Measure of Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page B

Single White Geek in eval shorthand. Professor Keener’s biweekly deduction for the university medical is for a single plan, and there are no births registered naming him as a father in any databases. From what I can tell this kid is so missing he doesn’t exist.”
    â€œSounds like your shoe leather might be useful after all, Jack,” Naomi suggests. “Who were his parents, how did they die, what was his experience in foster care? Maybe somebody from his past would know about personal things, like having a child out of wedlock.”
    â€œI’ll get on it,” he says, making an entry in his notebook.
    â€œLet’s move on to Randall Shane,” Naomi suggests.
    The photo of the victim is replaced by a recent snapshot of Randall Shane, seen from the waist up and looking very purposeful and muscular. Teddy says, “This was posted on the Facebook page of a woman whose daughter was recovered by Mr. Shane, and who was effusive in her praise. He’s camera-shy and asked her to take it down, which she did, but it wasn’t deleted from the cache.”
    We learn that Shane, 46, graduated from a public high school in East Hampstead, Long Island, and eventually from Rochester Institute of Technology in Rochester,New York, with a degree in computer science. While at Rochester he met the woman he would eventually marry. Recruited as a civilian software engineer by the FBI to help modernize their fingerprint database, he’d eventually applied to and been accepted as a special agent, in which capacity he continued until the deaths of his wife and daughter, after which he resigned from the FBI.
    â€œThat’s the standard bio on the guy,” Teddy says. “There’s more, of course.”
    â€œHold on, cowboy,” Dane says. “Are you telling us that bad boy is a computer geek? With those guns?”
    â€œGuns?” Naomi asks, puzzled. “He was unarmed.”
    â€œMuscles, silly.” Dane poses, cocking her right arm. “Biceps.”
    â€œAh,” says Naomi, satisfied. “Continue.”
    Teddy is new enough to the team to still be made uneasy by the frequent, challenging interruptions, encouraged by boss lady, who believes that banter and peer pressure create what she calls “free thought radicals.” The back-and-forth is all part of her method, which can be difficult for a person as naturally shy as Teddy. He swallows hard, takes a deep breath, finds his place. “In those days Shane was kind of a geek at heart, if not in appearance. That’s how the FBI used him, too. He spent about half his career testifying or lecturing on methods of forensic identification, not out in the field. He was basically an expert with a cool badge. They still use his program for the fingerprint database.”
    Naomi interrupts, as is her wont: “Jack? Does that accord with your personal knowledge?”
    â€œYep,” says Jack, adjusting the crease of his slacks. “The kid has it right.”
    Naomi’s attention returns to Teddy. “Continue.”
    He takes a breath, nods. “So everything changes onerainy Sunday night in New Jersey. Shane and his wife and kid are driving back from D.C. to New York. Mr. Shane at this time works out of the FBI field office in Manhattan.”
    â€œThey’re in Washington why?”
    â€œUm, school project for the daughter. Visiting the Smithsonian.”
    â€œKeep going.”
    â€œJersey Turnpike. Shane’s feeling sleepy, so his wife takes over the driving. He nods off, and at some point the vehicle is sideswiped by a freight truck. When he wakes up in the wreckage, wife and daughter are both dead. As you might expect, the man himself was a wreck for a while. He resigns from the Bureau and eventually establishes himself as a legendary finder of lost children, but he retains a number of key contacts who still work for the FBI, including the current Assistant Director of