PATRICIA CORNWELL. FROM POTTER’S FIELD

‘What’s on your mind?’ she asked me.

‘Tell me what happened when the body of the unidentified woman we believe Gault killed was found Christmas Eve. How was CAIN a factor?’

‘The body was found in Central Park early in the morning, and of course I heard about it immediately. As I’ve already mentioned, the MO sounded familiar, so I entered details into CAIN to see what came back. This would have been by late afternoon.’

‘And what came back?’

‘Very quickly CAIN called our VICAP terminal with a request for more information.’

‘Can you recall exactly what sort of information?’

She thought for a moment. ‘Well, let’s see. It was interested in the mutilation, wanting to know from which parts of the body skin had been excised and what class cutting instrument had been used. It wanted to know if there had been a sexual assault, and if so, was the penetration oral, vaginal, anal or other. Some of this we couldn’t know since an autopsy had not yet been performed. However, we did manage to get other information by calling the morgue.’

‘What about other questions?’ I asked. ‘Did CAIN ask anything that struck you as peculiar or inappropriate?’

‘Not that I’m aware of.’ She regarded me quizzically.

‘Has CAIN ever sent any messages to the Transit Police terminal that have struck you as peculiar or confusing?’

She thought some more. ‘We’ve entered, at the most, twenty cases since going on-line in November. Rapes, assaults, homicides that I thought might be relevant to VICAP because the circumstances were unusual or the victims were unidentified.

‘And the only messages from CAIN that I’m aware of have been routine requests for further information. There has been no sense of urgency until this Central Park case. Then CAIN sent an Urgent mail waiting message in flashing bold because the system had gotten a hit.’

‘Should you get any messages that are out of the ordinary, Frances, please contact Benton Wesley immediately,’

‘Would you mind telling me what it is you’re looking for?’

‘There was a breach of security at ERF in October. Someone broke in at three in the morning, and circumstances indicate Gault may have been behind it.’

‘Gault?’ Commander Perm was baffled. ‘How could that have happened?’

‘One of ERF’s system analysts, as it turned out, was connected to a spy shop in northern Virginia that was frequented by Gault. We know this analyst – a woman – was involved in the break-in, and the fear is that Gault put her up to it.’

‘Why?’

‘What wouldn’t he like better than to get inside CAIN and have at his disposal a database containing the details of the most horrendous crimes committed in the world?’

‘Isn’t there some way to keep him out?’ she asked. ‘To tighten security so there is no way he or anyone else can slip through the system?’

‘We thought that had been taken care of,’ I replied. ‘In fact, my niece, who is their top programmer, was certain the system was secure.’

‘Oh yes. I think I’ve heard about your niece. She’s really CAIN’s creator.’

‘She has always been gifted with computers and would rather be around them than most people.’

‘I’m not sure I blame her. What is her name?’

‘Lucy.’

‘And she’s how old?’

‘Twenty-one.’

She got up from the couch. ‘Well, maybe there’s just some glitch that is causing these weird messages you’re speaking of. A bug. And Lucy will figure it out.’

‘We can always hope.’

‘Bring your wine and you can keep me company in the kitchen,’ she said.

But we did not get that far before her telephone rang. Commander Penn answered it and I watched the pleasant evening drain from her face.

‘Where?’ she quietly said, and I knew the tone of voice quite well. I recognized the frozen stare.

I was already opening the hall closet door to fetch my coat when she said, I’ll be right there.’

Snow had begun drifting down like ashes when we arrived at the Second Avenue subway station in the squalid section of lower Manhattan known as the Bowery.

Wind howled and blue and red lights throbbed as if the night were injured, and stairs leading into that hellhole had been cordoned off. Derelicts had been herded out, commuters had been detoured, and news vans and cars were arriving in droves because an officer with the Transit Police Homeless Unit was dead.

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