Stuff to Spy For

by Don Bruns

  “Sir—”

  “Moore, as I pointed out, we hired you for the quality and speed you could bring to this project. Right now I’d fire your ass. If you weren’t already into the project, I’d have you out on the street.” His eyes had narrowed and he was breathing heavily.

  I should have been petrified, but all that was running through my head was the fact that he didn’t know it was a camera. Obviously he didn’t have a clue. Not the first hint that he held a camera and microphone in his hand. I wanted to jump up and down. I wanted to shake his hand and hug Andy Wireman. I kept my emotions under control.

  “I’ve got a very important project that needs major security. I’ve got a timetable that is tighter than a rat’s ass. And I’m dealing with crap like this? It went off today, Moore. Screaming that intolerable shrill scream, and there wasn’t a fire. There was nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing.”

  With that he threw the detector against the far wall. It hit with a thud and fell to the floor. Just like the coffee mug Sarah threw against the other wall.

  “Mr. Moore, Mr. Wireman. Get this project under control. Get it done, and get the hell out of here. Do I make myself clear? Perfectly clear?”

  “You do.” I shouted it. “I’ll see to it. Andy and I will get it done in record time, and there will be no more screw-ups.”

  “Take that piece of crap with you.”

  I looked up again. Not so much at the ceiling, but just up, thanking God. Silently thanking God, over and over and over. I picked up the two halves of the detector, nonetheless for the wear, and exited the room. I was dizzy with excitement and could feel the blood pounding in my head. He’d asked me to take it with me. The evidence. I was convinced I would be walking out in handcuffs. Instead, I had the evidence in my hand. I wasn’t sure things could get any better.

  Wireman walked out and closed the door behind him. He gave me a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, Skip. When it went off, he blew up. I told him the truth, that it was an inferior piece of equipment, and he asked that we wire him a new one even though it was after hours. Of course, we did it. It was his idea to call you in tonight. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. Honestly.”

  “Andy, no problem.” I was elated. There were no problems in the world. “It was my mistake. Totally mine. I never, ever, should have put that detector in.”

  “Just out of curiosity—”

  “Yes?”

  “Where did you get that? It’s got some things in it I have never seen. Some card, and a tiny glass—”

  I interrupted. “The main thing is, Andy, I’m not going to install anything like that again without your approval. Got it?”

  He looked at the detector in my hand. “The insides of that thing are strange, Skip. Do you mind if I take it home and study it?”

  That didn’t sound like the plan I had in mind. “Andy, no more problems. Let’s just get this thing done, take our money, and go home. Is that okay with you?”

  He smiled. “Got it.”

  I walked through the building, out the door, into the parking lot, wanting to jump up high and kick my heels. Looking down at the smoke detector in my hand I saw the card, clipped tightly to the case. We could actually play it on the computer tonight and see and hear what happened today. We could listen to the recording from The Sound Max and analyze what Feng and Chen were talking about. I could get out the calculator and once again add up all the money that was mine once this project was completed. I could even dream about what I was going to spend that money on. I figured I’d better stop at Gas and Grocery and get a case of beer to celebrate.

  It was going to be a glorious night. We were back in the spy business.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  I called Em on the way home. I didn’t want to alarm her, but I thought she should know a little of what had transpired. After all, Carol Conroy seemed familiar with her and I was hoping to find out why.

  “The smoke detector went off?”

  “But no problem, Em. No one suspected a thing. It was amazing.”

  “Skip, you could have been discovered. I mean, that’s a felony isn’t it?”

  “I’m not a prosecutor, Em. Don’t know that much about the law. Anyway, it’s out of the office.”

  “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  I told her that James was passing along the transcript of the conversations Sandy Conroy had in his office. And I did mention that Carol Conroy asked if she was going to be at the apartment tonight.

  “Carol Conroy knows about me?”

  “Seemed to.”

  “How?”

  “It probably wouldn’t take much checking to see that you and I are seeing each other.”

  “So, does she know that the Sarah relationship is a sham?”

  “I don’t know. I was a little afraid to ask her.”

  Em was quiet. I could hear her thinking. Really. When she thinks, you can hear those wheels spinning. “See what James has to say and call me back tonight. I want to get his take on it.”

  “James?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  I about drove off the road. James and Em were starting to scare me. They both were seeking each other’s opinion. If I was a suspicious person, I’d almost wonder if they had something going on between them.

  Pulling into the apartment complex, I parked next to James’s truck. The Chevy continued to cough and sputter even after I’d turned off the key and I wondered how much a tune-up would cost.

  I opened the door and stepped inside. He was sitting on the sofa. “James. It’s all okay. Conroy had no idea that the smoke detector was a camera.” I laid the two halves of the malfunctioning smoke detector on the kitchen counter.

  “Skip—”

  “Hey, it went very well.” Turning to my roommate, I gave him thumbs up. “I mean, even Wireman had no idea. We skated on—” I heard the toilet flush in the bathroom and seconds later Carol Conroy walked out.

  “You had a camera in his office?”

  James looked at me and rolled his eyes.

  “Hey, Mrs. Conroy. I didn’t realize you’d still be here.”

