A Young Lawyer's story

by John Ellsworth

  "That's interesting. But I've already got a job. I don't want to do any other business. Besides, I wouldn't be allowed to even if I wanted."

  The young man brushed his hand through the air as if scattering flies. "Don't let that stop you. This is extremely lucrative. I bet your student loans could disappear too."

  Thaddeus' face brightened. "How would that work? I owe over two hundred grand."

  "Your customer would wave a magic wand and the debt would be gone. Poof!"

  "That's interesting. What would this customer want from me?"

  "You will have to talk with them about that. Be at the Washington Monument tonight at nine-thirty. The benches on the north side."

  "Really? I think I'll pass. Like I said, I'm pretty happy with what I'm doing."

  The visitor's face darkened. "Be there, Mr. Murfee. My customer knows about you following our other customer to the Reservoir last week. You were observed spying on our customer. My customer did not like that and would take it very badly if you're not there tonight to meet. My advice? Be there or you're at risk."

  "At risk of what?"

  But the bus boy was already up and moving his cart toward the kitchen. Thaddeus watched as he suddenly swept off his apron and discarded it and headed for the restaurant's entrance. Then he was gone.

  Thaddeus was shaking. They had seen him. They were onto him! McGrant—he was going to need protection. That suddenly rose to the top of his list.

  He wouldn't have believed such things happen if he hadn't just witnessed it with his own ears and eyes. But it was what he'd signed up for with McGrant, so he knew better than to not show up at nine-thirty. He decided he would be there and immediately had to stand and tear away to the rest room. Inside, he tossed cold water at his face and suddenly vomited into the sink.

  "Fool," he said to his reflection in the mirror.

  He'd never felt this scared in his life, not even before the bar exam.

  "It's the big leagues, pal," he said to himself.

  18

  Seven o'clock and Thaddeus was home alone--all roommates were out—and he would ordinarily be enjoying having the apartment to himself. But not tonight. In two hours he was due at the Washington Monument and he would need to leave home in about an hour. His nerves were frayed and every car going past the house was a threat. Or so it felt.

  On his desk was his personal laptop, where he was viewing YouTube videos of guitar players. Someday, he was thinking, I'm going to learn this stuff. But he hadn't learned it yet, he thought with dismay, as he picked up his guitar and began chording. But how to make it cry and sing, as Mark Knopfler put it--that was what he wanted to do, playing notes up high on the neck where the pros hang out.

  The video ended and that was when he heard the front doorbell, the non-stop ringing. He jumped up and went to the door and pulled it open.

  "Nikki, why aren't you at school?"

  Actually, he knew why. Her father had been indicted and Thaddeus had called her back when she'd called earlier, but he had only been able to leave a message. So she had come over uninvited and just now was looking desperate.

  "You heard about my dad, I'm sure. I'm crushed, Mom's beside herself, and no one knows what to do."

  "Come on in. Let me make you some coffee."

  "That would be good."

  They went into the kitchen and Thaddeus pulled out a kitchen chair for her.

  "Sit down, we'll talk,” he said.

  He served coffee to her and made a second cup for himself. When the Keurig was done steaming, he joined Nikki at the table.

  "So. Your father has been indicted. I tried calling you back. Did you get my message?"

  She brushed a wisp of hair away from her face and said, "I did, but I was already on my way home and knew I'd be seeing you tonight. We spent the day talking to two different lawyers and got two different opinions about what to do."

  "Who did you see? No, wait. I shouldn't ask because it's where I work that's prosecuting your dad. In fact, I should stay out of it altogether."

  "No, please. I really need to talk. What if we just talk off the record? Neither of us repeats what we say tonight?"

  He looked down at the table top, thinking. Then, "We can try that. But it can't go any further than this room. Agree?"

  "Agree. Anyway, we saw Tom Behringer at Scanlon McMann. They're very high profile--"

  "I know who they are. I sent them a resume and never heard back when I was looking."

  "Then you know all about Tom. He thought my father was probably looking at a long time in jail. He offered my mom very little hope and actually had little useful to say. I came away wondering how Tom Behringer was affected by the fact that my father was U.S. Attorney or what it was exactly that seemed to have him muffled. Anyway, he was nothing like what we were expecting."

  "So who was next?"

  "Elizabeth L. Robertson at Robertson McNally. Now she's a fireball and we really liked her. But she was adamant the case should go to trial and we should do this and that. I know I'm only pre-law, Thaddeus, but it seemed to me she was painting a pretty rosy picture of what would probably happen if there was a trial. She was pretty confident she could win in court and that my dad would be exonerated. I told my mom that I thought she was overreaching, that maybe she was hard up for a big retainer."

  "How much?"

  "Tom wanted two-fifty down."

  "Two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand?"

  "Right. Ms. Robertson wanted five-hundred all at once. She needed the whole amount without giving us some time to get it together."

  "When is your dad due in court?"

  "Well, they've already had the initial appearance. The judge refused to set bail."

  "Why no bail?"

  She shrugged. "He said my dad posed a threat to the community. He was afraid my dad would sell more secrets to someone. Something like that."

  "What a mess. It sounds just horrible for your whole family."

