One by One (Роберт Хантер 5 Поодиночке) - Carter Chris (2) (читать книги бесплатно полные версии txt) 📗

The caller was still on the line, and it didn’t look like he was moving anywhere. If he stayed on the phone for just a little while longer, they would probably have a location. But neither Desiree nor Seth showed a lot of excitement with that prospect. They had both worked on the two previous calls from this same perpetrator to Hunter. They had seen how he had expertly bounced the calls all over Los Angeles, laughing at the LAPD. If there was one thing this perpetrator was not it was ‘stupid’. He knew full well that this call, just like the previous two, would be recorded and traced.

One of the two computers on Seth’s desk beeped once, indicating that the triangulation process had come to an end. Seth and Desiree turned to face the monitor, without paying too much attention to the final coordinates. They were simply waiting for the triangulated location to quickly change, as the caller bounced it onto a different spot, in the same way he had done with the first call.

It didn’t happen.

Ten, twenty, thirty seconds passed and the location stayed the same.

‘You’re joking,’ Seth whispered, leaning over his keyboard. Only then he and Desiree checked the coordinates for the originating phone call.

‘Oh my God.’

Seventy-Four

‘Is this for real?’ Captain Blake asked, her disbelieving eyes fixed on the computer monitor on Hunter’s desk.

Less than sixty seconds had elapsed since the digital clock at the bottom left-hand corner of the screen started counting back from ten minutes.

CRUSH: 1011.

STRETCH: 1089.

‘Not even a minute gone, and over two thousand people have voted?’ Captain Blake finally looked at Hunter.

‘He’s probably placed links on several major social network sites again,’ Hunter replied.

‘He has.’ The barely audible comment came from Garcia’s cellphone on Hunter’s desk. Michelle Kelly was still on the line.

Garcia quickly switched the call to loudspeaker mode. ‘Can you repeat that, Michelle?’

‘I said that he has placed links on several major social network sites. A minute gone and the site has received—’ there was a quick pause punctuated by keyboard clicks ‘—nearly four thousand hits, and the ratio is increasing by the second.’

‘That’s just perfect,’ Captain Blake said. ‘Is there anything the FBI Cybercrime Division can do about this?’

‘We’re already doing all we can,’ Michelle came back. ‘But this guy looks to have anticipated every move we could make. Whichever way we turn, we hit a wall.’

‘Are you and Harry recording this?’ Hunter asked.

‘Harry isn’t here,’ Michelle said. ‘But yes, I’m recording every second of it.’

CLOCK: 7:48, 7:47, 7:46 . . .

CRUSH: 3339.

STRETCH: 3351.

Captain Blake’s cellphone vibrated inside her suit jacket pocket. She reached for it and checked the caller display window – the mayor of Los Angeles. She knew exactly what that meant. She declined the call and returned the phone to her pocket. Right now, she had no time for a pointless argument. She would deal with the mayor in her own time.

Garcia took a step back from his desk and nervously rubbed his face before looking down at the floor and away from the screen. Hunter could almost read his thoughts. After what happened yesterday, Garcia’s subconscious mind couldn’t help but to put forward the worst imaginable scenario for him, swapping the man they could see on their screen for his wife, Anna.

Garcia quickly shook his head, trying to banish the thought. He took a moment or two to try to calm the rapid beating of his heart, waiting for the rate to settle slowly. When it did, his eyes returned to the screen.

Captain Blake was also getting fidgety. The helplessness of watching the voting process without being able to move a finger to stop it was polluting the air inside the room like a sarin gas attack.

‘Over ten thousand hits.’ They all heard Michelle say. ‘It’s going viral.’

CLOCK: 6:11, 6:10, 6:09 . . .

CRUSH: 5566.

STRETCH: 5601.

‘This can’t be happening,’ Captain Blake said.

The phone on Hunter’s desk rang again – internal call. He snapped the receiver off its cradle.

‘Detective Hunter, this is Seth Reid from Operations. You’re not going to believe this, but we’ve got a trace on the caller’s location.’

Seth was wrong: right about now, Hunter would believe anything. He placed the call on speaker mode. ‘You’ve got a fixed location for the originating call?’

‘That’s correct. The caller stayed on the line for long enough, and this time he didn’t bounce the call all over the city.’

Hunter and Garcia frowned. This killer would not make that kind of mistake.

‘I’ll be damned,’ Captain Blake said, reaching for the phone on Garcia’s desk, ready to assemble the whole of the LAPD if necessary. ‘So what is the location?’

‘Well, that’s the thing . . .’ Seth said. ‘He’s on West 1st Street, somewhere around number 100.’

‘What?’ Hunter, Garcia and Captain Blake said at the same time, everyone turning to face the speakerphone on Hunter’s desk.

‘This building is number 100 West 1st Street,’ Captain Blake said, putting Garcia’s phone back down. ‘Are you telling me he’s calling from just outside the Police Administration Building?’

‘Yes,’ Seth replied. ‘That’s exactly what I am telling you.’

Seventy-Five

‘Yo, Spinner, come have a look at this.’ Tim called his best friend over while staring wide-eyed at his smartphone screen.

Tim was sixteen years old and Spinner seventeen. They were both students at Glendale High, and, just like they did every day after school, they were practicing their moves in the skate ramps in Verdugo Park.

Spinner kick-flipped his board before performing a 180-spin to face his friend. Tim was taking a break and sitting at the edge of the kidney pool they were riding.

‘Damn, dude, you’re on your phone again?’ he called back, shaking his head. ‘You need to skate more and Tweet less. You know what I’m saying? What is it anyway?’

‘You have to come check it out, bro. This is sick – literally.’

Spinner paused and pulled a face at Jenny, another student from Glendale High who was hanging out in the park with them. She also loved skating, but she had a long way to go to get half as good as Tim and Spinner.

Both Spinner and Jenny kicked their boards up and approached Tim.

‘Is it a new move?’ Spinner asked.

‘Nah, dude.’ Tim shook his head. ‘Remember I told you about that crazy website – pickadeath.com?’

‘The one you said was a film stunt?’ Jenny said.

‘Yeah, but you guys saw the paper a couple of days ago, didn’t you?’ Tim replied. ‘It was no stunt, bro. That shit was real. Some crazy fucker killed that woman live on the net.’

‘Maybe the bitch deserved it,’ Spinner commented.

Jenny punched him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t be a dick, Spinner. That’s a horrible thing to say.’

Spinner shrugged. ‘Just saying.’

‘Anyway,’ Tim waved a hand, cutting them short. ‘I just got a Tweet from Mel. The site is back online, bro. Check this shit out.’ Tim showed them his smartphone.

Spinner and Jenny both frowned at the screen at the same time.

‘Damn, is this shit for real?’ Spinner asked, his eyes glistening.

‘Like I said,’ Tim replied. ‘Last time it was very real. So I think – yeah, bro, this shit is happening. Some dude is gonna die.’