Part 27 (1/2)

BANDS OF SHADOWS cast by the scaffoldlike North Steel Bridge swept across the winds.h.i.+eld as Bohannon and Suter crossed the Willamette River heading northeast, returning from an unsuccessful attempt to interview a pa.s.senger in Portland's trendy Pearl District. Suter craned his neck up at the two towers looming over the bridge.

”The middle of this bridge, the part between the towers, is designed to be raised to allow tall vessels on the river to pa.s.s through,” Bohannon said. ”It's also a double-decker. Cars and the MAX light rail cross on this level, and Amtrak, bicycles and pedestrians use the lower deck.”

Suter didn't respond to the chitchat.

Bohannon switched tactics. ”Do we have a copy of the pa.s.senger list with their seat a.s.signments?”

”I'm sure Pirelli has one. Why do we need it?” Suter continued to look out the pa.s.senger window.

”We are wasting our time talking to anyone who sat in the front two-thirds of the plane. Whatever brought it down happened in the back. We should talk to those people first, then if necessary talk to the others later.”

”Couldn't hurt,” Suter said. ”Let's stop by the hangar and get the list, then we can prioritize. Although I think we both know the pa.s.sengers we should be talking to are Mara Lantern and that Chinese guy. That's where this thing is going to get resolved.”

”Yeah, but it would be nice to have another pa.s.senger who saw them do something on the plane. Until we get that, we can't prove anything.”

”Oh, it's no a.s.sumption they broke into the hangar, and it's no a.s.sumption that the only body we don't have is Mara Lantern's. They are our suspects all right.”

”But what exactly are they suspected of doing?”

”That's what I'm going to find out.”

The black Caprice spun its wheels when Bohannon put it in Reverse to pull back out of the gravel parking lot next to the hangar. Two semitrucks with black cabs and yellow trailers idled next to each other in the lot, blocking all the parking s.p.a.ces. The detective maneuvered the car onto the shoulder of the street and cut the engine. He reached into the backseat for his suit coat and stepped out of the car. Several more large trucks could be heard rumbling and maneuvering around the corner on the broad side of the building.

Bohannon slipped on his suit jacket and looked across the top of the car at Suter. ”What's going on? Looks like they are packing up and leaving.”

”Don't know. There's Pirelli. Let's ask him,” Suter said.

The investigators walked across a gra.s.s island that divided the parking lot from the street, crossed behind the large trucks and stepped up onto the small stoop on which the NTSB chief stood. Suter stomped his feet to get the gra.s.s and dust off his s.h.i.+ny black Rockport shoes.

”What we got going on, George?” Suter asked.

”Just moving out some equipment we don't need. Lots of logistics but not a big deal,” he said. He opened the door for them.

Inside the reconstructed airplane sat where it had been since its recovery. Daylight from open bay doors on the far side of the hangar backlit the wreck. Forklifts and men moved busily behind it.

Bohannon bent sideways to get a view of what was going on. ”Hey, what happened to the morgue? Where are the bodies?” He looked at Pirelli.

”What are you talking about?” Pirelli asked, deadpan.

”The morgue, the plastic tents, with a hundred-some-odd dead pa.s.sengers in them. Where are the bodies?” Bohannon looked at Suter.

”You must be mistaken,” Pirelli said. He turned and walked away.

Suter shrugged and pointed to the small conference room.

Bohannon took off his jacket and folded it over his arm before squeezing into a seat on the far side of the tiny room. He slid the jacket into his lap, then placed his palms down on the round table as if he expected an earthquake to begin at any moment. ”So what's going on? Why would they move the bodies?” he asked Suter.

”I have no idea. They didn't consult me. After the break-in last week, they might have decided to move them to a more secure facility.”

”You don't really believe that, do you?”

He shut the door and sat down. ”Probably not. If I had to guess, I would say the bodies were carted off and cremated. I bet the rest of the equipment went back to where it came from, an army depot in Utah. To be honest, I don't care. We don't need the bodies to continue the investigation.”

”The investigation? You call this an investigation? It's more like a cover-up.”

”That's enough. Calm down.” The sweating and twitching started up.

Bohannon grimaced when sweat dripping from Suter's chin spattered the table.

”You were warned not everything would be shared with you. You also signed that security agreement. Dead bodies and plastics tents aren't the only things these people can make disappear. Keep it up, and you'll be sitting in a federal prison cell somewhere without so much as a good-bye phone call to your mother.”

”What is the point of an investigation if the evidence can be trucked off and destroyed? What happens if we actually catch the people responsible for this? We'll never be able to convict someone without evidence.”

”We are not conducting a criminal investigation. We are simply trying to find out what caused that airplane to fall out of the sky. Once we do that, let the powers that be figure out what to do.” He rubbed his neck, twitched a little less. ”I would strongly recommend you don't bring up the morgue again, unless Pirelli brings it up first.”

Bohannon's phone vibrated in his s.h.i.+rt pocket. He pulled it out to see Lt. Mike Simmons's name displayed on its screen.

”Lieutenant.”

”Hey, Bo. We are getting reports that pa.s.sengers from your flight are disappearing.”

”What do you mean? Taking off without telling someone? Kidnapped? What?”

”We're not sure. Might be a little of everything. Might be a lot of nothing. We even got one missing person's report where a man said his wife was sitting at her vanity in their bedroom, and she exploded.”

”She exploded what?”

”He says she exploded, like a firecracker. There are definite signs of some kind of blast in their bedroom, but there are no remains of the wife.”

”What's this got to do with Flight 559?”

”She was a pa.s.senger on the flight. Like I said, we've got a handful of reports that some of the pa.s.sengers are missing. You guys working on anything that might explain that? I know it's a long shot, but it is kinda strange that they all were on that flight.”

”Just a sec. Let me talk to my partner.”

Bohannon hit the Hold b.u.t.ton and conveyed what his lieutenant had said.

”Tell him that we'll take them,” Suter said.

”What? You want to take a bunch of missing person cases? You just said we weren't conducting a criminal investigation.”

”Do it, or I will. They are already a part of our investigation. Why have another set of cops working it?”

Bohannon tapped his phone. ”Lieutenant? We will follow up on the reports. Can you email them over to us?... Yeah, I'll file updates on what we find out.... Yeah, I'll let you know.” He hung up and looked at Suter. ”We now have six missing-person cases.”

CHAPTER 42.