Deception

"All this cloak and dagger stuff is fun," she said. We discussed the legal definitions I'd been given so she knew we were using the information she was giving us for a prosecution. It was good to know she was eager to help. I couldn't help noticing how attractive she looked that morning. I had finished my two cups of coffee and my donut so I was in an outstanding mood.

"Manny, Lesley and I are in awe of your knowledge of our systems. Aren't I right Lesley?"

"She's right," said my partner. "At least that's what she tells me all the time."

Manny chuckled. She had cute dimples when she laughed.

"You guys are fucking with me, aren't you?"

I jumped in first. "You seem to explain things that are way clearer than Pete. And you're better looking."

"OK. Enough of that. So let me explain So our servers are connected to the internet, and we do share information with federal task forces, so we probably meet both conditions," Manny told Lesley and me. We had sat down with her earlier and studied the statutory definitions before she reached those conclusions. That was good, because I was getting comfortable that we met the definition of a "protected computer."

The tougher hurdle was whether DaVanna and Maureen had authorized access to the internal network to steal the data. I was certain they did, but Manny pointed out something obvious to her. They had the right to view the traffic cam video, but they didn't have the right to delete the information from the primary server.

"Look," said Manny. She pointed to a piece of paper she was holding. "Both DaVanna and Maureen signed a 'Terms of Use' agreement with the City that specifically prohibited the deletion of information from the network without permission of the Information Technology Department. I'm the head of the Technology Department and I'm certain I didn't give them permission to do this. I'm sure they never read the agreement but they both signed it. I double checked just to make sure, and they never requested permission to delete that particular video from the network. I was able to determine that they viewed the video on March 15, and that it was removed from the network on March 16."

I kissed Manny on the cheek. "You made my case. I love you."

"It might be a bit early for a declaration of love but I'm glad I was able to help."

Just one question lingered. "DaVanna and Maureen needed help to delete that video. Do you have any idea who that might be?"

Manny thought for a moment. "Without reviewing the records, I'd guess there's maybe a dozen people that would have authorization to delete a file off the network."

"Would Pete be on that list?" I asked, verbalizing a hunch I had.

"Yes, of course he would. But so would I."

Then she chuckled. "Of course you don't suspect me . . . do you?"

"Everyone's a suspect," I answered, giving her cold comfort. She giggled.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Of course Manny. You don't seem like DaVanna's type."

I got a dazzling smile from her. "Are you?"

"Your type?"

"Uh huh."

"You like crazy?" I asked.

"OK, I have to break it up," Lesley finally said, growing impatient after our flirting. "You guys can get a room. But first can we finish our discussion?"

"Fine, fine," I answered, though filing away Manny as a possible future date. "We need to put together a convincing file of documents. Can you give me copies of those "Terms of Use" agreements? I'll work with you on an affidavit, which will include the list of people with access to the network. Does that work for you?"

"It does."

"I owe you dinner," I offered sincerely.

"Nicky's, and when?" she asked. She was ready for that question.

"Well, let me get this together and over to the FBI. My guess is after word goes out of what I've done I'll have a lot of free time on my hands."

"Now it's my turn to voice some concern here. I know I'm doing my job here, but ratting out two big names in Cincinnati politics is going to cause a mushroom cloud over city government. I'm a government employee. I'm worried. I've got a six year old kid and I'm paying alimony to my ex."

Manny was well justified in her fears. She'd be a pariah in the organization. But what was I to do? I needed this information and she was the head of the department.

"I'll do the best I can to provide cover for you. Look, my ass is on the line as well as Lesley's . . ."

"No shit," Lesley interjected.

"Anyway, I think we're in good shape to get a conviction. If we win there's nothing to worry about. The Police Department will be glad to be rid of DaVanna and her corrupt little enterprise. And they'll clean house in the Prosecuting Attorney's office. We're the whistleblowers and there's nothing they can do to us."

"But if we lose?" Manny asked.

"If we lose we are . . ." I said and then stopped.

"Fucked," said Lesley, completing my sentence.

"Fucked is right," I confirmed.

"That's what I thought," sighed my computer maven. "That's what I thought."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to bring in the Feds?" Lesley asked me. We were on the way back to the station after Manny's good news.

