ended. Raja pressed the timer on his watch. He thought
he recognized the man’s voice from the video feed. First he
called Detective Rafferty at the police station. It went to voice
mail.

“Tommy. It’s Raja. I need your help.
Vinny is in trouble. Call me. Hurry.” He didn’t need to
say more. The panic in his voice would say it all. Then he texted the
same message to Tommy’s cell.

Raja looked at his watch—there were only seven
minutes left. Damn it. He had to think this one through. What did
they want? It had to be something on Vinny’s computer, and most
likely the sex tape of the governor and Cherry Long. If that got out
in the media, it would end his political career. Raja fumbled with
the computer screen trying to locate the file.

Whatever they wanted, Raja knew giving it up would
be a death sentence for Vinny. But what choice did he have? He needed
a better play. For that he needed to find Vinny.

Three minutes left. How the hell could he do this
without Vinny? This was Vinny’s fault. Her and her damn
computer crap. She dug too deep this time. Found out too much. How
was he supposed to put the genie back in the bottle without getting
her killed. Damn you, Vinny.

One minute. He called the number.

“Jes, Mr. Williams. Good joo called.”

“Whatever you want I will give you. Just don’t
hurt her. But, I’m not sure I know how to do it. I’m not
a techie.”

“I do not think I believe joo.”

“If you hurt Vinny, you will regret it.”

“That eez really up to joo, Mr. Williams.”

The live feed reappeared on the computer screen. The
sight of Vinny strapped into a chair rattled Raja.

“I can’t give you what I can’t
find.”

“That eez all right. My boss eez confident
that Miss Moore will be able to help.” The man ripped the duct
tape off Vinny’s mouth.

Vinny spit at him.

The man slapped her hard, drawing fresh blood from
her nose. In doing so he also stepped in front of the camera long
enough for Raja to recognize him. The wife-beater shirt, the slick
wavy hair. It was Fernando Hierra Lopez, the man who killed Ramona
Griggsby.

“I would not waste time if I were joo,”
said Fernando. “He eez not a patient man.”

“Who?” Raja and Vinny said in unison.

Fernando reached for and pressed a button somewhere
near the computer camera. “Go ahead, sir.”

A gravelly voice that sounded electronic spoke.
“First, you are going to make an internet connection. An IM
will do.” An instant message appeared on Raja’s screen.

“Please accept,” said the voice.

Raja pressed yes.

“Very good. Now, I’m going to need Miss
Moore to let me into her system.”

“The hell I will,” shouted Vinny. She
looked straight into the video feed. “Don’t do it, Raja.
Take these bastards down. Forget about me.”

Another slap from Fernando interrupted her.

The gravelly voice continued calmly. “I will
walk you through it. May I call you Raja?”

“Call me whatever you want, but don’t
hurt Vinny.”

After having Raja connect Vinny’s computer to
an online network, the voice said, “Very good, Raja. Now all we
need is Miss Moore’s backdoor password.”

“No,” said Vinny, shaking her head
vigorously. Fernando approached her with his hand ready to strike.

“Give it to him,” shouted Raja. “Give
it to him now. We’ll find another way.” Then he spoke
softly. “Please, Vinny. Don’t do this to me.”

Vinny stared into space for a moment, and then
sighed. She explained the backdoor she had built into her system that
would tunnel past all the security encryption. Thirty seconds later,
the glass screen in front of Raja whirred into action, with data
flashing and disappearing from the screen. Whole files were being
deleted. Raja looked at his watch. He needed more time. He needed a
plan.

Five minutes later, the screen image stopped
shifting. The voice in the box said, “Ahhh, that wasn’t
so hard now, was it? We are all professionals. And, Miss Moore I must
tell you, your skills are impressive. Under different circumstances,
we could have made beautiful music together. Because of that, I do
regret what now must happen. But, I’m afraid Fernando is a much
different sort of creature than you or I. He has two main
appetites—pain and sex. The prospect of both he finds
irresistible.”

“You’ve got what you want. Let her go,”
said Raja angrily.

“I’m afraid it is out of my hands.”

Fernando sneered and pulled something from his
pocket. With a sudden flash the thin blade of the stiletto knife
snapped into place.

“Okay, chica, joo might as well get
comfortable. Joo and I are going to be here a while,” said
Fernando, smiling.

“You bastard,” Raja shouted, impotently.

Fernando reached toward the camera and the
connection went blank.

Raja’s heart sank.

Chapter Thirty-eight: Back Door Man

After doing everything he could think of to find
Vinny, Detective Rafferty needed a break. He hadn’t eaten all
day. So it was, he was sitting in a booth at the Denny’s on
Sunset Boulevard enjoying the dinner special when his phone beeped.
It was a text message.

