“Speaking of the Ward, do we think it’s just a coincidence that Alkaline’s old Lieutenant Mike Spencer died in a bomb blast the same day his buddy busted out?” Kowalski asks.
“Hell no,” I say. “He probably helped him plan this. Where did you guys get on that?”
“Not far. We have an eyewitness saying she saw a man in black flying away just seconds before the blast, but she was as high as a kite, so who the hell knows?” Mirabelle answers.
“Man in black flying away? Any theories on who he might be?” Cam asks.
“Not as yet, but I’m pretty sure this investigation will be melded with that one,” Mirabelle says.
“So what else do we know?” Cam asks.
“He’s obsessed with Justice,” Kowalski says.
“Something a little less obvious,” I say.
“He should be warned,” Kowalski says.
“He knows, I’m sure,” I say.
“It tells us he’ll probably stay in the city,” Cam says. “But just in case, we should notify buses, trains, airports to be on the lookout. Give them all his past aliases.”
Harry reappears from inside the stairwell and starts walking down to us. “Here comes Harry,” I say. We wait for him before continuing.
He pushes his glasses back up his nose. “That was the mayor and commissioner. They are officially ordering a task force. By midnight there should be about twenty officers on this, anyone who worked on any Ryder-related case just to start. Every officer in the city is at our disposal. Cam, you’re taking point on this under me.”
“Too bad Stackhouse ate his gun,” Mirabelle says. “He helped find this guy last time.”
“We have his notes and case files,” Harry says. “We’ll start pulling all files, trial transcripts, everything we have on this guy. Stuff from in here too.”
“They’re already on it,” Cam says. “We’ll get full cooperation.”
“We should also pull in all known accomplices,” Kowalski says.
“And interview anyone who had contact with him in here,” I add. “I’m talking guards, inmates, if they washed his sheets we need to grill them. Hard. This was an inside job if ever I saw one.”
“We should also reach out to all our CIs,” Cam says.
“Agreed. Now, walk us through the night, Jo,” Harry says.
“Okay. First, they tranq these guys within an inch of their lives, and if I remember correctly, during sentencing, they also ordered that he be given some cocktail Justice developed to reduce the pH level in his body. He had to be off both to do this. Either someone stopped giving them to him, or he was slipped more drugs to counteract them.”
“We’ll start with the doctors here,” Mirabelle says.
“Second. How’d he get out of his cell? There are no acid marks on the door, so someone had to open it for him. Either intentionally or Ryder faked a medical emergency.”
“The injured guard, Dodd, should shed some light on this when he wakes up,” Cam says.
“And third, we’re assuming he had outside help on this. Someone picked him up outside the prison, and the death of Mike Spencer is too coincidental. I’d bet money we’ll find another set of tire tracks where he ditched the car. Someone picked him up, which means he had contact with the outside world.”
“So?” Mirabelle asks. “Mail. E-mail.”
“No, after he sent harassing letters to Grace Pickering and other witnesses, they cut off his mail privileges,” Cam says. “He can get mail, but he can’t send anything out. And since they have Virus here, who can import himself into a modem, they got rid of the internet.”
“We’ll get the visitor logs and copies of all letters he received,” Harry says.
“It’ll be a lot,” I say. “Alkaline was popular with the villain groupies. At the trial they practically had to sweep all the underwear thrown at him. I think there’s even thousands of fan fiction stories about him and websites.”
“We’ll still go through them, interview the more dedicated groupies,” Cam says.
“What about tonight?” Mirabelle asks.
“I doubt he’ll try anything tonight,” I say. “If I had to guess, we have at least a day or two before he makes his presence known. He’s a planner; he’ll need time to set up whatever he’s got up his sleeve.”
“We’re against the clock people,” Harry says. “Because whatever he has in mind, it’s going to be big. There isn’t a single person safe in this city tonight.”
“Then let’s be big damn heroes,” I say, grinning cheek to cheek.