Page 131 of The Grave Artist

public class DeleteFile {

public static void main(String[] args) {

File file = new File(“F;\Admin\Main\LATraf\Surveillance\Make\Mercedes.txt”);

file.delete();

}

}

Tandy frowned. “The hell?”

“It deleted records of all Mercedes picked up on camera for the past hour. The admin’s removing that script, but if Garr wasn’t out of the surveillance zone before, he probably is now.”

Jake noted Sanchez’s eyes closing briefly. He could only imagine the agony she was feeling about her sister.

It was then that a man’s booming voice startled Sanchez. “Guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”

Fuck.

They all turned to see Stan Reynolds striding into the Garage. He added, “Of course in the digital age, the odds of any missive getting lost are rather rare, aren’t they, Mr. Internet Maven Heron? No postal service issue.”

Sanchez said, “Things have moved fast. We just got his ID minutes ago.”

“Time is relative, as Einstein taught us.” He gazed at the surveillance videos. “We are where?”

She explained about the unsub’s identity.

“Well, bully for you. I’ll forgive you for failing to find his assets and dig up dirt on his foreign agent registrations. And lying to me about it. No, no, no. No denial. You’ve saved your bacon by identifying Ivanov’s hit man. Garr. Maybe short for Garritsky or something. So. What kindof Russian connections have you found?” Reynolds was staring at the video feed from Grange’s tac team cameras.

That again.

“None, sir. We’re convinced he’s a true sociopath. He’s obsessed with causing grief and sorrow. He kills, yes, but it’s only so he can watch people mourn at the graveside.”

Reynolds said cynically, “Who on earth would get excited about that? No, he’s no serial killer at all. It’s a perfect cover. We’re all looking for Norman Bates inPsycho, and he sneaks up behind us and murders Anthony Brock. Brilliant when you think about it. But good thing I took over. We stopped him in his tracks.” He pointed at the screen. “And he’s holed up in his house?”

“No,” Jake said. “He’s not inside. Nobody’s there.”

“Location?”

“Unknown.”

“Is he alone? Some wily GRU officer with him? Maybe his handler.”

Jake glanced toward Sanchez and sensed that they’d arrived at the same decision.

“He may have a potential hostage,” Jake said.

It would be a bad idea to admit that the individual was a relative of the lead agent on the case. He would likely kick Sanchez off the investigation immediately, and Jake might soon follow.

“My,” Reynolds said, frowning. “Anybody official? High up? Somebody it might be suggested we were supposed to be guarding but slipped up on?”

Reynolds had gone straight into ass-covering mode. Jake boiled at his callous narcissism. “No.”

“Good. Now, does Garr have any other residences?”

Sanchez said, “Not that we could find.”