Renee sees the drive-by request on Tuesday morning.
She looks at it. Looks at me. "Isley."
"She's been doing site surveys in the Narrows. She's been near the building." I keep it factual. "She got silent calls for two weeks. Changed her number."
Renee is quiet for a moment. "You think Dulmacher knows who she is."
"I think she's been photographing buildings in his operational area. I think if he's been careful for eleven years he notices things like that."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner."
"She told me last night. The calls were last week."
Renee holds that for a moment, the way she holds things she's deciding how to categorize. "Does she know what you're not telling her."
It's a precise question. She's asking whether Pamela understands the full extent of what her research has walked her into.
"She knows it's connected to the case," I say. "She doesn't have the operational detail."
"Does she need it."
"Not yet."
Renee writes something. "The drive-by stays. If the calls resume we upgrade." She looks at her screen. "The FBI came back on the designation from the files. It matches a format used by a private research entity registered in the Cayman Islands. They can't give us the entity name without a longer process."
"How long."
"Weeks. Possibly more." She pulls up the board. "What we have is a buyer we can't identify yet and a subject we can't locate."
Dulmacher. The third location.
We'd been working the property chain from the southern Narrows building forward, looking for any related registration, any connected entity. The chain was thin after three layers. Renee had found two possible addresses but both were dead ends on inspection: vacant, nothing in the foundation.
The historical registration from fourteen years ago had given us two active nodes. We'd found both. Both had been cleared by the time we got there, one in operation, one recently vacated.
He moves when he's disturbed. He's been disturbed twice. He'll have a third location already prepared.
"The buyer," I say. "If we can't find the location through property records, we find it through the buyer. Whoever is funding this has to get to Dulmacher somehow."
"We can't access the buyer without the Cayman entity."
"Not through the FBI." I think about the files. The handwriting. The partial name and the title. Consultant, W.E. "There's something in the files I haven't given you yet."
She looks at me.
I tell her about the Wayne Enterprises notation. All of it. The partial name, the title, what it could mean and what it might not mean. I tell it straight, without editorializing.
Renee is quiet for longer than usual.
"You held that for two days," she says.
"I wasn't sure what it meant."
"Are you sure now."
"No. But I don't have a better move."
She looks at the board. "Wayne Enterprises is not a name I take to Fasano without more. It's not a name I take anywhere without more."
"I know."
"It might be nothing. A consultant acting independently. A name misread." She picks up a pen. "But I'm going to pull every public record I can on W.E. consulting contracts in the past four years and see if anything connects to the research designation."
"That'll take time."
"Yes." She's already pulling. "Keep looking for the third location."
I keep looking.
The third location surfaces through Pamela.
Not directly. She doesn't find it. But on the Thursday of that week, eleven days after I'd told her to stay away from the southern Narrows block, she sends me a photograph.
External only, taken from across the street. A building in the East End she'd been passing on her way to a site survey. She'd noticed subsidence in the foundation consistent with the contamination plume projection she'd been working on. She'd taken a photograph because that's what she does with foundations that show subsidence.
I look at the address in the photograph's metadata.
I cross-reference it with the property records we've been running.
The building is registered to a holding company that doesn't appear in any of our current chains. But the registration address for the holding company is a building in Midtown that I recognize: it appears in Fasano's files as a Falcone-adjacent property, different node, same network.
A new branch of the same infrastructure.
I call Pamela immediately. "The photograph you sent. Did you go inside."
"No. External only. I'm on my way to Crane Street."
"Don't go back to that building. Don't go near that block."
A pause. "It's the same thing, isn't it."
"I think so. Yes."
"Okay." This okay has no qualifier in it. This one is clean. "I'm going to Crane Street. I'll go straight home after."
"Call me when you're home."
She calls me at eight-fifteen. I sit with the phone in my hand for a moment after we hang up and then I call Renee.