Acquaintances, Bygones, Ethics, and Life

"It's automated, I set up a sub-routine when I started work, to speed things up."

"You'd said there was a unique code sent by email." She giggled.

"How did you ever do this without me? It is, but I have them all sent here as a blind CC, too." She wagged a finger at me, "And you lied to Thomas, there is a backup out front."

"He pointed a gun at us. He interrupted us a second time."

"How much is in the accounts?"

"I don't know yet, I was not sure yet what I was going to do with that information."

"I still don't understand how you got this."

"That's simple enough... These cameras are amazing. Hi resolution and steerable. He has a bit of a vanity issue. There were maybe a dozen framed photos behind him. All I had to do was find a photo where the reflection was of the screen if it was not security covered or his fingers on the keyboard. The dummy had a file... sure it was password protected, but all of those accounts and their passwords so that he could easily reference them. It was easier than I had expected, I only had to get the first screen capture of what he was looking at and reverse the image." It had been a little more difficult than that, but not much.

"So why give them to me?"

"The only other place I have them is my phone, which he just took," I shrugged, "Which won't help him, but before I forgot them I wanted to write them down, and I expect when the police hear I fired that shot I'll get to go downtown... not something I want to just hand over to IA."

"Why not?" she had finished dressing and stepped over to retrieve her coat.

"The trench coat was a nice touch," I complimented her, "I figure first we need to change the passwords on those accounts so he can't use them to leave the country... Maybe even change the accounts. I don't trust that the money wouldn't just disappear if someone in IA is impressed at however much he has socked away, or that they would get to it before he does."

"You want me to do that now?" she asked, and I shrugged, "But maybe don't use the office computer, no sense leaving a trail if IA really gets serious about seeing how we helped him." And that meant it was time to ask her some questions. I went back to my desk, sat down, wondering if it was really necessary.

"Hey, Lace? C'mere when you get done with that."

"All right," she called back, "But you'd better have your pants on. Like you said, we can expect visitors, soon, and I'm on the clock." I chuckled, hoping I was wrong for once. I dug the Maker's Mark out and put a finger in the tumbler. My hand was shaking, dribbling some of the amber firewater down the outside of the glass, and creating a ring where it sat. .

"What?" As usual Lacey was impressive in her efficiency. She swept into the room, but did not sit down. Her coat was draped over her arm. I realized I had left my Glock sitting on the desk.

"What do you suppose he was talking about?" I asked. She shrugged.

"Who knows. Maybe IA has been sniffing around since when you were under indictment."

"Over cheating on his partner? Hardly. And no way he would have moved up if they had real suspicion."

"That's my Boy Scout," she teased, "Always willing to trust the machine. You know, the same machine that chewed you up and spit you out."

"Point taken. But something we did over the weekend had to be what triggered the IA action. I just don't know what it could have been."

"Maybe they'll tell you when they're asking you their questions." I shook my head.

"IA doesn't answer questions. They find answers." I looked pointedly at the coat on her arm. "Going somewhere?"

"I thought I might avoid IA asking me questions," she shrugged. I nodded.

"That sounds like a good idea... we could get an early breakfast," I leaned forward as if to get up. I will always believe the single tear tracking down her cheek was real as Lacey moved one foot back, pulling a satin finish S&W 3913LS out of the fold in her coat.

"Damnit," she wiped at her cheek with the back of the hand holding the gun. "I told her you were too smart." I snorted.

"So smart I let you get the drop on me." She smiled, shrugged. And made sure my Glock was out of reach, sliding it off of the table behind her onto the floor. I winced at the clatter, even though we both knew it would not misfire. "At least tell me why, Lace." She pursed her lips, shook her head.

"I think you've figured it out."

"Okay," I nodded, "I was not the only one to use the camera trick. You had those numbers."

"Nice of you to give me your copy," she agreed, "Yes, I had the accounts."

"So the passwords had already been changed."

"Oh no, the accounts had already been emptied," she laughed, "Or maybe he would not have been here so angry."

"Numbered accounts would get IA interested, I agree," I told her, "But it would not get a full on office breach like he described. So there's more." She nodded.

