Stuff to Spy For

by Don Bruns

  “Wish me luck.” James picked up a ladder that had been carelessly left leaning against a wall. He lifted it over his shoulder and slowly walked toward Conroy’s office.

  Feng watched. His eyes were glued to James’s stride. When my roommate arrived at the door, he set the ladder down and leaned into the office. Within twenty seconds Conroy stormed out. He stood outside and scanned the computer room. Once again his eyes rested on me, and with a swagger he started his walk.

  I could have walked away. I could have run for cover. But my best friend was putting himself on the line. For the possibility of seeing a steamy sex scene, yes, but it was what we were hired to do. I stood my ground. I had to stall this guy. Had to give James enough time to pick up the last three hours of conversation and action. I was dripping with sweat, but I stood my ground.

  “Moore.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I told you this was to be taken care of. In short order.”

  “You told me that three hours ago, sir.”

  He frowned, and shot me a sideways glance. “This is the second time someone—” he waved his hand toward his office, “someone has interrupted my work. Do you understand this?”

  “I do.”

  “When I’m in my office, work around me.”

  “Sir?”

  “Do something else. When I’m out of the office, get Feng. I’ll give you and your partner permission to work in the office. You’re the only ones. Got it? And Feng will be there the entire time. Understood?”

  We had access to the office any time he was out of it? Feng had no idea what we were doing. Of course, he didn’t trust us. He’d proven that by putting the GPS under our car. But all we had to do was work on that smoke detector once or twice, take the card out, put it back, and take it out, and my job was finished. Sandy Conroy was giving us carte blanche?

  “Understood.”

  “Then that’s that.” He brushed his slightly unruly black hair off his forehead, straightened his tie, and took another look around the room. “This will work out much better. Just make sure that Feng is in the office.”

  “No problem.”

  “I have a lot of important papers in that office. Not to mention documents and files on the computer.”

  “I can imagine.”

  He looked at me through squinted eyes. “No, I doubt that you can. Anyway, thank you for getting me the smoke detector. We’d be up a creek if that office burned down.”

  The guy was thanking me for setting him up. This spy business was just getting stranger and stranger.

  “And tonight, can you park your car at Sarah’s?”

  James would probably be upset that we didn’t have a smoke detector at Sarah’s condo too. “No problem.”

  “Okay then.” He turned and walked toward the reception area and I watched James walk out of the office, ladder under his arm. I hadn’t noticed his T-shirt before.

  Live every day

  like it was your last

  Someday you’ll be right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  James pulled out of Sarah’s parking lot, and I watched my cheap car fade in the distance as he gunned the engine. We inched ahead. What a poor excuse for a vehicle. “You got Feng’s GPS on the screen?”

  I did. He was parked back at Chen’s laundry. “He’s safe and sound.”

  “Then let’s watch a little of this.” James pulled the card out of his T-shirt pocket and handed it to me.

  Sliding it into my laptop, I punched a couple of keys and a grainy screen opened. The first word I made out was Warning. They’d listed a number of rules and regulations regarding the recording device. I was pretty sure that we’d broken most of them. After you break one rule, like planting the GPS unit under Feng’s car, then they get easier to break. Actually, I prefer to think we just ignored them. It sounds a little better than breaking the rules. Not much, but a little.

  “What do you see?”

  “James, if there is anything between Sarah and Conroy it won’t happen till the end of the card’s play time. Probably a couple, three hours from now.”

  “Can you fast forward it?”

  “No.”

  Again the screen went fuzzy and I could hear the door open. As it closed, a head came into view. Dark hair breezed by and the picture cleared up. Sandy Conroy sat down at his desk and pulled out the keyboard mounted underneath. He punched at six or seven keys and stared at his computer screen.

  “What’s he watching?”

  “I can’t see. But I watched him turn on the computer. Honest to God. I just watched him turn on his computer.”

  “There’s some excitement you don’t get everyday. Settle down, pard.”

  “James, do you realize what just happened?”

  “You’re losing it, Skip.”

  “Did I tell you what I heard Feng and the guy with scuffed shoes talking about in the parking lot when I was under his Honda installing the GPS?”

  He thought for a moment. “Codes. Getting codes. Installing using codes. Something like, ‘you can’t install a program without a code.’ ”

  I was surprised. He’d paid some attention.

  “You said it didn’t make any sense.”

  “Didn’t. Still doesn’t. But I just cracked a code.”

  “You what?”

  “How do you get into a computer?”

  James yelled out the window and flipped his middle finger at a bright yellow Mustang that cut him off. I felt certain he’d chase it if he thought the truck could get anywhere near up to speed. After glaring through the windshield for several seconds he glanced at me.

  “You turn it on, Skip. Don’t play mind games with me.”

  As if he didn’t with me

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Then what do you do, James? After you turn it on.”

  “Punch in some lame password like Beerville.” James had come up with it. I wouldn’t take credit for that.

  “Won’t open unless you punch in that password?” He didn’t understand what I’d just seen.

  “You know it won’t.”

  “I just watched Sandy Conroy punch in his password.”

