folders by date created, and decided to work my way backwards.
Each folder was for one specific camera: twelve floors, twelve cameras, minimum. And all the floors looked the same.
Ivonne came over, distracting me from my frantic attempt to find the fourth floor.
‘ She’s been trafficked. Looks like she wacked the minder on the head,’ Ivonne said, ‘and with the lid of the toilet cistern.’
‘That should keep him down for a while.’
‘You bet. Just deserts,’ Ivonne said. ‘I hope she didn’t split his skull. That would be a real travesty.’
‘Yeah, not only would Erjon be after her, but the police as well for manslaughter.’
I turned back to the laptop, redoubling my efforts to find the folder for the fourth floor, spurred on by the thought of Erjon and the police, chasing not just Maria, but us as well.
Bingo. I found it and clicked play. Damn it, this would take forever. Use your brains, I chided myself. I sat back and took a deep breath. Inspiration struck: the camera must have caught the two goon s at the lift at approximately 3.45pm.
I clicked on rewind and sped the thing up to factor sixteen, as fast as the program would go.
With the time showing 3.45pm on the top right hand corner of the screen, I let the program play at normal speed. And . . . nothing!
Hey what? Even if Erjon had hijacked the camera, it must show the same event. Puzzled, I leaned back. I couldn’t make sense of it. What was the point of fiddling with the camera? What did Erjon gain?
Obviously the camera was functioning; otherwise there’d be a fuzzy, black and white blizzard, but there wasn’t. Devious.
I knew that the cleaning crew went along the passageway at around ten every morning. I spooled back. There they were, but the time showing was ten thirty. Okay, they start on the ground floor and work up. I found the folder for the fifth floor and spooled back to ten thirty: the cleaning crew. I double checked the times and the dates on floors four and five: identical.
Okay, it looked like the data from the camera on five was being fed into the feed from the fourth, my floor. I went back a couple of days, after all it was my ass on the line, and checked again; same thing.
But, did that prove that the camera on four was not recording? No, it didn’t. It was possible the data from camera five was being duplicated and appeared as the feed from camera four and, that way, no one would be any the wiser.
And I was none the wiser as to whether Maria’s dash into my arms had been recorded and observed. Shit, if we stayed in here we’d be caught. If we made a bolt for it, someone, Erjon, would know Maria had been in my apartment, and they’d see us making a break for it.
Shit, what if someone had been monitoring camera four since it had been tweaked? That would mean they knew we had our own mini system.
Calm down, my mind was racing away, covering all the angles and getting terribly het up in t he process. One thing at a time and no jumping to conclusions.
‘T ina?’ Ivonne said, startling me. ‘We’ve got a problem.’
‘So have I. And it’s how to get out of here, unseen.’
I turned to look at Ivonne. Maria was staring at me, her eyes alive with hope.
‘Maria says her cousin and her friend Yana are in Martha’s apartment.’
I sat very still, trying not to allow this disastrous piece of news to unnerve me completely.
‘And?’ I said.
Ivonne’s face resembled a sad-faced smiley. I stared into her eyes, waiting for her, someone, anyone to articulate the suggestion.
No one did and no one moved.
‘You can’t be serious?’ I said.
I stood up, my mind whizzing with thoughts; all centred around danger. We had to get Maria out of here and PDQ. That was dangerous enough. I shook my head. No, this can’t be. No, we can’t . . .
Catch a grip. If some had been watching, then the door to my apartment would have long since landed with a crash on the floor.
‘Ivonne come with me.’
I closed the door to
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