[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
wait for Jannick, and although no one was likely to pay attention to a quietly
parked Mercedes, they might be discomfited by the sight of a man repeatedly
stepping out of it to urinate on the curb.
Page 53
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
I drove by Jannick s house. There was still no car in front, but my guess was
that it was in the garage. The sun was just coming up, and the house was dark.
I drove down to OPM and parked in my spot. I couldn t see his house from here,
but I d catch him when he pulled onto Page Mill.
While I waited, listening to a woman named Alisa Clancy on a radio show called
Morning Cup of Jazz, I wondered who Jannick really was. A guy with an aptitude
for technology? And where did his ambition come from? Did he miss his home in
the Netherlands, or was this place, with its yoga-supple people and clean and
prosperous streets, his home now?
One thing I didn t ask, though nor could I deny it, was whether he had a
family. Of course he did. The house was too big, and too suburban, for anyone
to live in it alone. And his car, a Volvo S80, had kids written all over it.
But the less I knew about all that, the better. It s one thing to recognize
something intellectually. It s quite another to see it no, watch it with your
own eyes. The last time I d gotten too close to the family of a target, in
Manila, I d frozen and damn near died. In unguarded moments, I still thought
of the little boy whose father I d taken. I wasn t going to go through that
again.
I waited. No one disturbed me. I had to leave the engine off because if the
car were running it might have attracted attention. The interior got cold, but
the parka helped. The Venti cup proved handy.
At just past seven-thirty, someone on a bicycle came down Christopher and made
a left onto OPM. He was wearing a white helmet and a fluorescent-yellow
windbreaker, something designed both for warmth and to be visible to cars. I
eased down in the seat a bit and watched through the windshield, thinking it
was someone out for his morning exercise. But as he got closer, I realized
Christ, that might be him. I d been so fixated on the Volvo I was waiting for
that it took me a moment to adjust. He passed me, not even giving the Mercedes
a second look. I was going only on a bunch of out-of-date photos, but the
shape of the face, the glasses& I was pretty sure it was Jannick.
Shit, the bike changed everything. Was this just exercise, or was it his
commute? If the latter, I didn t know what route he might take, and I couldn t
tail him effectively in a car even if I did.
I thought for a moment. Follow him down OPM? I didn t like the idea. The road
was really nothing but an old jug handle to Page Mill. It wasn t closed to
cars, but there was no reason a car would use it. Following him directly would
be too conspicuous.
I fired up the Mercedes and cut left on Page Mill, paralleling OPM. I pushed
it up to fifty, wanting to go faster but holding back because of the risk of a
cop. Up ahead was a turnoff on Deer Creek Road; the light was red and I had to
wait for it. Come on, come on, I thought. I wanted to get ahead of him before
he came out on Page Mill so I could get another look.
The light changed and I shot forward. I got to the other end of the jug handle
just in time to see the bicyclist pull out onto a bike lane on the other side
of Page Mill. A hundred yards ahead was another intersection and another
traffic light. Good, I thought. We ll both have to stop and I ll get another
look.
I was half right. While I was stopped at the light, the bicyclist made a left
onto the bike path on Junípero Serra. Shit.
It was a painfully long light. When the left turn signal finally changed to
green, I cut into the turning lane and made a left onto Junípero Serra. A
minute later, I d caught up to him. I glanced over as I passed, but again I
couldn t be totally sure.
I pulled ahead of him, wondering whether he was going to the Stanford campus.
But instead, he made a right. Damn. I did a U-turn and backtracked to where
he d turned off, a road called Stanford Avenue. I made a left and drove
forward but didn t see him. There were a number of smaller, residential
streets snaking off on both sides. Unless I got lucky, for the moment I had
probably lost him.
I thought for a moment. Maybe he was on his way to work. He avoided Page Mill
Page 54
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
because it was a busy road and farther north it had no bike lane. He was
taking a more roundabout route, both for safety and for the exercise.
It felt right. I got back onto Junípero Serra, then Page Mill, and went
straight to his office. There were a few cars in the parking lot now enough to
find concealment, not so many that I had to worry about too many people seeing
and possibly remembering the Mercedes. I pulled in next to a Lexus SUV,
putting it between me and the parking lot entrance, cut the engine, and
waited.
Ten minutes later, the bicyclist pulled into the parking lot and rode straight
to Jannick s building. Bingo.
I watched him carry the bike inside, then I drove down to the shopping center
at the other end of East Bayshore. Now was the time for a call. From a pay
phone, I dialed his office. One ring, two, then a voice: Jan Jannick.
Ah, sorry& wrong number, I mumbled, and hung up. I wiped down the pay phone
and went back to the car.
I drove slowly back in the direction of his house, thinking. The office was no
good. The house would be difficult at best. But he was on a bike& . That would
create opportunities I hadn t considered before.
I thought about what I knew. Two locations, home and work, neither of them
suitable. An unknown route in between. I considered buying a bicycle so I
could follow him more closely and see what opportunities developed, but it
felt too improvised, too uncertain. What I needed was a choke point. A place I
could anticipate him, a place I could prepare and control.
I thought about OPM again. In a car you wouldn t bother; it would just be a
slower alternative to the four lanes of Page Mill right next to it. But on a
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