  Tears washed into Nikki's eyes as she sat there. She drew a deep breath and stifled the sobs and then finally let go. She was crying and wiping her eyes when Thaddeus stood and embraced her. Wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her close, he smelled a wonderful fragrance in her hair. Unable to stop himself, he dropped his face to her head and kept it there. Her face turned against his shoulder and then was looking up at him.

  "Kiss me, Thaddeus. I need that."

  He lowered his head and kissed her fully on the lips. Her lips parted and he tasted her mouth. Suddenly the air was electric and he found himself moving his hands across her back and shoulders then reaching lower and cradling her left cheek in his hand. Which was when it hit him, a moment of lucidity, and he realized what he was doing and understood for the first time the consequences of what he was about to do. He pulled his hands away from the young woman and stood himself upright. He took a step back and held her by the shoulders.

  "Nikki, I can't do this. It wouldn't be right."

  She wiped a tissue across her eyes.

  "Why not?'

  "There are certain things I know. And I can't tell you. But I've seen certain things that make me a possible witness against Mr. Broyles."

  She suddenly planted her hands on her hips and leaned away from him. "What? You're actually going to testify against my father?"

  "Now I didn't say that. But certain things have come to my attention and it would be wrong of me to make love to you without you knowing what I know so you can decide if you really want to get mixed up with me. This isn't the best time for you to make that choice. Not until it all comes out and you have all the facts."

  "Great! So now you're going to use what I've told you so far? Use it against my dad?"

  "No, no, no! You've only told me you saw a couple of lawyers. We haven't discussed anything about the case and we can't. I can't. So I would be taking advantage of you if I had sex with you. You might hate me on down the line and I don't want you to think I used you. Worse, I can't do it."

  "So you
think he's guilty?"

  She sat back down and toyed with her coffee cup.

  "I didn't say that. I don't even know what the charges are against him. I certainly don't have an opinion whether he's guilty or not."

  "So there's hope for him? What about what you know? Is there some way you can get out of using it against him?"

  Thaddeus sat down again. He sipped his coffee and closed his eyes, thinking.

  "I don't know about getting out of anything. My first inclination, because I like you so much and because I really like Mr. Broyles, is to resign. But even if I do, they could still subpoena me and force me to tell what I know. So resigning doesn't get us anywhere."

  There: he had said "us." He had taken sides without really meaning to.

  "Doesn't get you anywhere, I mean," he added.

  "I just think it's pretty bad that you could come to our house and eat dinner with us and then turn around and tell stuff about my dad that might help send him to prison. I mean, who does that?"

  "I know. I hate it, too."

  "I'm getting really upset about you, Thaddeus, let me just tell you. I'm getting angry that you would tell someone something about my dad. How did you find out what you found out?"

  Thaddeus swallowed hard. This was only going to get worse, he knew. He wished they weren't having this talk, wished they were not part of the Franklin J. Broyles problem.

  "I found out because I followed your dad," he said glumly.

  "You followed him? Why on earth would you do that?"

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes, pushing against his forehead.

  "Someone told me to. It was part of my job. Look, I'm sorry. But when it all happened I hadn't met you yet. I hadn't been to your house. I didn't know how much I was going to like you, Nikki. I didn't know I might even feel stronger than just like. I got really screwed up and I'm sorry."

  "Where on earth did you follow him to?"

  "Almost to Maryland. Just right across the state line."

  "Shit, Thaddeus, how could you? He was your boss!"

  "They told me to. I didn't have any choice."

  "Who told you? Was it the FBI?"

  "No, it was someone in the office."

  She grimaced. "Someone in my dad's office told you to follow my dad? That's beyond the pale. I mean, he gave you a job and then you turn on him?"

  Nikki was standing now, pointing a finger at Thaddeus.

  "I didn't turn on him. It wasn't personal."

  "Ha! That's your excuse, that it wasn't personal. I'm really glad I found out all this about you before I went to bed with you. You were right: I did need to know first. You're a snake, Thaddeus Murfee, and I never want to see you again!"

  She turned and stormed to the front door, which she yanked open and then pushed through the outer door. She was standing with it pushed open when she turned and said, "Guys like you just use other people to get ahead. Washington is full of men like you. No--don't say anything, please. Just let me go."

  She went on through and the door slammed shut behind her. Then she was in her car and the lights popped on and she was backing out.

  Thaddeus stood at the door long after she had driven out of sight.

  He went back into his bedroom and saw his guitar leaning against his desk.

  For the first time since he bought the instrument, he suddenly no longer wanted to pick it up and play. Instead, he returned it to its case and clamped the clasps shut one at a time. With his foot he slid it all underneath his bed.

  "Damn," he said to himself. "Damn."

  He checked his watch.

  He was expected at the Washington Monument meeting in seventy minutes. It was time to start moving in that direction.

  Nikki wouldn't understand any of this, he thought. It's better we don't have a thing right now.

  The words made sense but they totally conflicted with his feelings.

  He really liked that girl. In fact, now he liked her more than ever.

  "Damn."

