by J. C. Fields
Once the image was saved to the main server, Joseph said, “I think you’ll be impressed with JR’s facial recognition program. It’s faster than anything the government has.” Just as he said that, one of the monitoring laptop’s pinged. Joseph looked at the message. “Apparently Mr. Weber has found us.” He pointed to the split screen on the laptop. The left side was a live shot of the parking lot in front and slightly east of their location, and the right side was the newly saved picture of Weber with his name and current bio underneath the image.
Joseph’s shop was located in a commercial development that was designated as multi-use. The neighboring businesses varied, ranging from dentists and attorneys to restaurants and fitness centers. The complex was long, extending a half-mile from east to west. Joseph’s office was on the western side next to a fitness center and several high-end restaurants, so at this time of night, the parking lot was still busy.
Weber was standing next to a sedan several spaces from a light pole. The driver-side door was open, and he was holding what looked like an open file tilted toward the light pole. As they watched, Weber would look at the file and then the building. He did this several times before closing it and tossing it back into the vehicle. He surveyed the office complex, looking east and then west. Finally, he lifted a small digital camera to his eye and started taking pictures.
Sandy walked over to a laptop and typed in several instructions. The surveillance camera that was focused on Weber zoomed in and started recording. “He’s doing recon. Not very subtle about it, is he?”
Joseph shook his head but remained quiet as he watched the man taking pictures.
Sandy typed on the laptop keyboard again and said to the screen, “I wonder what you’re planning to do next, Mr. Weber.”
Finally, after several minutes, Weber got back in the sedan and left the parking space slowly. The camera tracked the car’s movement until it disappeared around the corner of the office complex one hundred yards to the west. Sandy said, “Bet he’s driving around to check out the rear entrance.”
They were in the workshop located at the rear of the office. On the back wall, a steel door led directly from the room into the service alley. Joseph walked to the wall and flipped off the light switch. He said, “No need to advertise someone’s here.”
Sandy typed more instructions on the laptop. The image on the laptop was now from cameras covering the alley. The split-screen format showed the view from cameras facing west and east. As they watched, the automobile driven by Weber appeared around the west end of the complex and slowly drove down the alley toward their door. Weber stopped the car next to the back door and got out again. He stood looking at the door and then concentrated on the roofline of the building. They could see him concentrating on a particular spot. He took the digital camera from his pocket and started taking more pictures. He pointed the camera directly at two of the security cameras secured in the back alley. Smiling, Weber got back into the car and drove on down the alley.
Joseph smiled and nodded. “He spotted the old cameras, not your new ones. That’s good.”
Sandy watched the image. “Why is he being so obvious taking pictures of the building and cameras?”
Joseph shook his head. “Not sure.” He paused for a few moments. “Unless he’s planning on coming back later and doing a more thorough job of looking around.”
Smiling, Sandy said, “I hope so.”
Chapter 25
New York City
The FBI investigative team looking into Sharon Crawford’s murder had so far found very little forensic evidence. Basic facts were all they had. She had died from a broken neck after a brief struggle. The killer must have worn gloves, because the only prints in the room were Sharon’s and the cleaning staff’s. She had not been sexually assaulted and she had not been able to scratch her assailant—no DNA evidence under her fingernails. Stray clothing fibers were found on her business suit as the killer grabbed her from behind and rubbed his clothing against her during the struggle. Analysis of the fiber matched it to a thousand identical suits sold at JC Penney. Her motel room had been turned inside out as the assailant searched for something. All the forensics team could determine missing was her laptop, cell phone, and her wallet.
Sean Kruger read through the reports, studied the crime scene photographs, and then repeated the process. Viewing the pictures of Sharon was the hardest. As he worked, something troubled him. Something was missing. He couldn’t place it, but he felt something was wrong with the scene. He turned to one of the technicians working in the room. “How tall was the assailant?”
Beverly Castro was a twenty-year veteran of the New York Crime Lab, mid-forties, black hair streaked with gray pulled back in a ponytail and twenty pounds overweight. She looked at him over half glasses. “Not sure,” she walked over to a desk in the lab, opened a notebook, and read for a few moments. “Tall, angle of the bruise marks on the victim’s neck—”
“Her name was Sharon,” said Kruger.
“Sorry, the bruises on Sharon’s neck indicate her assailant was a lot taller than she was.”
“The report says the carpet had been vacuumed before she arrived back at the hotel. There’s only one set of footprints leading to the bed. Did he carry her?”
“There were signs of a struggle. We think her neck was broken after he carried her to the bed.”
Kruger nodded; he had guessed as much. “Did you find any hair samples of the assailant around the bed?”
Beverly consulted the notebook again and shook her head. “Nothing conclusive, mostly just Sharon’s hair.”
