Ransom X
*****
Legacy burst into the office at nine o’clock, seemingly on a mission. Wagner sulked in the corner, but Legacy barely gave her a glance, he was on to something.
“Hey.” She started the conversation abruptly.
“I’m having the ten of the video frames enlarged –” he spoke to the coat rack, the desk and the walls instead of to his partner. “We need to make a chart the bodies of each of the men, label spatial quadrants for every square inch of each character in the video. There might be something else.”
“Did you get a call from Wilkes?” Wagner replied.
Legacy had no patience for games “He called you right after he talked to me.”
“I-” Wagner said.
“ - Got a call from him at around 1 AM and Wilkes asked you if it was worth it to continue. What did you say?” Legacy spoke like he was reading from a transcript; there was no pause between the words for thought or objection.
“I said it was worth it.”
“Now you’re in the boat too.”
Legacy let that sink in for a moment.
Wagner responded, “Why are you picking out video frames?”
Legacy explained, “The lights are halogen, three paired clusters with 24000 watts bulbs in each, bright enough for bleed through mesh, linen and even a thin membrane.”
“You saw beneath their costumes?”
“I detected uneven shading beneath the colored layer. The same place on every one of them.”
“Scars?” Wagner asked.
“I doubt it. Uniform length and width of the pattern indicates a design -” He lead her along and she followed.
“Tattoos.” She nodded her head. “How did you get there?”
Legacy stopped staring at the pictures on the wall and beamed a proud look at the agent. “That’s the best question you’ve asked since coming here.”
“I’m a prodigy.” She smirked, evidently coming out of her funk.
“There was a fingerprint on the outside of a photo album that was delivered to my door. It belonged to the first victim, Kelly.”
“The first victim we know of.” Wagner corrected.
“Exactly.” Legacy walked over to the wall covered in photos and pressed his own finger on one of the enlarged frames. It left a meaty print. “I noticed the print because it was in smudge of something that looked like motor oil, Kelly was into motorbikes. She practiced with a Harley to ride in the homecoming parade. The abductors were still pretty new to the business when they took her, and they went after a familiar image. They took a girl on a bike. We’re hunting for a group of riders, and they all have tattoos on their forearms that are approximately seven inches of jagged design. They needed to cover it to cover their tracks and so they used fetish as their camouflage.” Wagner looked unimpressed.
“You’re excited about this?” Legacy had thought that she’d have been on the phone immediately. “Do you really think the tattoo is going to include names and addresses?” Legacy shook his head. “Then I’m going to the bathroom.”
The bathroom stall door shut behind Wagner and her phone was in her hand, a spastic series of speed dial beeps and a quick connection.
“Bailey here.”