The men pulled a number of traffic cones from the van and used them to cordon off one end of the street and the sidewalks in both directions. The instant this was done Shaw noted the satellite dish started moving.
“They’re jamming cell phone reception,” he deduced.
Royce nodded. “After having earlier cut the hard-line phone wires to the building.”
Shaw stiffened as the next frame on the screen showed a half dozen men erupt from the van and race into the building. It happened so fast it was almost impossible to clearly see their movements. Even someone looking out a window or passing down the street might not have thought anything was out of the ordinary.
“Slow it down,” Shaw instructed.
A minute later, the scene was replayed again at half speed and the picture was zoomed in. The men were all tall and fit-looking. Lifelike masks covered their faces, and any weapons they might have been carrying were concealed under the long coats each wore. Shaw scrutinized each figure, looking for anything of distinction, any exposed skin that might have a memorable marking on it, but he came away disappointed.
Royce, who’d been watching him, nodded in sympathy. “I know, we’ve been over it a dozen times and nothing hit us either. They were obviously pros. They knew the camera was there and acted accordingly.”
“I take it the camera feed isn’t reviewed in real time?”
“Unfortunately not, otherwise it would have elicited an energetic response from the Metropolitan Police, I can assure you. They also must have been aware of that.”
“I probably shouldn’t even bother asking this.”
“License plate and vehicle are dead ends. Van was stolen from a junkyard in Surrey about a week ago, the plates off a wreck at a repair garage here in London. The back door to this building was kicked in, so evidently an assault team came through there as well.”
“I think you hit it on the head, an assault team. Front, back, hit each floor grid by grid. They probably had a list of everyone who worked here and the physical layout of the place.” Shaw said this more to himself than to Royce. “Okay, run the rest of the feed.”
Shaw stiffened once more when the shattered window glass poured down on the street. He saw a head emerge and the person started screaming. He couldn’t hear her, because there was no audio. But he didn’t need to hear.
“That’s Anna!”
“I thought it might be,” Royce said.
Shaw stared hard at him. “How much did Frank tell you about her and me?”
“Not all that much, but enough. And I’ve been in Ms. Fischer’s office. I saw the photos of you and her. I’m sorry. Had you been together long?”
“Not long enough.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”
“Don’t even try to imagine it,” Shaw said back.
Royce cleared his throat and turned to the screen. “The windows were accidentally painted shut and she had to break the glass.”
“Accidentally? You’re sure?”
“We checked out the painting company. They’re legit, been doing buildings around here for decades. All hands accounted for and all. It’s not such an unusual thing apparently, shoddy work I mean. I had my flat done three years ago and I still can’t open the damn windows.”
Shaw wasn’t listening. He was watching the image of Anna as she called out the window, obviously for help, help that would never arrive. Then a moment later he saw her climb up onto the windowsill.
“Was she going to jump?” he said sharply.
“To that awning below, we’re guessing.”
“But she never made it,” Shaw said dully. “Why?”
“I have to warn you that the next few frames are… Well, they’re not easy to watch.” Royce turned to look at him. “Are you sure you want to keep going?”
“I need to see it.”
The next scenes were played out quickly. Anna was on the sill of the window, in her stocking feet, grasping both sides of the window with her hands.