“Bloodyfuckin’hell. How am I so stupid?” I pushed back on the table and stood up, going for my phone which I had put to charge on the kitchen counter.
“What’s going on, Beck?”
“Just before you called me, I was sent a video file. The corner store I tracked down had switched to a digital system the same week you and Derrick were attacked. They were getting robbed left and right and figured to go all out. The videos are compressed and then stored in a server for, get this, seven years.”
“One more year and…”
“Yup. The video would have been deleted. But it wasn’t. So I went and checked it out, but the video was corrupt. I remember reading about something like that happening in the police report, but they were never specific about what store. And the police never bothered to push harder. They didn’t ask to take the tapes or do any troubleshooting.”
Oliver’s brow arched like the London Bridge. “You’re telling me… if those cops had just turned the computer on and off again, this entire thing may have been solved already?”
“It wasn’t exactly that simple. Also I don’t know if this is even the answer we’re looking for. I haven’t even seen the footage.”
I went back to the table, sitting down next to Oliver. My thumb hovered over the Play button. He leaned over, both our eyes trained to the screen.
The video started playing. The footage wasn’t the best, but it was clear enough to see the faces of everyone who passed the front of the shop. The video started off during the middle of the day. I clicked on the fast-forward arrow and watched as the tape scrubbed forward, plenty of people walking through the frame over the day. As night started to fall, the number of people started to lessen until the streets became empty.
I played the video at normal speed when the clock in the corner said eleven forty. This was around the time of the attack. If anyone had crossed down this street, then they would have been caught on film. We just had to—
“There!” Oliver pointed at the screen. I paused the video as two men took up center frame.
By now, the sun had set, and the video quality only got worse, but the corner store let off enough light from inside to illuminate one of the men quite clearly.
It appeared like the two men were both wearing the same dark sweaters Oliver had described. They were still wearing the ski masks they wore during the assault, but one of them had already taken off his gloves, the pockets of his jacket stuffed with them.
“Look,” Oliver said, noticing what I had picked up on.
The video wasn’t clear enough to make out perfect detail, but there was no doubt that the hand on the camera was tattooed with the same letters as Juan’s hand.
This was it. This was exactly what we needed. Oliver swallowed loudly, his hand moving to cover his mouth. The realization dawned on him as well.
“They can arrest him with this, right?” Oliver asked when he found the ability to create words again.
“With this and your testimony, he’s done.”
“But who’s that second person?” Oliver leaned in, as if he were going to fall into the screen. “Press Play.”
I listened. We watched the footage another dozen times, speeding it up and slowing it down, trying a few different tricks to try and get a clearer view of the second person, but nothing worked. They were shielded by shadow, Juan being the only one close enough to the corner store to be identified.
“Do you recognize the way they walk?” I asked, trying to jog something in Oliver’s memory.
He considered it for a moment, chewing on his lip. “No… I mean, kind of? They seem oddly familiar, but I can’t pinpoint it.”
We stayed up for another hour. Adrenaline kept us awake as we scoured the internet for video-clarifying software. I tried changing the brightness and the contrast, even tried layering the video on top of itself like one website suggested.
Nothing worked. If anything, the shadows only got worse.
“It has to be Juan’s brother, Mario.” Oliver sounded exhausted. A yawn followed his statement.
“I’m not so sure. Mario’s a little bigger than that.”
“Yeah, but this was six years ago. Maybe he started going to the gym more. It has to be him. We have that text of the two working together to fix a ‘problem.’ Those two are a team. They followed Derrick and I, and they killed him.”
I didn’t want to argue. I knew it still wasn’t enough to lock Mario up behind bars, but I was confident that we could get Juan, and that could be enough. People tend to crack when they’re offered plea deals. He might end up giving us the name of the shadow-man himself.
For now, though, I knew we had to get some sleep. It was already two in the morning, and this day felt like it had lastedat leastseventy-three hours.
I closed the laptop. Oliver stretched on the couch. He looked up at me as I stood, his eyes big and bright. “Can you carry me?” he asked, putting out his hands and closing his eyes.