Part 10 (1/2)
”I could call technical support,” Luiz suggested.
”No. I want to keep this between us for now,” Gannon said. ”Think, Luiz. Did you ever see him submit his code or get a glimpse of any of the key strokes?”
”No, but I heard it all the time. It went like this--” Luiz tapped four quick strokes on the desk, paused then tapped a fifth. ”One, two, three, four. Always like that.”
”So it's a four-character code, because the fifth would be the enter key. Four characters. That's pretty short for a pa.s.sword. Okay, let's check the notes for a four-character word, or name.”
They had studied them for fifteen minutes when Luiz froze.
”I think I know Marcelo's pa.s.sword. His girlfriend's name is Anna, spelled A-N-N-A, that's four characters.”
Gannon entered the name with the first letter in upper case.
It failed.
”Try with no capital letters,” Luiz said.
Gannon typed anna and pressed Enter.
The screen flashed to Marcelo's desktop and screen saver of Rio de Janeiro's skyline at night, a shot he'd taken himself.
”That's it!” Luiz said.
”We're in! It would be an Internet link. Go to his favorites.” Gannon got out of the chair. ”Luiz, you do it. You'll recognize names faster.”
Luiz translated after he'd pulled down a list of links for sports teams, a bank, camera stores, weather, magazines, an auto shop and restaurants.
”This could be it,” Luiz translated, ”Onlinephotocapture.”
”Hit it.”
An array of news and feature photos came up. Luiz translated the text.
”Onlinephotocapture...welcome to Onlinephotocapture...the secure members-only Web site for storing visual data....”
”This might be it,” Gannon said.
It was secure with a member's log-in tab, requiring a user ID and another pa.s.sword. Gannon cursed under his breath.
”It's no problem,” Luiz said. ”This one has a pa.s.sword recall feature. Marcelo's locked in his pa.s.sword, see?”
A couple of clicks and they had entered Marcelo's page. Luiz translated: ”Marcelo V. Storage Inventory.” Gannon felt a chill rush up his spine. Topping the item list: Cafe Amaldo and the date of the explosion.
”Open it.”
Half a dozen thumbnail photos appeared on the screen.
”Open the first one,” Gannon said.
It presented a well-framed photo of a beautiful woman alone at a table of the busy cafe. A long silence pa.s.sed as Luiz and Gannon realized the significance of the image.
”That's Gabriela.” Luiz swallowed. ”Before her death.”
”Jesus,” Gannon whispered.
Luiz clicked to the next picture.
A woman in her late twenties, dressed in a blazer and skirt, was gripping the strap of a shoulder bag and standing before Gabriela's table.
Luiz clicked.
Next, a close-up of the woman, worry creasing her face and making her appear older than her wardrobe and posture suggested.
Next, the woman sitting at Gabriela's table, removing a legal-sized envelope from her bag. Next, Gabriela reading doc.u.ments from the woman's envelope, which was open on the table before them.
When the last picture came up, Luiz gasped.
Tentacles of smoke spattered with debris shot out in all directions radiating from a red-yellow fireball. Marcelo had photographed the instant of the explosion within the millionths of a second he and the others were killed by it.
And like the others, this image was transmitted immediately to his page at Onlinephotocapture.
”My G.o.d!” Luiz said.
”Unbelievable,” Gannon agreed. ”Marcelo photographed the moment of his death.” He shook his head. ”No one has seen these pictures, right, Luiz?”
”No, no one knows they exist. None of the others here have thought to look for them as you did, Mr. Gannon.”
”Don't tell anyone. I need time to follow this up my way.”
”But they're so amazing. WPA's news subscribers around the world would want these pictures.”
”I know.”
”And what about the police? Isn't this evidence we should give to them?”
”We'll sort that out later. I need time to chase this lead. Swear to me you won't tell anyone just yet, okay?”
Luiz nodded.
”Pa.s.s me that copy of the Jornal do Brasil, please.”
Gannon spread the newspaper over the desk's clutter so he and Luiz could study the ten victims of the bombing.
”This one--” Luiz pressed his finger on one of the pictures ”--her name is Maria Santo. She is the woman in Marcelo's pictures, Gabriella's source.”
Gannon unfolded the floor plan Estralla had given him. It put Maria Santo at the table of architects and secretaries next to Gabriela, but her chair was flagged with a question mark, meaning the investigators were uncertain as to where exactly Santo was positioned.