“We got to talking and I mentioned I had a case involving a girl with a deformed ear. I didn’t give him all the details or anything. He just told me to e-mail him the picture and while you were taking care of business just now, I got a response back.”
Angie’s excitement spiked higher. She had planned to follow up with a doctor on this very subject, but the Nadine search had sidetracked her. She was grateful Mike had taken the initiative. It was an important discovery. A medical issue, something possibly documented, could be useful as they tried to make a positive identification.
“What did he say?”
“He can’t be definite because he would have to see the girl in his office to be sure.”
“Understood. Just tell me what he said.”
“Okay, okay. He said it was”—Mike glanced at his phone—“Microtia-Congenital Ear Deformity.”
“What the heck is that?”
“I’ll read you his e-mail. ‘Hi Mike, nice to meet you at Audwin’s birthday.” Mike lowered his phone and made a look of disgust. “What’s up with these names today anyway? Who names their kid Audwin? ‘Oh what a cute little baby. I think I’ll name him—Audwin.’ What’s wrong with—I dunno—Mike or Jack, Billy, David, or something, you know, normal.”
“Different strokes for different folks,” Angie said, repeating a favorite phrase of Walt Odette’s. “Plenty of people would have differing opinions on your style of dress, for example.”
“What’s wrong with plaid and khaki? It never goes out of style.”
Angie had no patience for tangents. “Is this even relevant? Who cares what the kid’s name is. Read on.”
Mike continued. “‘The boys seemed to really enjoy the Ghost Mansion. What a hoot!’” Mike smiled at Angie. “It really is a spectacular bouncy house.”
“Will you please just get to the point?”
“Easy, easy.” Mike tossed his hands in the air. “I’m just reading his e-mail.”
“Fine. But read the important part, will you?”
“Okay—um. ‘The kids seemed to have a lot of fun. I’ll definitely pass your name around—blah blah blah. Okay, here we go.”
“Finally.”
Mike shot Angie a sidelong glance. “ ‘It is my best guess that the girl in the photograph has the classic Microtia. This is a congenital deformity where the external ear is underdeveloped. The condition occurs in one out of every ten thousand births. The right ear is most commonly affected, as is the case with this little girl. The angle makes it a bit difficult to make a determination with complete certainty, but the ear has a vertical skin appendage with a malformed lobule (that’s earlobe). If so, the firm tissue at the upper part of the ear is a disorganized cartilaginous vestige. If you do locate this girl, please let her know that we could reconstruct the earlobe using a piece of lobular tissue from the lower end. I hope this helps. Please e-mail or call if you have further questions. Good luck in your search. Best Regards, Dave Trumbull.’”
Angie mulled over this new information. “I never heard of that before.”
“Me neither,” Mike said. “But now we know. So, what now?”
The answer would have to wait. A black Cadillac Escalade exited the parking garage and rolled past Angie’s car. The license plate matched Markovich’s vehicle.
“Now, we follow,” she said.
She turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. Timing was critical. Pull out too fast and get burned, but waiting too long risked losing sight of Markovich. Angie let Markovich get down the block before she eased into the road.
They were on the move.
CHAPTER 24
Markovich was five cars ahead and easy enough to spot that Angie decided to pull over and let Mike out. He had returned to DC in his own car, a red Toyota Corolla, and it was best if they each had a vehicle on this tail. If one of them got caught in traffic or something, the other could relay location information by cell phone.
Mobile surveillance is a bit of an art form because every ‘how to do it right’ rule comes with an exception. The amount of traffic and the environment (road conditions, traffic lights, and such) dictated how far back Angie would follow. Because of congestion, she wanted to be close. She got to within three cars of Markovich’s vehicle and would try to close that gap to two or even one at the next light if possible. The basic rule was the more traffic, the closer she had to follow.
Mike was easy to spot in her rearview mirror. She got him on the phone, using hands-free calling.
“There’s a major choke point up ahead,” Mike said. “Intersection between H and Sixth.”
Angie thanked him. Knowing ahead of time where the choke points were—places like intersections, toll roads, construction areas, basically anywhere it was possible to get stuck—was the best way to avoid getting caught in one. She pushed on the gas and weaved between a couple cars to get two cars behind Markovich.