  19

  Nikki was out of his life and it really hurt as he picked his way through traffic, arriving at his office later that night. He met with McGrant and Ranski in his own office. Stacked neatly on the conference table were four piles of documents, which Thaddeus would deliver to the Chinese in just over two hours.

  Then they launched into just how face-to-face communications would be handled that night.

  “If they want U.S. Attorney insider information on prosecution of cyber crimes, what do you do, Thaddeus?" said McGrant.

  Thaddeus looked at his notes one last time.

  "I'm going to agree to it in Chinese cases but not in other cases. And only if it's an attack on government networks."

  "Good," said Ranski. "Now what if it's not cybercrime prosecution information they're after? What if they're after DoD secrets like they were with Frank Broyles?"

  He shook his head. "I tell them that I don't have access to those secrets. I tell them that Mr. Broyles had access because he had a man on the inside of the DoD that he had strung out. Someone he could manipulate."

  "And what if they ask you to do something else other than secrets?" said McGrant. "What if they ask you to murder someone?"

  Thaddeus stifled a laugh. "Right, I'm sure that won't be the case."

  "Not so fast," said Ranski. "We've had that request before in another agency."

  "What did our guy do?"

  "He didn't do anything. We broke off and began prosecution for soliciting murder. A Chinese spy is doing twenty years for that one."

  "What are the chances they'll ask me something like that?"

  "Very slim," said Ranski. "But it has been known to happen, like I said."

  "What else?"

  "They might ask you to identify DOJ employees. Or even FBI. No way will we ever do that."

  "So basically I'm going to agree only to pass them information on prosecutions of cyber crimes?"

  "Right."

  "What if they don't want that? What if they want something different?"

  Ranski leaned forward at the table. She put her hands on the arm rests and moved her face close to Thaddeus' face. "Again, you have no authority to agree to anything else."

  "So just tell them no and walk away?"

  McGrant took over. "No, tell them you need to think about it. Then you'll come back and talk to us and we'll make that decision."

  "Will you be watching me tonight?"

  "Yes. We always have plants around key attractions in Washington."

  "So your people are already in place?"

  "Twenty-four/seven, Thaddeus. Always. And our people are armed and will intervene in case the other side tries to take you away."

  "Will I be wearing a wire?"

  "No. They'll pat you down, search you. No wires."

  "How will you know if I'm at risk, then?"

  "We'll have hidden listening devices nearby. You don't need to worry about that. You'll be safer than you are at home watching Game of Thrones."

  "I don't watch that. I can't afford HBO."

  "Well, whatever. You get my point."

  "Yes."

  Just before nine o'clock, Thaddeus took a cab over to the Washington Monument. They wanted him there early in case the Chinese were early. He paid the cab fare and walked across the grounds to the monument. On the north side he sat down on the curved bench occupying thirty feet of the monument's perimeter. He crossed his legs, leaned back, and tried to appear nonchalant.

  Thirty minutes is a long time when you're waiting to meet spies from China, Thaddeus decided. Plus there was a nip in the air, adding to his feeling of being just a little chilled. Or excited--he couldn't tell which.

  Sing Di Hoa stepped out of the Metro car at the Smithsonian Station and walked toward the National Mall. He abruptly stopped several times during his walk, keeping to the shadows, and studied the path he was following. Assured no one was following--at least no one he could see--he proceeded to the Washington Monument.

  Thaddeus sa
w the Chinese man approaching from his left. He came upright from his slouch and kept his eyes on the man. The man stopped beside him and took a seat four feet away. For all intents and purposes his attention seemed to be focused on the monument and not on Thaddeus. He produced an iPhone and began snapping pictures of the monument, brightly lit up in a wonderful nighttime light show. Suddenly he spoke to Thaddeus without turning his head and looking at him.

  "Mr. Murfee, my friends would like to make you an offer."

  "What kind of offer?” Thaddeus replied, keeping his eyes averted as well.

  “First remove your coat and unbutton your shirt.”

  Thaddeus did as he was told. The cold air bit into his skin and he shivered violently.

  “Now unbutton your shirt cuffs and pull them up.”

  He again complied.

  “Now,” Thaddeus said when the man appeared satisfied. “Tell me what your people want.”

  "They wish to buy information from you. Information on prosecutions undertaken by your Cybercrimes group."

  "Why would I do that? I'm not a traitor."

  "No one says you are. But you do sit with the group as its team lead. That is a very important and very powerful position because it gives you knowledge of all prosecutions ongoing. My friends would like to buy information on certain of those prosecutions."

  "Would that be prosecutions of China-based operations?"

  "It would definitely include those. But there could be others as well."

  "And who would be my contact? You?"

  "In the beginning, yes. That may change over time. But what would you care? The pay's the same."

  "What is the pay?"

  "Twenty-five thousand dollars for every internal investigatory file. There are lots of those, I'm sure. You would pay off your student loans in two months. Maybe less."

  Thaddeus thought about this for several moments. McGrant and Ranski had promised the money would be his. It was true; he could dump the damn student loans and get on with his life. Maybe buy a condo. Maybe even a condo in Georgetown. Now that would be something. His thoughts roamed on, considering what the money could mean to him. But then the man said something that burst the thought bubble.