"Cane was... Cane's 'security' is not your run of the mill corporate protection. It's not your run of the mill data center protection. He was protecting the Syndicate."

"You aren't telling me the whole story," I shook my head, pretending not to have noticed the capital S in 'the Syndicate.' "You did not have the passwords to the accounts until this morning, because his file was hidden and he had just accessed it after midnight."

"No, but I had the password to his computer. And he had other... incriminating evidence on that."

"So you gave IA the laptop," I said not believing a word of it. She sighed.

"I already knew Cane was dirty."

"How?"

"Personal experience." I shook my head.

"Not enough. Specifics. Please." She tilted her head.

"I was a model." I nodded, that was easy to believe. "You know all the #MeToo reports? It's more than a cottage industry in Hollywood and the fashion world. I found out the hard way that Epstein's wasn't the only Rape Island on the border of the US." I winced, remembering what I had said Wednesday night, and how she had reacted.

"I'm sorry," I told her, praying all of... us had not been an elaborate con.

"It's okay," she shrugged, "My family didn't know. I got out as soon as I could, came home, and was going on with my life. Then at a family reunion I saw a man from... Before."

"Cane." She nodded.

"He was there. I had seen him on the island while they were... instructing us in our duties and their expectations."

"So you did look familiar to him," I was lying, but offering her an out. She arched a sculpted eyebrow.

"He wasn't wrong..."

"He said I have a type," I finished the thought, "That got me thinking," I acknowledged. It was also wrong, but I was not going to argue." Lacey was also saying I did not need to play the game.

"So you and my ex wife are related. She's the inside man. How did she point Cane my direction?"

"Are you kidding? I was supposed to get the cameras and we were going to set them up and do this without you. But you keep it all in the damn truck and have the only keys."

It's the most dangerous part of these jobs," I said defensively, "You could have ordered more."

"No, you check the invoices." She was thorough. And careful. I resisted looking at my ace in the hole.

"So IA..." She just watched me. "You knew the site, probably the location and maybe the name of the company. This gave you the proof he was involved."

"Bingo. I only needed the proof of his association, and the laptop gave me that. All it took was putting it together in a file, and with an anonymous email, he was finished."

"She's gonna lose that pension."

"The business isn't all Syndicate," she shrugged.

"Make sure you get your cut from those accounts," I warned, "Your partner has a history of ignoring contracts." Lacey frowned, but whether it was me or my ex at fault I did not know.

"That's a nice piece," I nodded, "But they haven't made it for years." She was distant for a moment.

"It's how I got out," she shrugged, and I wished to know that story, aware it would never be told. I nodded.

"So now what?" There was maybe another tear threatening? "What did she say on the phone Saturday night?" Lacey blinked, honestly surprised.

"She wanted to kill you." I laughed.

"Ten years. She cheated. Helped manufacture what almost got me sent to prison. Got fat protecting what stole people's innocence... what twisted your life... And I don't get to enjoy a moment of wonder?" I shook my head, "Remember that whenever you're dealing with her." I closed my eyes, "And thank you for...sharing yourself." I waited.

"It's okay, my Boy Scout," I looked. The gun was no longer in evidence, "But I'm afraid I do have to quit."

"I'm not accepting your resignation," I tried to smile, "Call it a sabbatical."

"We are taking it all," she pointed out. I laughed.

"I only want what I earn," I leaned back, putting my arms over my head, keeping my hands in plain sight. "How did you talk her out of killing me?"

"I told her I'd wanted to do it... That I initiated it," she blushed prettily, "That I enjoyed it."

"That's good to know."

"You already knew," she scolded, and I shrugged.

"I hoped." I looked at the clock. I was a little surprised we still had not heard from the police. "One for the road, then?"

"Tempting, but no. Once IA is done, why don't you go over to that dive bar and have a drink to celebrate getting your name back. even if you didn't get rich doing it?" I nodded.

"Even if it's not with the person I was imagining getting on with life?" She stepped forward, but stopped herself. Offered a scolding glance..

"I thought it was just a sabbatical," she wagged a finger at me, then smiled, "Be safe, Boy Scout." And then she was gone. I closed the shop up after placing a call to the department on Lacey's... on the front desk phone. And followed her advice, crossing the street to Lou's even before IA arrived.

