as Jack’s BlackBerry beeped in his ear, the signal that the battery was running down.
“What?” he said. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“It’s awful,” she said. “He opened his eyes but he’s just staring. It’s like he’s not even there.”
“Oh God,” said Jack. “I don’t know. It’s early days yet. He might come around yet. Jesus. I’ll come see him after I go talk to the police.”
“You can’t get in to see him today,” said Sophie. “Only family can get in until he’s out of critical condition.”
“Oh, Jesus,” said Jack.
“What happened?” said Sophie. “Why didn’t he come home last night?”
“I’m just on my way to the police station now,” he said. “I don’t know what happened. We were out till late, Christ, till Pigale closed. Then we took a cab. I think he dropped me off first. But it’s hard to remember. Christ. We were shitfaced.”
Sophie started crying. “I’d better go back in there,” she sniffled, and she hung up.
“Lord Jesus,” said Jack. He cursed at the horror of the situation, and at his phone, which was running down. At the next light, he remembered that he had another one in his pocket.
“Fuck,” he said, and pulled over and dug it out, thinking he could use the battery from Sawatski’s BlackBerry. He had a vague memory, suddenly, of Ed slipping it into his pocket when he went for the lap dance.
Jack punched at it, tried to look at the inbox, but it was password-protected.
He tried SOPHIE, but that didn’t work.
He lit a smoke and thought about it, then opened the back of the phone, took out the battery and popped it into the back of his own.
The first time the cell phone that Balfour was tracking sent out a signal, it bounced off seven towers in downtown Ottawa. After about thirty seconds, the tracking program he was staring at lit up over Ottawa on a map of North America. He hit zoom and waited while the map redrew itself. The second signal came in while the map was redrawing, and Balfour’s computer crunched it and came up with a fifty-square-metre signal zone, centred at the corner of Lisgar and O’Connor.
“Bingo,” said Balfour. “Bingo, bingo, bingo. Take that, mofo.”
He whipped out his BlackBerry and typed a message.
To: 74X93B4
From: 58K42E6
Subject: BB location
The BlackBerry in question is at the corner of O’Connor and Lisgar.
As he pressed send, Sawatski’s BlackBerry sent another roaming signal, and when Balfour looked again, the signal zone had moved south, to the corner of Gladstone and O’Connor.
He sent another message.
To: 74X93B4
From: 58K42E6
Subject: It’s moving
Now at Gladstone and O’Connor.
He quickly had a reply.
To: 58K42E6
From: 74X93B4
Subject: Can you set up remote tracking?
We need to follow it.
Balfour pulled on his bottom lip and thought about it. Shouldn’t be too hard. Just go under the interface, find the code with the latitude and longitude, set up a little mailer program to forward it. He’d have to write a bit of code for the recipient phone, but that should be easy, an add-on for a mapping program. But just as he started to type a message saying that he could do it, the dot disappeared from Balfour’s screen.
Flanagan had started a timeline on the Sawatski case, and when Ashton forwarded him the messages from Sophie, he added them to the document.
Approx 6 p.m.: Subject meets Sophie Fortin and Jack Macdonald at Darcy McGee’s. They eat. Subject drinks three or four beers.
Approx 8 p.m.: Fortin leaves D’Arcy’s.
10:15 p.m.:
De: Sophie Fortin
A: Ed Sawatski
Sujet: Come home
I’m finished work and I’m bored.
10:28 p.m.:
To: Sophie Fortin
From: Ed Sawatski
Subject: No way
Me and Jack are macking on Eskimo hotties.
10:32 p.m.:
De: Sophie Fortin
A: Ed Sawatski
Sujet: Enjoy them
Just have a shower before you come to bed. :-p
11:45 p.m.:
De: Sophie Fortin
A: Ed Sawatski
Sujet: Going to bed
I hope you got lucky with the Inuit
“What?” he said. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“It’s awful,” she said. “He opened his eyes but he’s just staring. It’s like he’s not even there.”
“Oh God,” said Jack. “I don’t know. It’s early days yet. He might come around yet. Jesus. I’ll come see him after I go talk to the police.”
“You can’t get in to see him today,” said Sophie. “Only family can get in until he’s out of critical condition.”
“Oh, Jesus,” said Jack.
“What happened?” said Sophie. “Why didn’t he come home last night?”
“I’m just on my way to the police station now,” he said. “I don’t know what happened. We were out till late, Christ, till Pigale closed. Then we took a cab. I think he dropped me off first. But it’s hard to remember. Christ. We were shitfaced.”
Sophie started crying. “I’d better go back in there,” she sniffled, and she hung up.
“Lord Jesus,” said Jack. He cursed at the horror of the situation, and at his phone, which was running down. At the next light, he remembered that he had another one in his pocket.
“Fuck,” he said, and pulled over and dug it out, thinking he could use the battery from Sawatski’s BlackBerry. He had a vague memory, suddenly, of Ed slipping it into his pocket when he went for the lap dance.
Jack punched at it, tried to look at the inbox, but it was password-protected.
He tried SOPHIE, but that didn’t work.
He lit a smoke and thought about it, then opened the back of the phone, took out the battery and popped it into the back of his own.
The first time the cell phone that Balfour was tracking sent out a signal, it bounced off seven towers in downtown Ottawa. After about thirty seconds, the tracking program he was staring at lit up over Ottawa on a map of North America. He hit zoom and waited while the map redrew itself. The second signal came in while the map was redrawing, and Balfour’s computer crunched it and came up with a fifty-square-metre signal zone, centred at the corner of Lisgar and O’Connor.
“Bingo,” said Balfour. “Bingo, bingo, bingo. Take that, mofo.”
He whipped out his BlackBerry and typed a message.
To: 74X93B4
From: 58K42E6
Subject: BB location
The BlackBerry in question is at the corner of O’Connor and Lisgar.
As he pressed send, Sawatski’s BlackBerry sent another roaming signal, and when Balfour looked again, the signal zone had moved south, to the corner of Gladstone and O’Connor.
He sent another message.
To: 74X93B4
From: 58K42E6
Subject: It’s moving
Now at Gladstone and O’Connor.
He quickly had a reply.
To: 58K42E6
From: 74X93B4
Subject: Can you set up remote tracking?
We need to follow it.
Balfour pulled on his bottom lip and thought about it. Shouldn’t be too hard. Just go under the interface, find the code with the latitude and longitude, set up a little mailer program to forward it. He’d have to write a bit of code for the recipient phone, but that should be easy, an add-on for a mapping program. But just as he started to type a message saying that he could do it, the dot disappeared from Balfour’s screen.
Flanagan had started a timeline on the Sawatski case, and when Ashton forwarded him the messages from Sophie, he added them to the document.
Approx 6 p.m.: Subject meets Sophie Fortin and Jack Macdonald at Darcy McGee’s. They eat. Subject drinks three or four beers.
Approx 8 p.m.: Fortin leaves D’Arcy’s.
10:15 p.m.:
De: Sophie Fortin
A: Ed Sawatski
Sujet: Come home
I’m finished work and I’m bored.
10:28 p.m.:
To: Sophie Fortin
From: Ed Sawatski
Subject: No way
Me and Jack are macking on Eskimo hotties.
10:32 p.m.:
De: Sophie Fortin
A: Ed Sawatski
Sujet: Enjoy them
Just have a shower before you come to bed. :-p
11:45 p.m.:
De: Sophie Fortin
A: Ed Sawatski
Sujet: Going to bed
I hope you got lucky with the Inuit
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