"I don't see as if I have any other option."

"You know the people in the department, especially Billie, are going to be super pissed when they find out you called them."

"I know. They should understand that if I went through channels that DaVanna would squash the investigation."

"They should understand, but they won't," she accurately concluded. "Especially when they take the case away from our department. You know they will."

"They'll see it as me inviting the devil into our kitchen."

"No doubt."

"You're ready for that?" I asked.

Lesley wrinkled her brow. "Can you ever get ready for a car crash? Even if I know it's going to happen can I still be prepared? Fuck no. I'm not ready for that, but I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not really," I answered.

"Then if we sink, we're drowning together partner."

* * *

"Banks speaking." His voice was deep and authoritative. I liked that.

"Agent Banks. It's Max Pemberton. Saul Groesbeck said he'd call you to tell you I'd be calling."

"Yeah. I heard from him yesterday. How does that old fucker look?"

"So you must have been on a first name basis."

"Saul and I? We go back more than twenty years. We cooperated on a number of projects over the years. I was at his retirement party."

"So dogs and cats can live together," I concluded.

"Not true," he answered. "Saul and I used to fight like brothers."

"Well, the old fucker is looking good. I saw him recently. Just got back from a monthlong fishing trip in Idaho and is tan and fit."

"Sounds like him," said Banks. "Can he still hold his whiskey?"

"Six shots while I told him the story."

"Max, it's a six short story. Saul filled me in."

"Really?"

"I think so. From what he's described. If you have the documentation to back up that story I can sell it upstairs."

"I've got the goods," I assured him.

"Excellent. Hang tight for a few weeks. It's take me a while to put the whole story together."

We talked about the logistics of getting him the information and the timing. It was quick and businesslike. And most of all, it was confidence inspiring.

"So Max, that's about it from my end."

"You call me. You know I'm going to be sitting on pins and needles until you do. Call me if you need anything."

"I will Max. Just go back to your routine duties. This isn't going to get out of my section. If there's a leak, it'll be on your side."

Famous last words.

"Call me," I reiterated. It was going to be sleepless nights until he did.

* * *

I had literally cast my fate to the wind. I was in the hands of Special Agent Carl Banks, a man that I met for the first time two weeks ago. He told me he'd call me if he needed me. Either I had done a bang up job of documenting the case or he'd thrown it in the dust bin. I didn't know which and the suspense was killing me. Lesley and I hadn't breathed a word of this to anybody, as news of the FBI taking away one of our cases would have spread like wildfire through our office. Nothing beat the efficiency of the police grapevine.

The other shoe dropped at the end of my shift. I was looking forward to picking up a couple pints and spending a quiet evening in my room. Instead I heard Lieutenant Odette bellow out of her office, "Max, get the fuck into my office right now!"

I guess Banks decided to take the case.

A handful of officers within earshot stopped what they were doing and watched me walk into a hurricane. I stepped into her office, leaving the door open, hoping that would tamp down her anger if our conversation was public. I was wrong.

"You shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say."

She slammed her desk drawer shut.

"I just got off the phone with Special Agent Carl Banks of the FBI, but you probably know that because you contacted him without, and I repeat, without my permission. Now he's telling me he's taking jurisdiction over an apparent cybercrime that you were supposed to be no longer involved with. Do you remember me taking you off that case?"

I was about to answer yes, but she beat me to the punch.

"Don't talk. I know the answer. Am I spitting blood? Because right now I feel I am. Max, you did not trust me with the information you gave to a total stranger. You are an insubordinate piece of shit."

"I'm sorry . . ." I started.

"Not a fucking word! The FBI is coming tomorrow to take our files on the case. I have the Chief already crawling up my ass because I couldn't tell him what was going on because I didn't know. You made me embarrass myself in front of the Chief."

She glared at me as if I hadn't gotten the message.

"Now you can apologize." She sat down and folded her hands on the desk.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant Odette. I hope you understand what I did and why."

"Shut the door Pemberton."

I got up and shut the door.

Her expression softened and I was puzzled. She spoke in a calm voice.