It was really a dive bar, Lacey was right, but they served breakfast, so it could be open in the morning. I took a booth at the back with a view of the front, ordered the Denver omelet, and waited.

The interview was loss antagonistic then I had expected. Marie Lynd had only been on the force for a year when I started, and we had worked cases together. She went over the basics, and I offered what I knew... that Cane was worried his wife was cheating and had strong armed me into helping him investigate that. I let her know he had used his office to fuck up my businesses, because that meant others in the office had gone along, and I hoped they would face some heat.

"Everyone wondered why you did not burn him when he fucked you over back then" she allowed. She kept trying not to look at the three empty high ball glasses she had found me with. I ignored it and went on sipping the orange juice that was still in the fourth glass. Every so often I saw Lou watching, hiding a smile.

"I never thought he had anything to do with it, until last week," I admitted. She seemed skeptical. "It took my secretary saying something about it," She asked after my secretary's particulars and I laughed.

"She said her name was Lacey, but I doubt that's it. I didn't check. I was glad someone had answered the ad."

"No address?" I shook my head. "Is she at the office now?" I shook my head again, "And she quit, so I'm not much help, sorry."

"Well, it may explain some of it anyway," Marie looked around, "Whoever sent us the bits that got us pulling strings and unraveling Cane's little empire went to some effort to make sure you were exonerated." I snorted.

"I wasn't convicted."

"No, just left under a perpetual cloud of suspicion." I did not react to that. "Cane's big mistake was he was a list maker. You know that... He had all of it. Hell, he had to have moved it from one hard drive to another because that laptop is only a couple years old. But it's all there. He was the one poaching the drugs, queering the evidence, warning the Syndicate. That was his nest egg and his bona fides to be their head of security."

"It wasn't me."

"We know that."

"But are you going to say that?" She shrugged.

"That was one of the stipulations." Intrigued, I looked at her, but she was not offering anything else. She had ordered a breakfast plate and insisted on paying the tab, which Lou was happy to accept. "You may want to watch the press briefing this afternoon," she allowed, standing up. "Be careful, for awhile, though, Abel, I'm satisfied you weren't the one who did this, but the Syndicate may think otherwise." I nodded, having already considered that.

"Yeah, it may be time to take a vacation. It's been... a decade," I deadpanned. I paused, detouring to the bar to thank Lou, which left Marie time to peruse her bill as she headed for the front. Too late I realized what she had done, and what she now could see printed out for her... Four orange juices, no screwdrivers or other liquor.

"That's a nice touch, Abel," she said across the mostly empty space. I shrugged.

"Trade secret, Lynd," I said, "Don't tell anyone else, all right?" She nodded, and maybe there was a hint of respect in her eyes once again. .

***OCTOBER

The new office is coming along nicely. I actually look out the window and enjoy the view. The same posters are hanging. And the same estate sale mismatched furniture in almost the same arrangement. There's a mismatched overstuffed leather couch, now, on the wall beside the door. And there's a second office, vacant, but when Tomlin is visiting it helps. There's an actual break room, too, with a full size fridge, and a gas stove.

Lacey's plan came off without a hitch. I got back the other business that had tried to fire us. The afternoon presser helped a lot.

In addition to mentioning specifically evidence that the investigation of me had been a misdirection by my partner, the IA spokesperson told the various parasites in the media in attendance that I had been interviewed and had been 'unable to provide any additional information, despite apparent efforts by Mr. Cane to use his office to libel his former partner and damage his business interests.' That was a much better lever than the weak memo Thomas had been offering.

By the end of the day, I had emails from the corporations we had targeted and several others. I was going to have to farm out some of the work, but it is always better to be too busy than not busy enough.

Cane was indicted in absentia within the month. His wife was in seclusion and asked for the media to respect her privacy, adding that she was horrified her husband had so violated her trust and that of the people and police department.' Not one but two of the city's handful of mafia bosses were arrested, along with more than a dozen lesser denizens of that world. Crime spiked, predictably. Defense attorneys were keeping the DA's office busy with claims their convicted clients should be retried or released outright.

