CHAPTER
43
Maggie shouldered her way through the crowded hallway. The entire floor of conference rooms at the hotel had become a makeshift command center. She passed one door she recognized as the triage room and another where victims reunited with families. Room 119 was at the end of the hall.
She had changed into blue jeans, a turtleneck sweater and leather flats. Her Smith & Wesson stayed back inside her room's safe, along with her badge. All she carried was her smartphone, her ID, a credit card, room key card and a twenty-dollar bill she'd slid into her jeans pocket.
Nick and Jerry Yarden waited outside the door, both smiling at her. She could tell they'd seen the chase scene by now. So had the others. It was obvious as soon as she walked into the room. Heads turned and nodded. Eyes glanced then stayed and stared.
It was a small group. Maybe a dozen. Police chief Daryl Merrick's group was in another room. Merrick had won jurisdiction and ended up lead on the case. He had his hands full recovering bodies and rescuing injured, setting up information centers for victims and families, not to mention juggling a media nightmare. However, it'd be up to the federal agencies?Homeland Security and the FBI?to conduct the investigation, issue warrants and track down the killers. That was this group, gathered in Room 119. Most of its members were still at the scene, sifting through debris and interviewing witnesses. They would still be cataloguing evidence and piecing together theories in the days, even weeks after tonight.
Charlie Wurth was back from the press conference and at the front of the room, setting up a huge dry-erase board. Alongside him a CSI tech plugged in a computer and arranged a projection screen. Nick introduced Maggie to David Ceimo and a bomb expert, named Jamie, while Yarden made his way to the front of the room to hand off a jump drive containing the grainy, blurred images?the best shots they'd found?of the five suspects. Maggie listened to Nick and David Ceimo explain their connection while she watched Yarden with Charlie Wurth. There appeared to be some discussion, then Wurth was pointing to the computer. It looked like he wanted Yarden to stay and help run the show.
"Okay, people," A.D. Kunze said as he made his entrance into the room, pulling the door closed and letting it slam shut behind him. "I know everybody's tired. Let's get to this."
Wurth nodded at Yarden and handed him a wireless remote.
"Go ahead," Wurth told him.
Yarden was a bit hesitant. Maggie could tell he was nervous. The tips of his ears had begun to turn crimson. He was a master at the computer panel but it was different in a dark room with only monitors. Here in front of a group of law enforcement officers it would be a bit out of Yarden's realm.
Yarden glanced down before cueing up the photos on the projection screen. On the computer monitor Maggie could see there were rows of photos, about five photos in each row. The images, now jpegs, would have been downloaded from digital cameras used to record the scene. They were joined by the images Yarden had brought from the surveillance videos.
Yarden pushed a few buttons on the computer keyboard then pointed the wireless remote and clicked. A crime scene photo of one of the craters came onto the projection screen. He clicked again and another image came up alongside. On closer inspection, Maggie could see the smaller image was one of the shots of the same area from a surveillance camera before the explosion.
"We initially believed there were three bombers," Yarden started to explain. "Then we discovered the site of one of the bombs was the women's restroom." He clicked the remote and the "before" shot was replaced by one with a zoomed-in image of the sign.
Yarden waited a few minutes then he cued up three more shots: the grainy images of four men and one young woman. Even on the projection screen Maggie was struck by how indecipherable the images were. They would never be able to identify them.
"What's your assessment, Agent O'Dell?" A.D. Kunze boomed from his perch against the back wall. "You must have a profile established. After all, you were able to determine that young man in the parking lot was not one of the five."
There was silence. These were trained investigators. They knew this was an unfair call-out even if Kunze hadn't used a condescending tone.
"At least one of them may have been a college student," Maggie said. "We were able to make out logos on a ball cap and letterman jacket." She saw Yarden cueing up those close-ups even as she spoke. "All five are Caucasian, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-six. None are wearing anything controversial. Other than the ball cap and letterman jacket there's nothing to indicate by the way that they're dressed that they belong to a specific organization or gang. There's no visible piercings or tattoos. I know there was some expectation to connect these individuals to a group like CAP, but I see no evidence of that from the videos."
"That's Citizens for American Pride," Wurth added. "There were some warnings about an event called into Senator Foster's office." Then he pointed to the photos and he said, "We had three bombs, you have five suspects."
"Right," Maggie continued. "It appears that two of the people came into the mall with one of the bombers. Because one of those backpacks ended up in the women's restroom, we suspect the young woman was involved. And possibly the other young man. I might add that none of the five suspects appear to be overly anxious or nervous. And certainly didn't act like homicide bombers."
"Which follows my theory," Jamie, the bomb expert joined in. "There's preliminary evidence that all three bombs were detonated by remote control. I'm speculating that none of these individuals knew they were carrying explosives. Or if they did, they didn't believe they would be detonated while they were carrying them, otherwise, there's no reason for an off-site remote. Also just from the fragments I can already determine the devices were constructed by someone who knew what he was doing. A professional. Definitely someone who was trained in the use and handling of explosives."
"But in the case you told us about earlier," Nick said, "you mentioned this detonator had some similarities to a guy who drew up a blueprint for a dirty bomb. If I'm remembering correctly, didn't you say he claimed he did it for a class project? Wasn't he a student?"
"I remember the detonator," Jamie told him. "I'm sorry, I don't remember other details." She glanced around and noticed that wasn't good enough. "I can get details."
Wurth nodded, satisfied.
Kunze didn't look satisfied. "What about groups like CAP?" he asked, looking to Maggie again. "We certainly can't dismiss their involvement simply because none of these kids were wearing AMERICAN PRIDE T-shirts."
"Agreed," Maggie told him. "I did some checking. The ball cap and letterman jacket are from the University of Minnesota here in the twin cities. Citizens for American Pride held two rallies on campus within the last year, the most recent, last month. However, the university hosts a variety of similar events and forums."
"So it's possible these kids were members?" Kunze wanted to know.
"As I said earlier, there's no evidence that points to that, but yes," Maggie conceded, "it's possible."
Kunze seemed satisfied. He left before the meeting was adjourned. Maggie couldn't help but wonder why he was so determined to pin the bombings on this particular group. From her brief research before coming down to the meeting, she couldn't find a single incident of violence or criminal behavior attributed to the group. Sure, they had made some outrageous statements but even the so-called warnings or threats that Senator Foster's office had received were mild. They also hadn't taken credit for the attack which was odd.
Wurth and Yarden went over more crime scene photos. They created a list of information, evidence and leads. When they were finished David Ceimo offered to take them out for burgers and beer. Maggie realized, as she often did, that only law enforcement officials would think of food after a meeting like this.