Into the Night: Inspector Rykel Book 2 (Amsterdam Quartet) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Jake Woodhouse
later; right now I need you to concentrate on this.’ He waved a hand towards the room they’d just stepped out of.
‘The thing is, I’m supposed to be on leave, and—’
Smit’s phone started ringing. He looked at the screen and held it up to Tanya.
The contact’s name was the chief crime reporter on
De Telegraaf.
‘Want a bet, headless lunatic or killer policeman?’ said Smit before he answered and strode off down the corridor.
Great
, she thought.
Handled that well.
She opened the door and stepped back into the room.
‘Anyone here able to track calls made over the Internet?’ she called out.
A young guy wearing some kind of heavy metal T-shirt leaned back in his chair, waved his hand. The skull leered at Tanya.
‘Depends,’ he said.
‘On what?’
‘Oh, a whole load of stuff. Like, for instance, did they go through a proxy server first? Were they routing round some other—’
‘Tell you what,’ said Tanya pulling out her phone. ‘Call this number and speak to the phone company. And this is top priority now.’
She gave him the number and left the room, noticing the time on the wall clock as she did. Coming up for twenty-five past.
I’ve got to get away
, she thought.
I can’t get sucked into this.
Now that she knew her foster father’s new name wasStaal, she didn’t want to waste any time before confronting him. She’d held it back for years, and now that she’d made the decision to do it, she couldn’t wait any longer.
It felt like a fire in her chest. And there was only one way to douse it.
She made her way up two floors to where Smit’s office was, hoping he’d managed to get rid of the journalist.
The police tried to be as open as possible, which meant that although press contacts were usually handled by press officers, for big stuff the station chiefs had to show their faces and assure the journalists that they were doing everything in their power, and all the other clichés which got trotted out at such times.
She knocked on his door but got no answer. Listening for a moment, she was sure he wasn’t there and turned to go. Someone called her name from the end of the corridor, and she turned to see the tech with the skull T-shirt.
‘Yeah?’
‘I’ve got something, but you’re not going to like it.’
If it keeps me here any longer then I’m sure I’m not going to like it
, she thought as she followed him back down to the basement.
At his computer he flopped into the chair and pointed at the screen.
‘You want the simple version?’
Tanya was torn between telling him that just because she was a woman didn’t mean she didn’t understand computers, and her hatred of techie-speak.
‘Simple’s good.’
‘Whoever placed the calls over the Internet wasn’t very careful about hiding what they were doing. In fact theyprobably just assumed that what they were doing wasn’t traceable.’
‘So you’ve got them?’
‘Not quite, but I’ve got their IP address, and when I run it …’ He pointed to a number on the screen.
‘What?’
He pushed back in his chair and turned to look at her. A stud earring caught the light. A phone was ringing off to her right; no one was picking it up. She suddenly felt sick.
‘It traces back to here,’ he said lowering his voice, glancing around. ‘Someone made all those calls right from this building.’
6
Saturday, 8 May
15.37
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ said Smit once Kees had finished.
It was all going to shit.
He’d had no choice but to call it in, but not before he’d cleaned the place up and got rid of every trace of white powder he could find. Every speck of dust had made him paranoid, and every surface now glinted like new.
He was standing in the flat, phone jammed up against his ear, moving it away when Smit had started shouting.
His hands felt weird, painful, but he was getting used to that. Or if he wasn’t yet, then he was going to have to real quick.
‘Like I said, I turned my back, and he
‘The thing is, I’m supposed to be on leave, and—’
Smit’s phone started ringing. He looked at the screen and held it up to Tanya.
The contact’s name was the chief crime reporter on
De Telegraaf.
‘Want a bet, headless lunatic or killer policeman?’ said Smit before he answered and strode off down the corridor.
Great
, she thought.
Handled that well.
She opened the door and stepped back into the room.
‘Anyone here able to track calls made over the Internet?’ she called out.
A young guy wearing some kind of heavy metal T-shirt leaned back in his chair, waved his hand. The skull leered at Tanya.
‘Depends,’ he said.
‘On what?’
‘Oh, a whole load of stuff. Like, for instance, did they go through a proxy server first? Were they routing round some other—’
‘Tell you what,’ said Tanya pulling out her phone. ‘Call this number and speak to the phone company. And this is top priority now.’
She gave him the number and left the room, noticing the time on the wall clock as she did. Coming up for twenty-five past.
I’ve got to get away
, she thought.
I can’t get sucked into this.
Now that she knew her foster father’s new name wasStaal, she didn’t want to waste any time before confronting him. She’d held it back for years, and now that she’d made the decision to do it, she couldn’t wait any longer.
It felt like a fire in her chest. And there was only one way to douse it.
She made her way up two floors to where Smit’s office was, hoping he’d managed to get rid of the journalist.
The police tried to be as open as possible, which meant that although press contacts were usually handled by press officers, for big stuff the station chiefs had to show their faces and assure the journalists that they were doing everything in their power, and all the other clichés which got trotted out at such times.
She knocked on his door but got no answer. Listening for a moment, she was sure he wasn’t there and turned to go. Someone called her name from the end of the corridor, and she turned to see the tech with the skull T-shirt.
‘Yeah?’
‘I’ve got something, but you’re not going to like it.’
If it keeps me here any longer then I’m sure I’m not going to like it
, she thought as she followed him back down to the basement.
At his computer he flopped into the chair and pointed at the screen.
‘You want the simple version?’
Tanya was torn between telling him that just because she was a woman didn’t mean she didn’t understand computers, and her hatred of techie-speak.
‘Simple’s good.’
‘Whoever placed the calls over the Internet wasn’t very careful about hiding what they were doing. In fact theyprobably just assumed that what they were doing wasn’t traceable.’
‘So you’ve got them?’
‘Not quite, but I’ve got their IP address, and when I run it …’ He pointed to a number on the screen.
‘What?’
He pushed back in his chair and turned to look at her. A stud earring caught the light. A phone was ringing off to her right; no one was picking it up. She suddenly felt sick.
‘It traces back to here,’ he said lowering his voice, glancing around. ‘Someone made all those calls right from this building.’
6
Saturday, 8 May
15.37
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ said Smit once Kees had finished.
It was all going to shit.
He’d had no choice but to call it in, but not before he’d cleaned the place up and got rid of every trace of white powder he could find. Every speck of dust had made him paranoid, and every surface now glinted like new.
He was standing in the flat, phone jammed up against his ear, moving it away when Smit had started shouting.
His hands felt weird, painful, but he was getting used to that. Or if he wasn’t yet, then he was going to have to real quick.
‘Like I said, I turned my back, and he