  “So?”

  “From above the computer. From the smoke detector camera, James. The one we had installed.”

  “Yeah? So what?” He was irritated.

  “James, I can zoom in and steal his password—his code.”

  “Oooh. Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “You saw the code?” He was silent for a moment. “That’s pretty impressive. But do we need to do that?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s how easy it is.”

  “You just watched him, dude. You actually saw every key?”

  “I did. If I replay it a couple of times, I could walk in and open everything in his files.”

  “So we know his code. And there’s got to be some heavy stuff on that computer.”

  “You’d think.”

  “Mmmm. So what are you thinking?” No longer irritated. A little bit of intrigue and James was engaged.

  I hadn’t been thinking much of anything, but it just kind of spilled out. It made sense in a perverse way. “So I’m thinking that Feng was talking about installing programs using a code and this other guy told him that it was up to Feng to get it done. They were counting on him. I mean, maybe he’s setting up a spy thing at work.”

  James shook his head. “Come on, pally, what are the chances that he’d be doing the same thing we’re doing?”

  “James,” I shot him my pity look, “you’re the one who found the GPS unit under the truck. We’re pretty sure that Feng attached it that night in our parking lot. And at the same time we were bugging Feng’s wheels. What are the chances?”

  “There’s that.”

  “Could this have anything to do with Ralph Walters being killed?” I don’t know why I said it, but it just seemed to fit.

  He was silent for a moment. “You saw Feng messing
around with Carol Conroy’s Lexus.”

  “I’d swear it was him.”

  “When he left in a gray Honda, someone else was driving. Could have been the guy in the scuffed shoes.”

  “Could have been.”

  “Then Feng starts following us in a gray Honda. By now he knows that you’re dating Sarah. He knows you had drinks with Conroy’s wife, and he knows you’re setting up a security system for Synco Systems. He also knows we’re on to him. By now he’s figured we took the GPS off our truck and put it on the UPS truck.”

  That’s what we knew. And all combined, it meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just wanted the money. Damn, I wanted the money. And I didn’t want anything to come between me and the money.

  “And you think this all leads back to Ralph Walters’s murder?”

  My brain was screaming. “James, it doesn’t really matter.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

  “I’m—we’re getting paid for three things. Installation of the system. Me pretending to date Sarah. And bugging offices for Mrs. Conroy. I guess I’m saying who cares if Feng is a counterspy?”

  “You know you just said something, amigo. Something that triggered a brainwave.”

  “What?”

  James wheeled the truck into our parking lot, bumping the sidewalk with his front tires. “We’re installing a system.”

  “We are.”

  “So are they.”

  “They?”

  “Synco Systems. We’re installing a system, with codes, passwords, and who knows what, so Synco Systems will be safe—while Synco Systems is building a security system for the Department of Defense, so they’ll be safe, which will have codes, passwords, and who knows what.”

  “Yeah? So what?”

  “I wish I knew. Maybe Ralph Walters knew what it meant. Codes, passwords, programs. Maybe Carol Conroy is afraid she knows too much. She thinks someone is out to kill her, Skip. That’s why we’ve got the side job.”

  The loud, cackling laugh startled us both, and I stared at the screen. Sandy Conroy was staring intently at his computer screen, laughing at the top of his voice. I wish I could have seen what he was looking at. I needed a good laugh.

  “Man, I hate to say this.”

  “What?”

  “I feel really dumb mentioning this.”

  “James, what are you talking about?”

  He hesitated, cranking the windows of the box truck, letting air into the vehicle. “Skip, promise me you won’t tell anyone I said this.”

  I could do this. Most of the things James said, I would have been embarrassed to mention.

  “I think we should talk to Em about this.”

  “What? You want to talk to Em?”

  “She’s usually pretty levelheaded about these things.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”

  “Come on, you know most of our attitude toward each other is just for show. I mean, she knows what’s going on, including your pretend tryst with Sarah. I’m sure she’ll have some good ideas. Just don’t tell her this was my idea.”

  I seriously don’t think Em likes James. But it didn’t make a lot of difference. “James, I don’t want to go any further with this. I’ve got three paychecks coming, and if I screw around with any of them—”

  “Yeah.” Sandy Conroy picked up his phone. It took us both by surprise. There he was, down below, barking into his phone. It looked like he was doodling on a pad of paper as he talked, and it felt like we were watching one of those really bad movies that come on at three in the morning. The lighting was harsh, the sound was scratchy, and the acting was cheesy.

  “You come down to the office in about an hour. We’ll talk.”

  Silence for thirty seconds. This thing needed fast forward.

  “Look, you little bitch, there’s a lot going on you don’t understand. When the time is right, it’s right. You don’t say a word about my wife or what’s been going on between the two of us. Do you understand? Sarah, I swear I will destroy you if you mention one word of this relationship to anyone. Man up, little girl. It will be over soon enough. I want to see you in one hour, do you understand? In my office. In the meantime, stay in your office, and pull yourself together. I told you things would be fine once we finish this project.”

