Thirteen
I’M TRYING TO ABSORB the bomb Gladys dropped on me. “Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know where Dan is?”
“OK, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Gladys says. Going back to her desk, she punches a few keys and a map of Myerton appears, populated by red dots.
“Each of the cars in the fleet is tagged with a GPS transponder,” she explains. “So we can see where everyone is at one time. You can see some are parked, some are moving.”
“Where’s Dan?”
A couple of more keystrokes zooms the map to what I recognize as Dan’s street. A red single red dot is at a specific address.
“That’s Dan’s car,” Gladys says. “It’s in his driveway, and has been since early this morning. About 8 a.m., Miriam called, said Dan wouldn’t be in today because he was sick. But like I say, he’s been out thr
