“All right, so he has a fake broken nose, too.”
“Right.” She changed photos again. “Now here’s the Pemberton nose, enlarged, alongside the Weatherby shot. Look at the other side of the nose.”
“I’m looking.”
“The other side of both noses is very like that side of Weatherby’s.”
“But not the chin,” Lance said. “It’s softer, less firm.”
“It certainly is, but here’s what happens when I straighten Weatherby’s nose and remove his Vandyke.” She switched to two photos where the hair was cropped out but the faces were enlarged. “What do you see now?”
“They’re beginning to look related,” Lance said. “Brothers?”
“No, there’s spirit gum on Weatherby’s chin, as well as his nose. If we remove that we get…”
Lance furrowed his brow. “Pemberton’s chin?”
“Exactly. They’re not brothers; they’re the same man.” She clicked on two other photos, and images appeared that made the two men look the same.
“Has anybody who knew Teddy Fay seen these?”
“The only two people still in Tech Services who knew him. They both said it could be, but they couldn’t say for sure. Of course, I’ve altered the photos to reflect what I think the men would look like without disguises, but since there are no known photos of Teddy, we can’t be sure it’s him. But I’d put the chances at around seventy-thirty that it is.”
“Well, at least we can have our people hunt down these men-this man, rather-and photograph him.”
“From what I’ve heard about Teddy, that could be awfully hard to do,” Mona said. “But I’ve done this,” she said, switching to a page of a dozen photographs, all different. “I’ve made up this man with various combinations of wigs, mustaches and subtle changes in the face. Why don’t you e-mail this page to our people and see what they can do with it?”
“I will do so immediately, Mona,” Lance said.
She handed him a DVD. “Here’s everything,” she said. “Let me know how it works out.” She took her laptop and left.
Lance picked up the phone and dialed Holly’s satphone number. No answer and no voice mail. He sat down at his computer, inserted the DVD Mona Barry had given him and transmitted it to Holly’s laptop, along with an e-mail explaining what she had done.
52
Stone and Holly lay on the bed, panting and sweaty. The remains of their lunch were on the floor at the foot of the bed.
“Once more?” Holly asked.
“You’re killing me,” Stone said. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Only joking.”
“Thank God.” Stone changed the subject. “Have you reported in to Lance?”
“Ah, no, not yet.”
“You’re afraid to tell him we aren’t going to find Teddy, aren’t you?”
“Certainly not.”
“You sound uncertain.”
“I’m not uncertain, I’m lazy. I’d rather fuck you than talk to Lance on the satphone.”
“Well, that would be my choice, too.”
“Then you should be a happy man.”