by Chris Taylor
Hammond’s expression registered surprise. “Really? What are you saying? That your witness got it wrong?”
Chloe held his dubious gaze. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I now believe there wasn’t any unauthorized access at all. I think Agent Munro was set up.”
Hammond leaned back against his chair and shook his head. “Wow, that’s a long way from the summary of your Brief of Evidence you submitted to me a month ago. You were all but convinced of Munro’s guilt.”
“You’re right, I was. At least, enough to allow the matter to proceed through the courts.”
“So what happened?”
Chloe sighed and wondered yet again if she was ready for this. Once she’d shared her suspicions, there would be no going back.
“Agent Munro has always insisted upon his innocence. I started thinking about different scenarios for how a computer trail could exist that clearly demonstrated his guilt. I realized everything revolved around the computer login.”
“But Agent Munro was adamant he’d never given those details to anyone,” Hammond said.
“Exactly. It’s the reason I couldn’t see past his guilt. Even now, the thought of it annoys me. From the time I knew what the presumption of innocence meant, I’ve believed in it. It’s the backbone of our criminal justice system, but to tell you the truth, once I had those computer printouts that confirmed Agent Munro’s computer login had been used to illegally access those files at a time when he was at work and then when the images were found on his laptop, I couldn’t see beyond them.”
“Chloe, I think you’re being a little hard on—”
“No, I’m not. I’m just being honest. As Agent Munro was concerned, apart from a lapse of certainty every now and then, I was convinced of his guilt before we ever stepped foot inside the courtroom.”
“I still think you’re being too hard on yourself, but anyway, let’s move on. What’s happened to make you change your mind? In fact, not only to change your mind, but to take the investigation in a completely different direction?”
Chloe held his gaze. “I discovered this morning that Agent Munro’s personnel file was accessed by a staff member from the Home Affairs Office a month before Agent Stanford came forward with the allegations. Agent Munro’s file contained his computer login details.”
Hammond pursed his lips and slowly nodded his head. “Wow, that’s…interesting. The Home Affairs Office? Who was it?”
“A clerk by the name of Eric Stoltenberg. I’ve yet to speak with him, but I did speak to the Minister.”
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.” Chloe took a deep breath. “He denied knowing anything about it.”
“Who sent Eric to HR?”
“I don’t know yet. As I said, I haven’t had a chance yet to talk to Eric. My uncle assured me he’d find out what was going on. I’m still waiting for him to call me.”
“Is that all you’ve got?”
“Yes, at least for now, but it proves that someone else, even if it was only Eric Stoltenberg, had access to Agent Munro’s login details. It provides reasonable doubt. Even I would argue for a not guilty verdict.”
“But where’s this Eric fellow’s motive? And how would he gain access to the computer used by Agent Munro in the CPU? How would a clerk from the Home Affairs Office even know which computer Agent Munro used?”
“You’re right. There is still a lot we don’t know, but it’s enough to cast serious doubt on Agent Munro’s guilt.”
“What about Agent Stanford? Didn’t he give evidence yesterday that Agent Munro had exhibited an unhealthy interest in young children in the past?”
“Yes, he did, but I’m beginning to wonder about that, also. In fact, I’m now almost certain it was Stanford who downloaded the illegal images onto Agent Munro’s laptop. He was a friend of Agent Munro’s and he admitted under oath he had regular access to Agent Munro’s apartment, where the laptop was kept. It’s not beyond the realms of possibility that he downloaded the images.”
Hammond blew out his breath on a heavy sigh. “It’s a lot to take in, Chloe. Where are you going from here?”
“Fortunately for me, the magistrate has now committed Agent Munro to stand trial. It means that I have a little time to dig deeper and find out exactly what’s going on and who’s responsible.”
“Does Agent Munro know this Stoltenberg fellow? Is there any reason why Stoltenberg would try to frame him?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t put either of those questions to Agent Munro. I only found out about Stoltenberg today. Interestingly, Agent Stanford admitted to knowing him. As I said, I have yet to speak with Eric.”
Hammond’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “There’s a link between Stanford and the clerk? That is interesting. After all, it was Stanford who you say, started all of this in the first place.”
“Yes, I agree Stanford is in the thick of it. Whether or not he was the one to make the request of Eric, we’ll have to wait and see.”
“I think Stanford’s a real possibility. It makes sense, especially given his connection to Munro and the laptop. If Stanford and the clerk are friends, it’s not too much of a leap to imagine Stanford obtaining Agent Munro’s login details and creating the computer trail. Stanford’s evidence against Munro then makes perfect sense. All we need to find is a motive.”
From out of nowhere, Chloe’s thoughts landed on her uncle and the inconsistency in his story. It appeared more than likely that he was also connected to Stanford, but yet again, there was the problem of motive. Her uncle didn’t even know Declan.
Hammond eyed her quizzically, but her lips remained compressed. She wasn’t ready to sully her uncle’s name just yet. Until she had irrefutable proof of his involvement, she’d leave the Minister out of it.