"Max, the dressing down was for show. You had to be reamed out to maintain discipline. I can't have everyone out there doing anything they want. But I completely understand. DaVanna Caruso advises the Police Commission, and it would be awkward, to say the least, to advance a case against her. She's basically one of my bosses. You solved that dilemma by handing it off to an agency where DaVanna has no sway. And I understand from Banks that the case is pretty tight, is that right?"

I relaxed and sat down. Thank God she figured it out for herself.

"That's right. We assembled all the documentation to support the charges. I'm pretty sure Banks double checked my conclusions before calling you."

"That's what he said."

"DaVanna's going down, isn't she?"

Billie gave me the thumbs down. "She's fuck city."

* * *

It was good that Billie was on my side. There was still going to be heat from above until charges were filed. I decided to celebrate, and what better way to celebrate than meeting for drinks at the Landing Point with a few of my friends. In this case it was Lesley, and her new companion Alessandra. It was late afternoon so the place was practically empty. I waited at the bar, and knocked back a Jameson's and shared a bit of gossip with Kris.

"I heard about the DaVanna thing," said Kris. "It has your fingerprints all over it but word has it that the case is in the hands of the FBI."

Kris was always well informed. "I may have had a thing or two to do with that."

"From what I heard, it was a lot more than that."

"Who's talking to you?" I asked. She knew more than she should have.

"A girl never reveals her secrets, you know that Max."

"Speaking of secrets, what's going on between Lesley and Alessandra? I'm getting the bare minimum from Lesley."

Of course Kris knew the scoop. "I'll let them tell you when they show up."

"You're holding out on me as well?"

"It's not for me to tell."

"Fine, but be that way. I won't tell you next time I have a secret," I said mocking her.

She put me in my place. "Max, you're always the last to find out so you don't have any secrets."

So true.

I heard the front door squeak, and then Lesley came in, followed by Alessandra. They were both a sight, all dressed up. Lesley had her hair down, light blonde to her shoulders. She always wore it up at work so it was refreshing to see her, literally, with her hair down. For God's sake she was wearing a dress. I was so used to seeing her in jeans. She was wearing a floral wrap dress that left a good part of her breasts exposed. It was a few inches above the knee. She looked terrific and was glowing. The glow wasn't there before and I could guess the reason.

The reason followed her in. I had only seen her in clothes that looked like she stole them from a homeless person with no make-up. Even then, she was beautiful. She was taller and more angular than DaVanna, but had the same chestnut brown hair and mocha complexion. She too was wearing a pale green dress that matched her eyes. It was appropriate for a cocktail party, and accentuated her long legs. It looked stunning on her.

"Kris was about to tell me something I don't know," I said to Lesley.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't have any idea what she might be talking about."

Alessandra came behind Lesley and put her hands on Lesley's waist. Lesley didn't miss a beat when she felt her girlfriend's touch. "Maybe I do."

"You make a cute couple."

Alessandra leaned over Lesley's back and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Lesley's the cute one," said Alessandra, correcting me.

I could have sworn I heard Lesley purr when Alessandra kissed her. It was weird (and good) to see my partner in a public display of affection with her new girlfriend. She didn't seem to be a bit self-conscious.

"Alessandra's pretty, not cute," Lesley offered, trying to pay a compliment.

"What? You don't think I'm cute?" Alessandra asked, mocking disgust.

"You know what I mean," said Lesley.

Lesley turned to face her lover. They kissed briefly on the lips.

"Message received," said Alessandra to Lesley. Then she went back to me.

"Big things with DaVanna, huh?" We hadn't talked since the news broke on DaVanna's arrest.

"She hasn't been arrested yet," I said to correct her.

"I know, but it sounds like it's for certain."

"Nothing's for certain, Alessandra," I cautioned her, and being mindful of jinxing us.

"Of course I'm being optimistic."

"No love lost between you and sis then?"

"There hasn't been any love between us for years. Ever since DaVanna left law for politics she's turned into a self-centered piece of you know what. There's no love to lose Max."

It was sad to hear one sister talk about the other sister that way, but manipulating Alessandra to commit robbery was about as low as you could go. I bore no ill will to the younger sister. DaVanna was a master manipulator, and Alessandra was no criminal.

"I hear you Alessandra and I can see why. But I see you've found love with my partner."

