so she comes out right, then the other guys will come out right as
well, assuming they’ve all got two ears and so on, like I said. And
bring me a square of tile off the store’s floor and one of those smocks
the counter woman was wearing.”
“What for?” McGrath said.
“So I can use them to decode the grays in the video,” the tech said.
Then I can give you your mug shots in color.”
The commander selected six women from that morning’s punishment detail.
He used the ones with the most demerits, because the task was going to
be hard and unpleasant. He stood them at attention and drew his huge
bulk up to its full height in front of them. He waited to see which of
them would be the first to glance away from his face. When he was
satisfied none of them dared to, he explained their duties. The blood
had sprayed all over the room, hurled around by the savage centrifugal
force of the blade. Chips of bone had spattered everywhere. He told
them to heat water in the cook house and carry it over in buckets. He
told them to draw scrubbing brushes and rags and disinfectant from the
stores. He told them they had two hours to get the room looking
pristine again. Any longer than that, they would earn more demerits.
It took two hours to get the data. Milosevic and Brogan went out to
the dry-cleaning establishment. They closed the place down and swarmed
all over it like surveyors. They drew a plan with measurements
accurate to the nearest quarter-inch. They took the camera off the
wall and brought it back with them. They tore up the floor and took
the tiles. They took two smocks from the woman and two posters off the
wall, because they thought they might help with the colorizing process.
Back on the sixth floor of the Federal Building, the tech chief took
another two hours to input the data. Then he ran the test, using Holly
Johnson to calibrate the program.
“What do you think?” he asked McGrath.
McGrath looked hard at the full-face picture of Holly. Then he passed
it around. Milosevic got it last and stared at it hardest. Covered
some parts with his hand and frowned.
“Makes her look too thin,” he said. “I think the bottom right quarter
is wrong. Not enough width there, somehow.”
“I agree,” McGrath said. “Makes her jaw look weird.”
The tech chief exited to a menu screen and adjusted a couple of
numbers. Ran the test again. The laser printer whirred. The sheet of
stiff paper came out.
That’s better,” McGrath said. “Just about on the nose.”
“Color OK?” the tech asked.
“Should be a darker peach,” Milosevic said. “On her dress. I know
that dress. Some kind of an Italian thing.”
The tech exited to a color palette.
“Show me,” he said.
Milosevic pointed to a particular shade.
“More like that,” he said.
They ran the test again. The hard disk chattered and the laser printer
whirred.
“That’s better,” Milosevic said. “Dress is right. Hair color is
better as well.”
“OK,” the tech said. He saved all the parameters to disk. “Let’s go
to work here.”
The FBI never uses latest-generation equipment. The feeling is better
to use stuff that has been proven in the field. So the tech chiefs
computer was actually a little slower than the computers in the rich
kids’ bedrooms up and down the North Shore. But not much slower. It
gave McGrath five prints within forty minutes. Four mug shots of the
four kidnapers, and a close-up side view of the front half of their
car. All in glowing color, all with the grain enhanced and smoothed
away. McGrath thought they were the best damn pictures he had ever
seen.
“Thanks, chief,” he said. These are brilliant. Best work anybody has
done around here for a long time. But don’t say a word. Big secret,
right?”
He clapped the tech on the shoulder and left him feeling like the most
important guy in the whole building.
The six women worked hard and finished just before their two hours were