  “Obviously.” She’d dressed down in jeans, jeweled sandals, and a frilly cotton top, but her attitude was still haughty and one of total control.

  “So you got the transcript?”

  “So you have pictures?” She shot back at me.

  “Um, Mrs. Conroy asked if she could stick around till you got back. I didn’t see any problem, so I agreed.” James shrugged his shoulders.

  “There was something you wanted to ask me?” I wanted to get off the camera conversation. My high had been brought back to earth in a hurry.

  “A smoke detector that doubles as a camera? You’ve been holding out on me, Mr. Moore.” She looked right at me, standing there by the evidence.

  “It … it malfunctioned. Doesn’t work properly. No film, just scratchy sound. That’s why I did the transcript.” The frown on her face told me she wasn’t buying it. Not 100 percent.

  “Mr. Moore, can we talk outside?”

  “We can. I have to tell you that James knows a lot about what’s been going on. He’s my partner and he’s helped with your project.”

  Carol Conroy ran her hand over her forehead as if in desperation, and slumped onto the couch next to James. I sat in the remaining chair.

  “My life is in danger.”

  James leaned toward her, touching her hand. She allowed it. I was surprised, but she left his hand on hers. “Mrs. Conroy, Skip already told me that you think someone’s after you. That’s a pretty heavy statement to make. What makes you think that someone would be out to kill you?”

  She shifted, still leaving his hand on hers. “I told Mr. Moore. The vice president of my father’s business was murdered. I’m certain of it. Ralph Walters was killed. I believe the man who developed the software that we are currently manufacturing, Tony Quatman, was killed. And I believe it’s possible that his secretary and her husband are either involved or dead as well.”
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  “Can you tell us why you believe this?”

  She was softening up. “No.”

  I stood up and went to the refrigerator. “Anyone want a beer?” I had a case in the car, but I wanted it cold. For some reason our refrigerator almost freezes the beer.

  “Mrs. Conroy,” James had removed the hand, “you’ve got to tell us why.”

  “I can’t. I don’t know why. It’s something to do with the project.”

  No one had said that they wanted a beer, so I pulled one out and popped the top. “Can you tell us what the project is?” Sarah had told me it had to do with the Department of Defense, but I wasn’t supposed to know that.

  “It’s a government contract. We’ve had them before. But this project, this one seems to be a little more special.”

  “If you don’t know exactly what it is, then why would someone want to kill you? I mean, if you don’t know anything?”

  “Because I know that Sandy is being very secretive about this specific job. Because I know that Ralph Walters found out something he wasn’t supposed to know, and the next day he was dead. Because my husband doesn’t trust me, just like I don’t trust him. And I believe that Tony Quatman found out that Synco Systems was going to do something illegal or unscrupulous with the software program, and he was eliminated.”

  “Mrs. Conroy, even if all those things are true, it’s tough to believe that someone is going to kill you.”

  “Oh, it’s not just someone.”

  “Who is it going to be?”

  “I know, you’re laughing at me.”

  I shook my head. “No. I promise you that we’re not laughing. I think we’re both a little concerned that you’re going out on a limb here.” I took a deep swallow of beer.

  “No limb. It’s going to be my husband or Feng.”

  “Really?” James sat back and cocked his head.

  “Really, James.” James? I was still Mr. Moore. James was now on a first name basis.

  “Because of the aforementioned reasons.”

  “Those. And the fact that he’s going to leave the company when this project is finished.”

  I knew that. And I’d told James. But I didn’t get the impression it was common news.

  “I think Ralph may have found out about that as well,” she said.

  “Carol,” James was trying out the familiar style, “even if he’s leaving—”

  “Boys, he is leaving. Let’s drop the charade, okay? I need your help. I’ve told you what I know. If you have any more information that you’re not sharing with me, please, give it to me. I understand that my case is weak, but I know what’s going to happen. And I want to stop it. I think that Sandler is planning on destroying my father’s company, I think that he’s going to find a way to kill me in the process, and I know that he’s going to take off with his little girlfriend, Sarah Crumbly.” She shot me a cold, hard glance. “Yes, Mr. Moore. I know that he’s seeing her. No more games. Either you’re with me or against me.”

  It had been a day of ups and downs. I didn’t know what to say. But leave it to my roommate.

  “Carol, we’re with you. No more games. We’ll give you everything we can get. Give us until tomorrow and we’ll lay out all that we’ve found.”

  She stood, obviously a little shaken, and walked out of the apartment. A moment later I heard her Lexus start.

  “It’s been a long day, pard.”

  “It’s going to be a long night, James. We’ve got three hours of video to watch from the smoke detector, and the audio from Chen’s laundry to listen to.”

  “Part of the job, Skip. We’re spies.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  We listened to the audio again. I knew that second voice, the voice of Chen, and I couldn’t figure out how that was possible. The voice just jumped out at me.

  “So you took dry cleaning in there one time?”

  “James, you know better. I’ve never taken dry cleaning anywhere. Other than a couple of sport coats, I haven’t got anything worth dry cleaning.”

  “Those jackets, amigo, maybe you should visit Chen’s.”

