Chapter 12:// Opening the Gate

Sebeck and Ross drove down Potrero Road, past the Arabian horse farms and neo-antebellum mansions set amid the rolling hills. It was warm and sunny now. California oaks shaded the road and clustered densely around wrought iron entrance gates flanked by white split-rail fences and stone walls. Most of the mansions were set back far from the road and hidden behind hills and hedges. The spicy scent of hay perfumed the air.

Ross studied the scenery. "Where are we going, Sergeant?"

"Sobol's estate. The FBI is there."

"I thought you were taking me back to my car."

"I need you to show the FBI exactly what you showed me back there."

"Look, they know where to find me if they have any questions."

"That's just it. I'm afraid they won't. And I'm not sure that any of their forensics experts have played Sobol's games before."

The police dispatcher's voice came over the radio. Sebeck grabbed the handset. "This is D-19. I'm 10–97 at 1215 Potrero Road. Out." He looked to Ross. "We're here."

Sebeck turned left past two marked patrol cars guarding the open gates of a large estate. He nodded to the deputies standing nearby and rolled past them, heading down the long driveway flanked by lines of mature oaks. In between the trunks they caught glimpses of a fine Mediterranean villa some distance ahead. This wasn't a modern replica. It looked like an authentic 1920s-era mansion with a cupola and slanting roofs capped in terracotta tile. The mansion was set back about a thousand feet from the road, nestled in a copse of manzanita trees.

Ross whistled.

Sebeck nodded. "Yeah, I didn't know there was so much money in computer games."

"They generate more revenue than all of Hollywood."

The driveway ended in a wide cobblestone courtyard flanked by a horse stable, a six-car garage, and what looked to be a guesthouse or office. The main house lay straight ahead with landscaped lawns opening the courtyard on either side. Through these openings Sebeck saw sweeping views of the estate grounds.

More than a dozen police vehicles were parked in the courtyard-FBI sedans, county patrol cars, a forensics van, an ambulance, and the bomb squad's truck with a disposal trailer. But there was room to spare. The courtyard was large.

Sebeck pulled up behind a sedan with white government plates. He and Ross got out.

A couple dozen officers stood near the entrance to the main house. They were listening to Neal Decker addressing them from the steps leading up to the mansion's heavy wooden door. It was a mix of county and local police, along with federal agents wearing blue windbreakers with the letters FBI stenciled on the back. It was impossible to hear what Decker was saying at this distance.

Nathan Mantz came up to Sebeck as he and Ross took in the scene. "Hey, Pete. You're just in time."

"How'd it go at the permit office?"

Mantz shook his head. "No permit pulled for the winch housing. The gate was installed by a big GC named McKenser and Sons. Licensed, bonded, legit. Nothing in the permit applications about a winch. I put a call in to McKenser's office, and they're checking their records."

Mantz looked to Ross. "You're that computer guy the Feds were holding." He extended his hand. "Detective Nathan Mantz."

Ross shook his hand. "Jon Ross. I was cleared, by the way."

Sebeck kept his eye on the crowd of agents in the distance. "Yeah, it turns out Mr. Ross here is quite an expert-on a few subjects. I brought him out to the canyon scene, and he shed some light on things. I've got important information for Decker." Sebeck pointed to Decker, who was addressing the troops. "What are the Feds up to?"

"They're preparing to search the house. FBI bomb squad and forensics teams came up from L.A. Decker's treating this as a hazardous search."

Ross nodded. "He's right. It is."

Mantz gave him a curious look.

Sebeck jerked a thumb at Ross. "He thinks it's Sobol, not somebody at CyberStorm. Now he's got me wondering."

Mantz nodded, impressed. "Really?"

Sebeck tore a page out of his small notepad and handed it to Mantz. "Nathan, do me a favor; here's the manufacturer and serial number on the winch assembly. When we get back to the station, check with the factory to see if they have a record of the wholesaler they shipped it to. Let's find out what else was purchased."

"No problem." Mantz pocketed the piece of paper.

Sebeck walked toward the gathered officers. Ross and Mantz followed. They passed three FBI agents preparing a tracked bomb disposal robot. Ross took a keen interest, peering over their shoulders as they tested the video cameras with a large remote control.

They were having problems. The operator smacked the handheld controller. "Try channel four. Is the picture any clearer?"

Sebeck tugged Ross along.

Decker was still addressing the troops."…papers, computers, electrical components, tools. Virtually everything should be considered dangerous until the bomb squad marks a room as clear. If you find a device-"

Decker leaned down as agent Straub said something to him. Decker looked up again at the crowd. "Hang on. Is anyone else having radio problems?"

Most of the officers held up their hands and voiced in the affirmative.

Sebeck noticed a man in his fifties and a woman in her forties standing among the FBI agents. The two civilians looked pensive. Sebeck turned to Mantz.

Mantz responded. "The caretaker and the security guard. Husband and wife. Sobol's widow lives in Santa Barbara. They separated before his death. Get this: she told them she couldn't live in the house because she heard voices. They're tracking her down as we speak. I was hoping she'd be here…" Mantz pulled a folded magazine page out of his jacket pocket. He unfolded it to reveal a photo of a tanned and beautiful blonde wearing a string bikini and stretched out on the wet sand of a tropical beach. "The widow Sobol. Miss New Zealand, 2001."

Sebeck grabbed the page. "Holy shit."

Ross leaned in. "Wow."

Mantz grabbed it back. "Show some respect. She's in mourning." He folded it and put it back into his jacket pocket. "Sobol may have died of cancer, but I still envy the bastard."

Sebeck was already walking toward the crowd of agents and officers. He waded through them, headed directly for Assistant Chief Eichhorn.

"Hey, Chief." Sebeck stepped aside and gestured toward Ross. "This is Jon Ross-the computer consultant from Alcyone."

Chief Eichhorn nodded toward Ross. "One of the guys the Feds brought in."

"They cleared him this morning. I was bringing him back to Woodland Hills, and I stopped by the Pavlos scene to get serial numbers. Mr. Ross detected a wireless device there. He has some pretty mind-blowing theories about how Sobol's doing all this. I think Decker should talk to this guy."

"Pete, the FBI brought experts in from L.A. and Washington."

"Yeah, but I don't know how many of them have spent serious time playing in Sobol's games. Mr. Ross has."

"I can't vet Mr. Ross's skills-no offense-can you,Pete?"

"Somebody technical should listen to him."

Suddenly the FBI robot crew leader stepped between them and called up to Decker on the patio. "The robot's a no-go, Neal. There's signal interference. This guy probably has spread spectrum radio towers or something inside."