"You mean this one?" She kissed Lesley on the cheek. "I think I have."

"Remember I'm paid to protect her," I reminded her.

She laughed. "I'm not afraid of you Max."

"Actually, you kind of scare me," I admitted. I saw the prison tattoos on her arms. She went through some hard times and lived a hard life.

"You don't want to try me," she warned me, though nicely.

"Trust me, I won't," I assured her. In spite of my recent KO of that punk teenager, my boxing was rusty.

"Enough of the posturing," Lesley said, impatient. "We came here to drink with Max Pemberton. We are missing drinks."

"Let's correct that right now, shall we?"

Kris saw me wave and came over for our drink order. Lesley got the same foo-foo drink as Alessandra. We usually drank whiskey together. I got another Jameson's.

Lesley and Alessandra were sitting next to each other in our booth, and they were getting quite cozy.

"How long has it been, two weeks?"

Alessandra showed me her dry sense of humor. "Fifteen days, two hours, and about twenty minutes, but who's counting?"

"So when's the move in date?" I joked. "Isn't it the second date when you bring the U-Haul?"

"I living with her," said Lesley.

"You're shitting me."

I thought I was joking.

"I'm almost ashamed to say it, but it was after the second date."

Alessandra nodded her head. "It was, Max. Your partner's wonderful!"

It was surprising news, but not shocking. Alessandra was a good match for Lesley, but one thing puzzled me.

"I agree. But Lesley, after giving me such a hard time about living at the Royal Palms? Alessandra's house is no better than my motel room. It's a rickety house where every horizontal surface is cluttered with Alessandra's cookware."

"I've straightened the place up," Lesley said, defending herself.

"And I cook for you," said Alessandra.

"Max, she's a wonderful cook," Lesley gushed.

"That's a bulletin," I said. It was me that hooked Alessandra up with Nicky to be her new chef. I know the goods when I taste them.

"Well, I like being spoiled with Belgium waffles and strawberries with whipped cream for breakfast and beef bourguignon for dinner," said Lesley, continuing her defense.

"You're hurting me Lesley." My dinners were often ramen in a Styrofoam cup (just add hot water). She was getting fed by a drop dead gorgeous woman. I was jealous.

It was mostly small talk after that. Lesley's decorating prowess. Alessandra's baking. It was good to not talk about or think about DaVanna. We enjoyed each other's company until about ten, when the girls said they both had to get up early in the morning. I did too, but it didn't stop me from continuing to drink. Of course, I'm sure they were going back to Alessandra's house to have sex. They couldn't keep their hands off each other while they were with me.

When they left I was by myself. The bar was practically empty, as was the parking lot. At that hour there were only a few cars scattered on a narrow strip of asphalt running the length of the building. My trusty Civic was parked in a "No Parking " zone that I commandeered as my reserved parking space. It was freezing cold in my car and my mind went to Lesley and Alessandra as I waited for the heater to warm me up. It did feel right for them to be together, but I couldn't help feel a pang of jealousy. Was I going to be the last person on the planet without someone? I used that moment of self-pity as my excuse to go to the liquor store on my way back to the Royal Palms.

I pulled into the empty parking lot of the liquor store, hoping to see that Nigel was still there, and getting my late evening's entertainment.

Nigel was hanging out in the back, slapping the side of an old school tube TV that was sitting on the counter.

He looked at it and beamed. "Found this in the storage room. Tapped into the data line for this store and voila." He pointed to the screen. It was clearly the Reds game, and it was the top of the ninth. It was a scoreless game and both starting pitchers were throwing shutouts. I cozied up to the TV.

"Good job Nigel. This is true customer service."

"I've become attached to your American baseball. I like cricket, and the sports are related. Though your team isn't particularly good, is it?"

The Reds were in last place but showing signs of life, and it was still early in the season.

"Give them some time," I said in an encouraging tone. This year they had a combination of younger and older players that was fun to watch.

We watched as the Phillies went down in order in the top of the ninth. Our closer, Aroldis Chapman, was throwing 100 m.p.h fastballs, and made quick work of them. The meat of the Reds' order was up in the bottom half. Nigel took a nip from a whiskey bottle he kept under the counter and offered me a hit. I was already a bit lit and turned him down.