  I was working it over in my mind when I heard the knock at the door. I figured out who it was before I’d even answered it.

  “Guys, you got me involved in this, so I’d better know everything.” Em went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. No glass. She drank her Yuengling from the bottle.

  I told her what Carol Conroy knew. We shared the audio-tape with her, and she listened intently.

  “You’ve Googled this Chi Mak?”

  “It was on my list,” James said sheepishly. We weren’t exactly coming up with all the answers that Em was. He walked to our computer sitting on the wobbly stand next to the stool in the kitchen.

  “Where is Feng? Right now?” Em looked at her watch.

  I punched in the code on my laptop for his GPS. “Looks like he’s back at Synco Systems. Working late.”

  “And I’ll bet that Sandy Conroy is telling him about the smoke alarm incident.” She pressed her fingers together, staring into space.

  “You’re right.” I knew Mr. Conroy would tell his head of security about the smoke alarm. But I had the evidence. No one could prove a thing. The smoke detector was on our kitchen counter, the two pieces lying face down. I wondered if Sandy Conroy had rendered it inoperable when he threw it against the wall. “This would be the time to have a listening device in there. I’ll bet he and Conroy are talking right now.”

  James looked up from his screen. “This Mak guy was found guilty of espionage. The story is right here.” He read from the screen.

  Chi Mak was convicted of taking computer disks from Anaheim defense contractor Power Paragon, where he was lead engineer on a sensitive research project involving QED, a propulsion system for Navy warships, according to an FBI affidavit. He also e-mailed photos and reports about the QED system to his home computer. Authorities say Mak and his wife copied the information onto CDs and then delivered them to a relative, Tai Wang Mak, who encrypted the disks and then was scheduled to fly to Hong Kong. From there, Mak allegedly planned to travel to Guangzhou in China to meet a contact.

  “And during their conversation at the laundry, Chen is bragging on this guy.”

  “Em,” James kept scanning his screen, “this guy was stealing stuff for maybe twenty years before anyone figured him out.”

  “Great story.” I was watching Feng’s car, a blip on the computer screen. It was on the road, moving at a pretty good clip. “But what does it have to do with Synco Systems?”

  Em took a long pull on her bottle of beer. “This Chi Mak was stealing Defense Department secrets.”

  “Yeah. Big time.” James nodded emphatically.

  “Synco Systems is working on a huge project for the Defense Department.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Em, this Chi Mak was an engineer. He had access to all the information. We’re pretty sure that Synco Systems is making a system that will protect the Department of Defense from having anyone like Chi Mak hacking into their computers. They’re trying to stop people like Chi Mak.” The two stories were diametrically opposed. There was nothing that brought them together. “And Synco Systems has no information. They have no plans—no idea what the Defense Department is planning. Feng doesn’t have access to any information within the Defense Department. To my knowledge anyway. Chi Mak had the plans in his hands. He was even designing some of them. If you’re designing a propulsion system, it’s one thing. Then you have all the plans, and you have the capability of stealing those plans. If you are designing a security system to stop that theft, it’s an entirely different story.”

  James sipped on his beer. “We’re in Miami. Defense is, where? In Washington, D.C., right? They may as well be in different countries. Synco Systems has nothing. Just the software they’re designing, and that’s not going to be ready to go for another two or three weeks.”

  “I just think there’s something lying right on the table, and we�
�re missing it.” Em sat on the couch and pressed her fingers into the fabric.

  “Maybe not.” I stood and was pacing. As much as you could pace in the tiny abode we called home.

  “Oh, so maybe there’s been a suicide or murder and the disappearance of two employees for no reason. Maybe Carol Conroy is just paranoid. Maybe this Feng is following you guys and Carol Conroy as just some sort of exercise. I suppose that could be.” Em smiled and slugged down another swallow. “Hey, boyfriend, bring me another beer.”

  I did. And one for James and myself. We were now officially out of Yeungling, and I went outside to get the case from my car. The moon was coming up, and I realized the late hour. We hadn’t even looked at the video card yet. I hefted the case up on my shoulder, not needing any lower back strain at an early age, and turned to go in. I heard a car enter the lot, and turned briefly. The headlights were off, but I could make out the shape on the far side of the parking lot.

  I walked into the apartment, case on my shoulder, and Skip and Em looked up from their conversation and applauded. Whenever someone is bringing the drinks they get the accolades.

  Carrying the case to the refrigerator and setting it down, I turned to Em. “Well, do you have it all figured out by now?”

  She gave me a smirk. “No. But one more of these, and I’ll have to crash here tonight.”

  That wouldn’t have been all bad. We always spent the nights at her place, but if she really wanted to, well—That’s when the front window shattered and I heard the sharp crack from the parking lot. Like a whip, a firecracker. Like a gun. I froze.

  The glass shattered in our second front window and I heard another sharp crack. You always wonder what you’ll do in a tense situation like this. I lunged at Em, tackling her around the hips and knocking her to the ground. Later, she said I’d actually bruised her, but I couldn’t have cared less. Climbing on top of her I screamed. “James, get on the ground. Now.”