“You’re right,” she said, “and as soon as I interview Eric, I hope to be a little closer to finding that out. Unless the clerk’s in this right up to his neck, I would have thought he’d be more than willing to tell me who requested he access Agent Munro’s file and whether or not it was Stanford.”
Hammond eyed her solemnly. “Let’s hope it is. I’d rather it be Stanford than someone high up in the Home Affairs Office. Things could get nasty for all of us.”
Determination flooded through her. She thought of Declan and of the honorable way he’d conducted himself throughout both of his interviews and throughout the hearing. If what she suspected was true, he’d been treated abominably. He had every reason to hate her and everyone associated with her.
She stared at Hammond and straightened her spine. “Our job is to seek out the truth and see justice done. I say, bring it on.”
“You’re going to have to inform Agent Munro’s lawyer as soon as possible about these developments, at least the part about the personnel file being accessed.”
“Yes, you’re right. I guess it’s only fair.”
Hammond pursed his lips and nodded. “Yes, it is. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 17
After leaving Hammond’s office, Chloe returned to her desk to log off her computer and collect her things. Unable to help herself, her thoughts once again centered on Declan. She was now more convinced than ever of his innocence. Whether it was Stanford or Stoltenberg or a combination of both, it was obvious there was far more at play than a simple case of an agent gone bad.
Her boss was right. The information she’d discovered from HR and from Stanford were game changers. She could no longer justify keeping her findings from Declan, or at the very least, from his barrister.
She flicked through Declan’s file until she found the number for Roger White. A cheerful sounding receptionist answered the phone after the third ring.
“I’m sorry, Mr White has left for the day,” the woman informed her when Chloe asked if she could speak with the barrister.
Chloe politely declined to leave a message and ended the call. She glanced down at the file on her desk and her gaze landed on Declan’s number. Her heart s
kipped a beat. Did she dare call him? What was she afraid of? Just because he had the power to send her insides to jelly didn’t mean she’d lost the ability to speak.
She hadn’t seen him since the end of the committal hearing earlier that day, when the magistrate had announced he was committing Declan to stand trial. That was when Declan had turned and looked at her, his eyes shadowed with devastation and disbelief. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Then there was the problem of what she would tell him. Her news was not something she wanted to give to him over the phone. But what if he refused to see her?
For goodness sake, Chloe, just call him and get it over with! Her mind taunted her. She smiled a little ruefully. Before she could change her mind, she picked up the phone again and dialed Declan’s number.
* * *
Declan peered at the caller ID illuminated on his phone and his heart leaped. With an effort, he slowed the pounding inside his chest with a few quick breaths and answered the call.
“Chloe.”
“Declan. Hi. Um… How are you?”
“I’ve had better days, but I’m sure you know that.”
“Yes, sorry. That was stupid of me. I was… Well I was wondering if we could meet? I need to talk to you.”
“Now?”
“Yes, if it’s not too late for you.”
“Of course it’s not too late. It’s not even six o’clock. Is this about Charlie? What did you find out? I’ve been trying to get hold of him all day.”
“I’d rather not say over the phone. Is there somewhere we can meet? What about that bar in Civic?”
Declan spied the five empty beer bottles that stood accusingly on the kitchen counter and pursed his lips. “Um, look, I’m at home and I’ve had a few too many to drive. What can I say? It’s been a shit of a day. How about you come over here?”
Silence greeted him on the other end of the phone. He could almost see her debating the pros and cons of his invitation.
“Forget about it,” he said. “I’ll get a cab. We can meet at the pub.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll meet you at your home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Um…yeah. I’m sure.”
“I assume you remember the way?” he said, a little dryly. It felt like a lifetime ago when she’d turned up to arrest him.
“I’ll see you in an hour.”
His pulse jumped again. “No worries.”
* * *
Chloe braked at the traffic lights and for the thousandth time debated the wisdom of her decision. She should have insisted she meet Declan on neutral territory, a place where she wouldn’t be tempted to remember how good it felt to have his lips touch her skin, but it was too late now. In minutes, she’d be at his apartment.
Besides, she’d never been a coward, at least not in that way. She might not be confident enough to wear colors that would make her stand out in a crowd, but she was sure she could keep her distance and handle an early evening meeting with a man she was trying to help, even if he was the hottest-looking man she’d come across in a long, long time.
Cruising along his street, Chloe slowed when she got to his apartment block. Pulling into the curb, she shut off the ignition and sat there for a few moments, gathering her courage. With an impatient shake of her head, she reached over and collected her briefcase off the floor and opened the door.
Get on with it, Chloe. She silently admonished herself. And stop being so damned ridiculous.
With that, she strode up the short walkway and pressed the button for the elevator.
* * *
Declan heard the buzzer outside his door and his heart skipped a beat. Ever since Chloe’s phone call, his pulse had been doing double time. In a sudden panic, he ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to bring it under some sort of control. Glancing down, he realized he still wore the clothes he’d been in all day. Hours of angst and pacing later, they looked a little worse for wear. Unfortunately, he’d left it too late to change.
