The Missing Page 0,75

one of the twelve Aston Martin Lagondas imported into the United States.

Darby hunted through the sheets of tiny print for recent owners while Banville talked on one of the secured phones inside the surveillance van. More than four hours had passed since the feds had taken over the investigation. During that time, he had assembled a small group of detectives he could trust to handle the investigation discreetly.

Out of the twelve Lagondas, only eight were still active. The other four had been junked. Darby was in the process of compiling her notes when Banville hung up.

‘Rachel Swanson died of an air embolism,’ he said. ‘Someone pumped air through her IV line. The feds confiscated it along with the security tapes for ICU.’

‘Wonderful,’ Darby said. The feds were certainly covering their tracks.

‘We interviewed the ICU nurses, but nobody remembers anything but the news of the bomb. That’s why Traveler bombed the hospital, didn’t he? Create all that confusion and fear and the son of a bitch slipped right in.’

‘It was just like 9/11. Everyone is running around, trying to find an exit. Nobody is paying attention to anyone.’

‘Pretty slick.’ Banville rubbed his chin. ‘I’m still trying to figure out why he just didn’t pack up and leave.’

‘Ego, maybe. None of his victims had ever escaped. Or maybe he was afraid Rachel knew too much and he didn’t want to take the risk of her talking to us. Let me show you what I have on the car.’

Darby picked up the sheets where eight names were highlighted. ‘The closest states with recent Lagonda owners are Connecticut, Pennsylvania and New York.’

‘Wasn’t one of Traveler’s victims from Connecticut?’

Darby nodded. ‘Take a look at this name.’

‘Thomas Preston, from New Caanan, Connecticut,’ Banville said. ‘Owned the vehicle for two years, then sold it a little over two months ago. That Lagonda hasn’t been registered yet.’

‘Traveler could be the guy who bought the car. Let’s look into Preston first, see how long he’s lived in Connecticut, and if he owns a van.’

Banville reached across the console and grabbed the wall phone.

‘Steve, it’s Mat. Take a look at page fifteen. About halfway down the page, you’ll see the name Thomas Preston from New Caanan, Connecticut. Find out everything you can about him. I need to know if he owns a van.’

Twenty minutes later, the phone rang. Banville listened for a moment, then covered the receiver with his hand. ‘Preston doesn’t have a record. He’s fifty-nine, a lawyer, divorced and has lived in his house for the past twenty years. He’s never owned a van.’

Scratch Preston.

‘We need to find out who Preston sold the car to,’ Darby said. ‘We need to find his name. Ask your man to get Preston’s home number – get all of his numbers, business, cell phones, everything. And get the name of his insurance agency.’

Banville relayed the information and hung up. ‘If the buyer is Traveler, and he gave Preston a phony name, there’s no way we can track him.’

‘Let’s keep our fingers crossed. We’re overdue for some luck.’

‘Why did you want the name of his insurance agency?’

‘The safest way to play it is to call and pretend to be someone from his insurance company. The guy’s an attorney. You know how these guys act when you try to ask them questions about a criminal case. He’ll bury us in legal bullshit and paperwork. It will be a week until he gives us an answer. But if we call and say we’re from his insurance agency, he’ll give us the info.’

‘I agree.’

Banville’s contact called back ten minutes later.

‘Do you mind if I make the phone call?’ Darby didn’t want Banville’s rough manner to turn away Preston.

Banville handed her the phone.

Darby tried the office number first. The secretary said Mr Preston was on another line. Darby had to wait through several minutes of soft elevator music.

‘Tom Preston.’

‘Mr Preston, I’m calling from Sheer Insurance in regards to your Aston Martin Lagonda.’

‘I sold it about two months ago.’

‘Did you turn in the plates?’

‘Of course I did.’

‘According to our records, the DMV says you didn’t.’

Preston went on the defensive. ‘I turned in the plates. If there’s a problem, take it up with the DMV.’

‘Clearly some mistake has been made. Did you make a copy of the title?’

‘I sure as hell did. I made copies of everything. Goddamn registry, if I ran my practice like they did, I’d be disbarred.’

‘I understand your frustration. Tell you what: Give me the name and address of the person you transferred the title