  James was staring at the screen. I was staring at James. He still hadn’t shut the engine off, and with the cost of gas it was getting rather expensive.

  “Show a little maturity. I’ll come over tonight.”

  I felt sleazy. This was a private matter and here we were like Peeping Toms. On top of that, I was being paid.

  “It’s like a bad movie, Skip.”

  Everything was quiet for a moment. I assumed Sarah was talking on the other end. Probably from her office.

  “And the worst thing is, I don’t know any of the quotes.”

  Conroy was rubbing his forehead, and I actually felt sorry for the guy. He was juggling his girlfriend, the former escort; his wife; his business; and dealing with the death of his vice president.

  “I’ll tell your friend, Skip, to park his car at your place tonight. Just in case.” A pause. “One hour. You see me. In my office.”

  He’d mentioned my name. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

  James turned off the engine, and nodded toward the computer. “We should probably leave it on and see what else transpires.”

  “Probably should.” I was hoping I wasn’t the topic of conversation again.

  “So, why don’t you just turn that card over to Mrs. Conroy tomorrow, pardner? That would be the thing to do.”

  “Well now, I can’t very well do that, can I?” She’d know my situation and cut me off. Damn. James knew it and I knew it. We were screwed.

  “Amigo, we’re in a world of shit.”

  I had to agree with him. Greed can get you into a whole lot of trouble.

  “Skip, let’s talk to your girlfriend. As negative as she can be, she may have some very positive suggestions.”

  All I could think about was how she’d roll her eyes, sigh, and let me know that she was tired of my immature attitude, tired of the situations I managed to get myself into, and tired of my best friend James. Oh well.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I called her when I walked in the door. The laptop continued to run on the kitchen table. Every once in a while I heard Sandy Conroy grunt, chuckle, laugh, or cough. I couldn’t wait to see what the conference between Sandy and Sarah was about.

  “Skip?”

  “Em. Can we meet at Ester’s?” Quick and formal.

  “Ummm, yeah. You’re making this sound like a business meeting rather than a date.”

  “Ummm. Yeah. It sort of is.”

  “Doesn’t sound good.”

  “No. No. No. It’s all good. I just need to run this idea by you.” I glanced at James and he nodded in affirmative.

  “Okay. I’ll be there. What time?”

  The movie probably had another twenty minutes to run. “Half an hour.”

  “You’re not in more trouble, are you?”

  “Me?”

  She didn’t laugh.

  I went back to our small kitchen table and stared at the computer screen. Nothing was happening, but Sandy Conroy’s clacking at his computer and occasional noisy outbursts kept the camera and microphone activated. The phone rang, and I looked around for a second. We don’t have a phone, just our cells.

  “Yeah.”

  Conroy waited a minute for the person on the other end.

  “All right, you tell Jason Riley that we go into production in three weeks. Three weeks. And we need the codes by then. Hell, you tell him we need them before that. Some story about how we have to program in some stuff to the security system. We weren’t aware we needed them this soon, but since Tony Quatman isn’t around any more yada yada yada.”

  More silence.

  “Look, I don’t care what you tell him. You’re good at making things u
p. Just get the codes.” He shook his head back and forth and then slapped his desk with an open hand. The loud slap bounced off the cheap sound system in the computer. “I wish Ralph was handling it too, damn it. It worked a lot better that way. But he’s not with us anymore if you remember.” The person on the other end must have tried to abdicate some responsibility. I could almost see Conroy roll his eyes in disgust. “You’re in charge of it now. Do you understand? It’s in your hands.” The deliberation was taking entirely too much time and we didn’t have a lot of time.

  Watching someone on the phone when they don’t know you’re watching, gives you a whole new understanding of how they react to situations. Conroy doodled on a pad, tapped his foot, kept looking around the room like he thought someone was hiding somewhere. The man was obviously very uncomfortable with the conversation. I checked my watch. Whoever was on the other end was taking a long time to make his case. Minutes went by and I checked my watch again. Finally Conroy spoke.

  “Look, the thing with Ralph is taking care of itself. There’s nothing else they can prove. It’s going to be ruled a suicide.” He stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders. “No, I don’t care what his wife thinks. And we know that Tony, Julia, and her husband won’t be back anytime soon to discuss the matter with anyone. Understand this. It’s up to you. You’ve got to get it done. I told you. Everyone agrees that it’s in your hands.”

  I’d heard the man with the scuffed shoes say that to Feng. It’s in your hands. What did it mean?

  “I’ll take care of Carol.” Again with the doodling, the stretching, “It doesn’t matter what that means. I said I’ll take care of Carol, okay?”

  This was taking far too long. Finally James and I watched Conroy hang up the phone, put his head back, and close his eyes. It was almost as if we were afraid to speak because he’d hear us and realize we were eavesdropping.

  Quietly James said, “Did you get any of that?”

  “Understand it? No.”

  “Who was he talking to?” It could have been anyone.

  “Where did Tony and Julia go? They won’t be back any time soon? What does that mean?”

  “And, dude, all that stuff about the codes. Who is Jason Riley?”