18
Pellegrini found out that Isaac’s apartment had been repossessed by the bank for debts and where he lived now was unclear. Questioning the neighbors didn’t turn up anything. Isaac hadn’t been on friendly terms with any of them.
Isaac’s sister was in hospital, in a coma. Pellegrini visited the hospital and asked them to call him immediately if Monsieur Leroy shows up.
The commissioner had a pleasant, warm feeling in his chest — as always when he was not idling but focused on a case. Events and facts looked strange: Isaac moved out and lives nowhere, came to the Agency, but didn't download. All other donors injured in the attack went through afterwards, and this guy never returned. Though the need for the money didn't disappear. Maybe his sister is just a cover? On top of that, he sat together with Henri Cavalier, who suspiciously refused to communicate. That statement was strange. Also, judging by the roaming, Isaac visited Amsterdam, and London, and not just in somewhere, but at the University of Link.
Pellegrini was passing down his hotel room like a tiger in the cage. This long-forgotten feeling – it will soon find and reveal the offender. That everything is a coincidence with a lot of accidents occurring around the innocent loser, Pellegrini couldn't believe. Isaac was clearly fishy. "Suspected partaking in the attack," - the Commissioner made a mark opposite to the name Leroy in his notepad. After writing that, the commissioner decided to speak with the physician of Isaac's sister. This conversation could explain something.
“Let’s go through it again.” Bikie was a bit nervous.
“Again, we’re reporters from a student journal and we’ve come to interview Professor Link.” Isaac wasn’t nervous, on the contrary, he had calmed down a little. “That cover story works just fine.”
They were standing near the gates of a high wall around a mansion where Yoshi had dropped out of sight the day before. In the last few days they had thought through lots of different options. The absence of an entry phone seemed strange, they could not see any security cameras either. Bikie had wanted to launch a small drone, but Isaac was afraid its noise would alarm their game. And they did not have the money for an expensive noiseless one.
The request of an interview would astonish anybody who opens the gate.
If the staff in the villa didn’t know who they were really working for, then they must know him by a different name. They would probably repeat the name “Link” and tell the guys they had the wrong address, but if the person who opened the door knew, he would be startled thus giving himself away. He would ask who had come and say they were mistaken, or something of the kind only after a pause. Since there were no cameras, someone would open up in person and a person’s face could say a lot.
In any case they would ask to pass on a note that said the following:
“Dear Professor Link,
We kindly request you to grant us an interview. You need have no concern that your whereabouts are known to anyone but us. We are neither enemies nor friends of yours, but we need your help. We ask you to meet us in token of friendship. If you turn us down, it will be pointless for us to keep your location secret.
Yours sincerely, Isaac and Bikie.
“PS. Please call the following number, we are staying in a hotel not far from you.”
In the case that they refused to take the note, Isaac and Bikie had planned to leave. Half an hour later a pizza delivery man drove up to the house and handed over the note together with the bill while Isaac and Bikie remained at a safe distance.
Bikie thought they had to give Link three hours to consider, assuming that he wasn’t likely to contact the police, and if he had any backup, it could only come from the Agency. But that was unlikely – plus it would take at least three or four hours.
The guys shelled out for a second hotel room, on the ground floor with an exit into a garden. The hotel was by no means cheap, with air conditioning and a mini-bar, which, of course, were totally useless for the operation. But one big plus was the market nearby, and several tourist cafes and souvenir shops. Basically a busy spot. Bikie bought more video cameras and a local mobile phone - a prepaid one for visitors, that didn’t require registering.
They set up the notebook and a web camera in the room. The broadcast signal went directly into the Internet, and it was impossible to determine quickly who was watching it and where from. The telephone number in the note was cunningly redirected, and the phone itself was linked to the computer.
Bikie had done something smart: after a minute of the ringing tone, a program cut in that sent the call into the web. But the phone carried on ringing, and you could still answer it, or you could answer via the Internet.
“In short, it’s not possib