Page 37 of His Ex's Little Sister
“Did the person in the baseball cap look like awoman?”
“No.”
“Drop them. Besides, the stats don’t lie. Less than twenty percent of convicted arsonist arefemale.”
“Maybe women firebugs are just better at not getting convicted,” hegrinsout.
“Focus, kid. Did HR send over the entire employeefiles?”
“Not yet. It’ll be couriered overtomorrow.”
“Make sure they send over photo and staff IDinformation.”
“Willdo.”
I tap on the tabletop. “Wait. What are the names of thethreemen?”
He checks his Blackberry and scrolls through a file while I get us two steaming cups of coffee. “Wendell Morrison, Davison Walters and LarryClaiborne.”
“Ages?”
“Hang on…fifty-four, twenty-seven, and thirty-eight.”
“Drop theoldone.”
He takes a sip of coffee from his mug and stares at me as he does it. “Seriously? You got something against youngpeople?”
“Do you see a fifty-four-year-old kicking up a stink over a shitty lateral transfer or demotion? He’d be so close to retirement that he’s more likely to toe the line, notraisehell.”
“Maybe.”
“Okay. Get their pictures, and when you do, let me know what you think. And be sure to compare them all to the composites Geoff got from the videofeeds.”
“Willdo.”
I tap on the tabletop. “Anythingelse?”
“Just the question of anticipated targets and likelihoods if the arsonist is planning to strikeagain.”
“Goon.”
“There’s a list of potential events, landmarks, and sites,” hetellsme.
“Howmany?”
“Forty-seven.”
“That’s way too many. Sort them by event date, their latest physical security threat-risk assessment results, and by any high-value assets on site. You should be able to get that list down to one or two possible sites per day, if that many. But check the timeframe between each of the prior incidents. Let me know if there’s anypattern.”
“Okay. I candothat.”
“And give me a call during business hours. Save the early morning house calls foremergencies.”
Jared smiles. “There you go, knocking a dude forenthusiasm.”
“Save it. We both know you just came by to seeRobin.”
“Bullshit,” he grins. “Well maybe. So, where’s the pretty little singer who knocked you down a few pegs the othernight?”
