Page 39 of Girl, Empty
‘I see.And what exactly are you hoping to find?’
‘Thomas Grayson’s last message wascell backdoor.Nothelp meortell my kids I love themor any of the things normal people say when they're dying.He used his final seconds to scratch two very specific words into a bank vault door.'
'And you think he was talking about his phone.'
'I think he was trying to tell us how the killer got in.Grayson was head of security.He knew systems.If someone found a way to bypass them, he'd know better than anyone how it was done.'
Riggs set the phone down and rubbed his temples.'So you want me to hack into a dead man's phone, violate a couple of laws, and hope we find something that justifies this career suicide.'
‘Ideally.’
‘What about this magic man?Maybe I should wait until you’ve spoken to him before I do anything crazy?’
‘Sounds reasonable.If he’s guilty, there’ll be no need to hack into this cell, so for our sakes let’s hope he’s guilty.’
‘We can dream.’
‘Are you okay with that?I know it’s risky, but…’
Riggs pocketed the cell quickly as a uniform passed by the door.He took his coffee from the machine and stared blankly into the liquid.‘I haven’t been a detective long, but I already know what the worst thing about this job is.’
‘The pay?’
‘That too, but I was going to say how the right thing and the legal thing aren’t always the same.I didn’t know Thomas Grayson, but I don’t think he deserved to suffocate in a bank vault.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘So if a little rogue activity can stop the next Thomas Grayson from dying the same way, then I’m in.’
Ella felt a new appreciation for the man in front of her.He had the two things cops needed to deliver justice; a spine and a good moral compass.He believed it, and she found she believed him.It was a rare enough thing to find.
‘Thank you, detective.’
‘And by the way, cell phones have nothing to do with computer science, so my degree is useless here.’
‘Oh.Really?’
‘Yeah, but luckily for you I spent my college years jailbreaking these things for fun.Let me know how the magic show goes.Try not to get sawn in half.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Murphy’s Pub was every Irish stereotype crammed into a thousand square feet of floor space.Green everything, with more shamrocks than Ella had ever seen in her life.The place was neither dead nor busy, and amongst the day drinkers and moms with strollers, it took Ella all of two seconds to spot David Lorraine.
‘There’s our boy,’ she said.
‘Hard to miss a man in that outfit,’ said Ripley.
Lorraine was dressed in a white suit with bright red shoes, and he was gesturing to a deck of cards that he’d spread out in front of a woman and toddler.Both spectators looked at the deck with equal apathy, but Lorraine seemed indifferent to their indifference.He continued his patter while Ella and Ripley took a seat in a booth nearby.Close enough to watch but far enough to plan.
Ella watched him move.She couldn’t hear the nuances of his script, but the woman snapped to attention when a card suddenly appeared in Lorraine’s shoe.The toddler seemed to like it too, and then Lorraine gave them a bow and turned his attention to the next table in the queue, which was theirs.He made eye contact from across the room and sauntered over.
‘Ladies, I know, magic is passé.I wouldn’t have booked me either, but can I interest you in a moment of wonder?’
‘Sure.Would you sit?’
‘I don’t sit.It’s bad for the angles.’
‘We insist,’ said Ripley.
