Page 70 of Shadow of Doubt

“Four,” MoMo responded, isolating the vehicles, along with footage of their drivers walking in and out of the garage.

“What about gait recognition? Do any of the drivers match our suspect—with or without his limp?”

The young man typed in a command for the AI, but then shook his head. “No match.”

Gibert smiled when he recognized what software they were using. “None of this will ever be admissible in court.”

“It’s never going to see a court,” she responded. “The minute we step away from this desk, it’s all going to be deleted.”

“We just don’t have the storage capacity to hang on to these training simulations,” MoMo said grinning as he tried something else. “If our suspect snuck into the garage via the Métro tunnels, maybe that’s how he snuck out in the first place.”

“Meaning someone might have driven into the garage with him in the trunk, left the empty car there, and then drove back out with him once the job was finished?”

“Exactly.”

Brunelle and Gibert watched as the young man accessed the network of street cameras and zeroed in on the feed showing the faux façade airshaft on the Rue de Chapon. MoMo then pulled up the footage from Sunday and set the AI loose.

The moment he engaged it, the AI got a match. Their suspect could be seen exiting the little blue door. MoMo’s hunch had been correct.

Now that they knew how the suspect had traveled to and from the National Archives, they only needed to figure out which vehicle was his.

“This one,” said MoMo, enlarging an image of a chalk-colored Peugeot sedan. “And here’s the footage of the driver.”

“Can you get a better shot of his face?” Gibert asked.

The young man shook his head. “Nope. He paid close attention to where the cameras were and made sure we wouldn’t get a good look.”

“Just like his partner at the archives,” Brunelle stated. “These people knew what they were doing.”

“Like I said,” Gibert remarked. “Professionals. Can you zoom in on the license plate?”

MoMo did and Gibert texted the number to his office. And though la Crim wasn’t using AI, yet, he received an answer back rather quickly.

“The vehicle was stolen sometime early Sunday morning. It was discovered last night in Seine-Saint-Denis. Torched. It took longer than it should have to extinguish the flames. Firefighters believe some kind of special accelerant was used. I wouldn’t hold out much hope for recovering any evidence.”

“Think there are any witnesses?” Brunelle asked.

“In Seine-Saint-Denis? Who will talk to the police?” Gibert replied, shaking his head. “Less than zero.”

MoMo chuckled.

“Why are you laughing?” the cop asked.

“Because you’re wrong,” the young man answered. “It’s not that the people from Seine-Saint-Denis don’t want to talk with the police. It’s that the police don’t know how to talk with the people from Seine-Saint-Denis.”

Gibert looked at him. “How would you know?”

“Because I’m from Seine-Saint-Denis. If there are any witnesses there, you need the right person to get them to talk.”

“And who would that be?”

Dead serious, MoMo responded, “Me.”

CHAPTER 33

Gibert wanted it clear, for the record, that he didn’t just think this was a bad idea, he thought it was terrible.

Considering MoMo’s family history, he was one of the last people they should be going into Seine-Saint-Denis with.

---