The thing was, he never got text messages. He didn’t
even know he had text on his phone. Rafferty swallowed a mouthful of
mashed potatoes and squinted at the tiny screen. The text said,
“Tommy. It’s Raja. I need your help. Vinny is in trouble.
Call me. Hurry.” That was it. When he called the number, there
was a series of strange beeps and clicks, and then the call
disconnected. When he called again, the number was busy.

Rafferty knew how hard Raja was taking this whole
mess. What the hell did Raja expect him to do? Rafferty chewed on
another piece of Salisbury steak and pondered the message, finally
deciding it must have been an old one. He was about to ask the
waitress for the check, when his phone rang. It was the computer
forensics department at the police station.

“Detective Rafferty?”

“Yeah.”

“This is Lieutenant Fong. You won’t
believe what just happened.” The computer technician launched
into a story that meant little to the detective until Fong finally
got to an address in Los Angeles, a location where Vinny might be
found. Rafferty jumped up and dropped a twenty on the table, and ran
out while the lieutenant continued his technical explanation.

“Tell me later,” said Rafferty. “Call
for backup to that address. Code Two—no lights, no sirens. I’m
on the way.”

Rafferty got there first. It was a small, one-story
garden apartment building with a central courtyard on North Figueroa
near Mount Washington. No way he was going to wait for anyone else to
arrive. Rafferty pulled out his gun, and prowled cautiously into the
courtyard. He located the door numbered 7. The shades were drawn,
preventing him from seeing inside. Rafferty released the safety on
his gun, kicked in the door and yelled, “Police,”
surprising Fernando who stood over Vinny on the far side of the room.
Rafferty saw the knife rise up and pulled off two quick shots, one
that hit a shoulder and spun Fernando around, and one in the chest
that finished him off.

In three strides Rafferty reached Vinny’s
side. He looked her over, checking for major damage. Her blouse was
torn open and there were several small cuts above her right breast.
The tear and mascara stains on her cheeks told the rest of the story.
Rafferty untied her and covered her with his suit jacket.

By the time Raja arrived at the scene, Rafferty was
standing near the door of the apartment giving a statement on the
shooting to a Force Investigations officer from the LAPD.

“Is she okay?” asked Raja.

“Yeah, she is.”

“How the hell did you find her?” asked
Raja.

“Ask her,” said Rafferty, thumbing
toward Vinny. A medic was putting the finishing touch to a butterfly
on Vinny’s chest.

When Raja walked over to her, Vinny stood up.

“I almost lost you,” he said
dramatically.

“True dat, boss.”

Raja hugged her tightly.

“Hey, you’ll smear my makeup,” she
said.

Raja held her away from him, looking her in the eye.
“Vinny, what are you grinning about?”

“The data.”

“How is that funny? I thought it was all
erased.”

“So did they, Raj, so did they. I had to make
it convincing. How did I do?”

“You mean it wasn’t erased?”

“Yes, technically it was, but the program
simultaneously made an undetectable mirror copy of all the data on a
separate cloud.”

“How is that possible?”

“I’d tell you, but then I would have to
kill you.”

“Speaking of getting killed, you almost were.”

“Like you always say, almost only counts in
darts and hand grenades. By the way, don’t count on getting
your deposit back on the BMW.”

“My god, girl, I love you.”

“Yes, you do, bro. Yes, you do.”

Despite Vinny’s protests, Raja insisted on a
trip to the hospital for any care that she needed after her ordeal
with Fernando. He waited while the doctor ran a few tests and checked
her bandages. Confident that she would be okay, Raja drove her back
to the loft. The police had already disposed of the crushed car cube
when they pulled into the garage. Raja wanted to help Vinny out of
the car, but refrained, knowing it would offend the tough-guy
attitude she maintained about herself.

Once inside the loft, Vinny plopped down on the
couch, happy to be home. Raja exhaled loudly, relieved that she was
safe.

“Vinny, I know what you can do with a
computer, but how in the world did you manage to send your location
to Detective Rafferty while you were tied up in a chair?”

“I didn’t. It is an automated security
program I designed and linked to your phone and to the computer
system at the loft. Unless I manually enter my code, one minute later
the counter-measures of the security program execute. When I first
got to Los Angeles, I set the program to contact the LAPD computer
tech division in the event of any unauthorized use of my backdoor,
giving them any relevant GPS coordinates. I counted on them acting,
which they did.”

“Here’s the message it sends.”
Vinny activated something on the computer. A recording of Vinny’s
voice said, “This call means that my computer program has been
compromised from an outside source. I have initiated an automatic
satellite trace from my terminal to this phone and to an outside
line. You will be able to triangulate the locations using the
following frequencies.”