Middle Of Nowhere

   Dispatch reported that Phil Shoswitz had arrived to act as the surveillance team's coordinator. Shoswitz knew his way around mobile surveillance.

   The bicyclist kept up with the eastbound city bus without much trouble due to the vehicle's frequent stops. Shoswitz deployed the Ford, the van and four cruisers around an extended perimeter as a safety net. The chess match had begun. Boldt's team had to prepare for Samway's departure at any bus stop; at the same time they had to be prepared to follow a moving bus.

   The strategy paid off. Courtney Samway disembarked the 7 line and gathered with others awaiting the 60, unaware that just fifteen feet away, a plainclothes policeman monitored her every movement. Samway placed a quick call from a corner pay phone, a call that was not monitored, but would be the cause of much legal wrangling immediately following. Deputy prosecuting attorney Lacey Delgato would battle with the courts to be given access to the pay telephone's call sheet, a situation that had legal precedent on her side, but a liberal court's policy toward expectation of privacy working against her. Boldt believed absolutely that the call had been placed to Flek, in all probability to a cell phone—across the street, across town, across country, he couldn't be sure until that call sheet was made available.

   "What does it matter?" Gaynes asked. "It's bound to be a cloned phone. It's not like we'll lift a physical address."

   "Triangulation," Boldt answered. "It's got to be a cell phone. That works in our favor." Cellular service providers possessed software to locate an individual cellular phone using radio triangulation methodology developed for the military in World War II. Currently the technology was used to locate 911 emergency calls placed from cellular phones. Law enforcement had been quick to take advantage of the existing technology, tracking down drug dealers and gang members. The technology was currently slow however, and Boldt was caught unprepared to deploy it.

   "What do you want to bet," Gaynes replied, "she'll lead us to him anyway?" Then she added, "Oh, yeah. I forgot. You don't bet."

   Boldt said, "I think he'll park her for a while—an hour, an afternoon, a day. Keep an eye on her himself. Maybe just let her stew. The guy knows us. Knows the way we think. He's been in and out of the system his whole life. His brother's dead. He's wanted and on the run."

   "Pissed off."

   "That too. Depending on that temper of his, he could exercise some patience at this point. There's no real rush, other than staying away from us."

   "You overestimate him," she disagreed. "He's an impatient, wild man. And if we believe Samway, his one purpose at the moment is to take you out for getting his brother killed. That's urgent. That's pressing. Ask Daphne—he's irrational, unpredictable and impatient. That call she just made? He called her in. We've got this skel."

   Samway rode the Broadway bus north for eleven blocks—a cop sitting a few rows behind her—and then disembarked in front of a Seattle's Best Coffee, where she drained the next hour off the clock. Jilly Hu entered the same establishment, wearing a scarf over her head, and read the paper and sipped tea for this same hour, one eye on the suspect, another ready with her cellular phone.

   By the time Samway departed the coffee shop, Shoswitz had unmarked cars in place—ready to continue the game of chess. Boldt and Shoswitz remained in constant contact. The radio hummed with activity. Boldt lived for these moments.

   When an hour had expired, Samway reboarded the 60—the northbound Broadway bus. Jilly Hu remained behind in the coffee shop.

   "You're biting your nails, L.T.," Gaynes said. "You don't normally do that."

   Boldt glared. Her timing was off. He envisioned the movement of the various cars as Shoswitz re-deployed them, fully aware that Flek could be on any street corner, or waiting in a car nearby.

   "You're thinking he's a planner," Gaynes said, reading well his steadied concentration.

   "I am."

   "That he's waiting out there, watching for us."

   "Tracking her," Boldt said, "like a stalker."

   "And if he spots us—"

   "He'll never make contact with her again. It'll be the last we ever see of him." He sensed something from Gaynes. "What?"

   "I have a hunch you're gonna hear from him, L.T. The rest of us, maybe not. But you? He's not through with you."

   "Thanks," Boldt said. "That's reassuring."

   "I call 'em as I see 'em. Which is on account of why I'd like to see us catch him first."

   "Well, at least we're in agreement there."

   Broadway teemed with college kids: restaurants, record stores, grocery stores, moviehouses. On foot it would prove far more difficult to follow her, given the environment. Thankfully, Samway remained onboard the bus at the busiest stops. When she did disembark, it was to transfer from the 60 to the 43—a move that left Shoswitz hustling through bus route schedules. But Gaynes knew the 43, putting their van a jump ahead of the rest of the surveillance teams.