I was far away by then. I locked up after returning to the office, added the retention bar that would keep anyone from getting in as easily as Thomas had, then went through the entire little place with the handy bug detector I found on Amazon years ago. Once I was sure I was well and truly alone, I stopped the loop recorder behind the Great Escape poster. Checking that my Glock was in easy reach, I pulled the bookshelf away from the wall. Set the magnetic ring I wear every day in just the right place on the Shawshank poster... which released the hinge, letting it open to reveal my fireproof safe. The finish around the safe is rough-- I had to be the one to put in in place-- but the poster hid that well enough.

Inside there was an old Panasonic ToughBook, a new MacBook Air, an iPad Pro still in the packaging, along with a bag with chargers and cables for each. I passed over the box of cryptically labeled SD and microSD cards, the electrostatic protective sleeve of hard drives, the stack of binders, and the Glock that matches the one I carry, as well as the stack of ready magazines and the bundles of twenty dollar bills. I did not unplug the iPad leaned against the right wall of the safe, leaving it charging and attached to the office internet system. Managing to spoof my laptop IP address so that Lacey or anyone else peeking through the ether in the office would not see the connection had been less than simple, but anything worth doing and all that...

You see, I spent Sunday deciphering the sites and user names and passwords on Thomas' laptop. But I also had a record of every site his phone had visited, and the passwords and usernames for those. He was not really more security conscious on his phone then he had been on the laptop, but the accounts that were most important to him he kept closer by. Which mean Lacey and my ex had only found the off shore accounts that he used long term. There may be more money in them, but not much more, and there had to be something left for them to believe it was enough.

No, I think Thomas' arrival in my office was because of me that morning. Because after midnight, when I was confident my ex partner was asleep, I got in, siphoned those accounts down to ten dollars apiece, and changed the passwords. The money then began a circuitous trip from bank to bank, divided up, brought back together, and divided again, with some left in a holding account including automated instructions for dispersal after another twenty four to seventy two hours. It went to Switzerland, and Cayman, and the Bahamas. It went to Chinese banks and British banks, and Russian banks. I verified there had been no tampering inside the office, then backed the data to the protected tough book before finally unplugging the iPad. It all went into my messenger bag, and sat while I took the posters down, adding the camera and control unite behind the Great Escape poster to the bag before I carefully removed the safe, which was heavier than I remember when putting it in. I put a couple shelves into the space, haphazard as fuck, along with the bottle of Maker's Mark and the used tumblers. Hung the dogs playing poker velvet print over the hole, and after making sure I had everything of importance, I carried it out to the truck and headed south, away from the loft.

Marie called my new cell-- same number, new phone, yet something else to thank Thomas for pushing me into doing-- a week later. By then the first boss had been arrested. My office had been broken into, the place had been tossed.

"Your little office bar will need some work," she deadpanned. "And the secretary's computer was destroyed, but based on the smoke something caught fire before they left it." She was smart enough to know she was telling me my failsafe on Lacey's computer had prevented IA or anyone else from getting anything off of the remaining drive. "It was a little weird that you had power to the liquor cabinet." I filed that away for next time, "And the landlord was a little miffed you did not have an alarm system." We both laughed at that, I thanked her, and rang off.

She called back less than an hour later.

"You still kicking, Abel?"

"Why, have you found Cane floating in the kiddy pool?" There was much speculation as to what had happened to him. No one knew. I did not want to know.

"Not yet, anyway," she resisted admonishing me, I could tell, for joking about it, "You really are away, aren't you?"

"I told you, it was time for my once a decade vacation."

"Well, then, you're lucky, because someone burned your Loft to the ground."

"Wow," I filed that away for the next time I came up against someone in the Syndicate wanting something."

"You don't seem too worried."

"Lynd, it was where I lay my head, nothing more than that... TV was a clearance item from Best Buy, I had no photos, no computer, no books or music or movies... Sadly I don't even have a dog."

"Well, I might consider addressing that last item," she cautioned, "It's kind of crazy here right now." I could empathize but that was no longer my life or concern. Except that it meant warning my various clients of the increased general risk. I began to type a message to Dwayne on my cell even before signing off with Lynd.