With a resigned sigh, he took a deep breath and opened the door. Chloe stood in the corridor, looking uncertain. Declan suddenly realized that for all of her outward confidence, she harbored a degree of insecurity outside working hours. It had been obvious at the bar the night before, but he’d put it down to her being in an establishment that clearly made her uncomfortable. Now he wondered if there was more to it. Or perhaps it was just him who made her nervous? The thought intrigued him.
“Come in. Please,” he said, remembering his manners at last.
He stood back and allowed her to enter and then closed the door behind her. Noting she was also dressed in the clothes she’d worn to court, his nerves eased and he headed toward the bar to fix her a drink.
“Can I get you a beer? Or perhaps you’d prefer a margarita?” Her eyes widened in surprise and he could tell she was pleased he’d remembered.
“Um, yes. A margarita would be lovely.”
After fixing her drink, he opened a bottle of mineral water and took a healthy slug.
“You’re not drinking?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I think I’ve had my quota for today. Besides, something tells me I want to have a clear head—well, as clear as possible, for what you’re about to tell me.”
She moved further into the room and set her briefcase and cocktail glass on the coffee table. He followed her. Perching on the edge of the sofa, she took a deep breath, drew up her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.
“I’ve discovered someone out of the Minister’s Office accessed your personnel file about a month before Stanford came forward with his accusations.”
Shock immobilized him. His jaw fell open. “Are you talking about the Minister for Home Affairs?”
Chloe bit her lip and nodded. Declan shook his head in disbelief.
“Look, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said hurriedly. “All I know is that a clerk by the name of Eric Stoltenberg who works in the Home Affair’s Office accessed your file. I went to HR today and checked the file myself. While there didn’t appear to be anything missing and the HR manager assured me nothing had been photocopied, I can’t be certain nothing was photographed.”
Declan seized upon her announcement. He threw his arms up into the air. “Christ. Don’t you see? It’s like I told you before. Someone stole my login details. It’s obvious I’m being framed. I wish to hell you’d had this information earlier. It could have made a difference to the magistrate’s decision.”
Guilt suffused her features. Declan’s heart stopped. Comprehension slowly dawned and anger consumed him.
“You did know earlier…?”
Chloe swallowed and averted her gaze. Declan’s temper rose. He advanced toward her.
“Yes or no, Senior Investigator Sabattini? Did you have this information prior to the time the magistrate handed down his decision?”
He held his breath and waited for her reply. When the tiny nod of acquiescence came, he clenched his fists and exhaled on a vicious oath.
“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” he yelled. “You were there, in the courtroom. All you had to do was step forward and inform the court that you’d come into new information that you believed could make a difference to the outcome. And yet, you didn’t say a word. Even to me.”
He scraped a hand through his ragged hair and stumbled away from her, unable to face her for another second. He couldn’t believe what she’d done. Rather, what she hadn’t done. Charlie’s betrayal was still a raw wound and now this. His fury spread through him until it threatened to consume him. He spun on his heel and lasered her with his eyes.
“Do you have any idea what it feels like to be treated like a criminal? To be arrested, handcuffed and put in a cell. To be sneered at, led into the dock, with my family watching on. Do you know what that feels like? Do you even care?”
Chloe’s face paled. She looked like she was going to be sick. Declan forced himself to ignore the distress in her eyes. He opened h
is mouth to berate her again, but she beat him to it.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. At the time, I didn’t think it was enough. Yours wasn’t the only file Eric Stoltenberg accessed. I didn’t know what it meant, at least, not enough to petition the court to reopen the hearing.”
She drew in a breath and continued quickly, as if to prevent him from interrupting again.
“I’ve since found out there’s a connection between Stoltenberg and Stanford. What I don’t know is whether the clerk was acting under orders or acting alone.” She sighed. “The other thing I keep coming back to is motive. Even you agreed you couldn’t think of a reason why Stanford would do this to you. Do you know Eric Stoltenberg? Is there any reason why he would be framing you?”
The fury went out of him, replaced with a coldness that seeped into Declan’s veins. He’d never heard of Stoltenberg. There was only one person he knew who worked in the Home Affairs Office.
Memories of his meeting with the Minister filled him with foreboding. He could barely bring himself to voice the question, but he had to know.
“Ronald Sabattini, the Minister? He’s not… He’s not your father, is he?”
“No.”
Declan’s breath whooshed out and his shoulders sagged.
“He’s my uncle.”
He gasped. Christ, of all the people to fall for—not that he was falling for her, he hastily amended.
Did she know about her uncle? Surely, she did? No family could keep something like that a secret.
But what if she didn’t? He damned well wasn’t going to be the one to enlighten her. Any chance they might have of making a go of it would be destroyed before it had started.
“Do you know him?” she asked, curiosity plain on her face.
For more than five seconds, Declan was sure his heart had ceased pumping. He stared at her, his mouth opening and closing as he waited for her to tell him she knew: She knew about him and the Minister.
But her expression remained open, filled with nothing more than keen interest. He searched frantically for the right words.