Kruger was silent as he stared at his copy of the report. Finally he said, “There’s mention of several short gray hairs found on her clothing. Have they been sent off for analysis?”
She nodded. “Yes, but the results really won’t help us until we have a suspect. Why?”
Kruger thought for a moment. “Check them against US Marshal personnel records, active, non-active, and retired.”
Tilting her head to the side, Beverly said, “You know something we don’t?”
“Just a hunch, I’m probably wrong.” He gave her a weak smile. “But—you never know.”
“Okay, if you feel it’s important, I can push it through faster.”
Kruger nodded. “Yeah, I feel it’s important.”
***
Standing outside the evidence locker at Police Headquarters at One Police Plaza, Kruger handed the transfer-of-evidence paperwork to the officer at the reception desk. She looked at his ID, then the paperwork and nodded. She wrote something on a pad of paper and handed it to a young officer sitting behind her. She said, “Bobbie, please get this and I’ll finish up here.”
As soon as the young officer was gone, she looked up at Kruger, a small tear in her eye. “I’m Brittany Hardy, I knew Sharon. We worked a case together several years ago and became friends. Whenever she was in town, we’d have dinner.”
Kruger nodded. She was in her mid-thirties and slightly overweight. She was pretty in a simple way, with hazel eyes and shoulder-length light brown hair she tucked behind her ears. He said, “She was a special person.”
Brittany looked down at her desk and was quiet. “Did you know her very well?”
Kruger hesitated. He nodded. “Yes, we worked a few cases together. I considered her a friend.”
Brittany’s eyes suddenly grew wide and her hand went to her mouth. “You’re Sean, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry. I just now made the connection. She spoke of you often.”
Frowning, Kruger said, “What do you mean she spoke of me often?”
“You know, just girl talk. When we chatted about the men in our lives, she would always mention your name, no one else. I think she was still in love with you.”
Kruger stared at Brittany, struggling to keep tears from forming. Finally, he found his voice and said in a low whisper, “We were close at one time.”
Changing the subject, B
rittany said, “Do you know where she’ll be taken?”
He nodded. “I spoke to her mother. Sharon’s service will be in Florida. She grew up in Orlando.”
Brittany nodded and was about to say something when the other officer handed her the box containing Abel Plymel’s computer. She took it out and checked the information against Kruger’s paperwork and signed his copy. He signed her copy and placed the computer in his backpack. He placed one of the pack’s straps over his shoulder and turned to leave. The young woman said, “Did you and Sharon have plans for the future?”
He nodded. “At one time, yes…”
He left, not trusting himself to say anymore.
***
His appointment with the ex-accountant for P&G Global was scheduled for eleven the same morning. Upon arriving, he was shown into the man’s office without delay. Robert Hill was in his early thirties and currently working at a CPA firm in mid-Manhattan. Kruger had avoided telling the receptionist he was with the FBI to keep the rumor mill quiet. As they stepped into Hill’s office, he said, “I appreciate you not identifying yourself, Agent Kruger. Please sit down. Is this about P&G Global?”
Kruger nodded as he took a seat in front of Hill’s desk. The office smelled of Brut aftershave, dust, and musty files. The young man was slight of build, prematurely thinning hair, green eyes behind rimless glasses, and a rather sharp nose. Kruger said, “How long were you there after sending the memo about discrepancies?”
Hill chuckled. “I was gone that afternoon. They told me I’d made several errors in an account that cost the company millions. Apparently, Plymel used me as an excuse for the missing funds.”
“How much was missing?”
“Over five million from three accounts, all of which were worth more than a hundred million each, and those were just the easy ones to find. I knew of at least twenty other accounts with discrepancies, but I wasn’t able to examine them before I was dismissed.”
Kruger made a few notes and was quiet for several seconds. “Why did you send the memo directly to Plymel and not your boss?”
Hill shrugged. “The organizational chart was a little odd; everybody in the accounting and auditing departments reported directly to Plymel. He was my boss. I always thought it was to streamline communications, but now I realize he was keeping tabs on anyone discovering the transfer of funds.”
“What was Alton Crigler’s roll in all of this?”
“That’s a great question. He was supposed to be the managing partner, but was seldom there. He spent four to five days a week in Washington. I was responsible for auditing his expense account. Every Monday I would receive one from the preceding week. Like clockwork, it would be on my desk before I arrived in the morning. My instructions were to check the math, correct any errors, approve it, and send it to accounts payable. All of this had to be done by noon on the day I received the report. He had no limits on expenditures, and I was not to question any of his expenses. Which should have been a red flag for me, but I had just passed my CPA exam and was a little green.”
“What were his expenses like?”
“Hugh, minimum of four figures and sometimes five on a weekly basis.” He paused, stared at this desk and continued, “One time I questioned a five-thousand-dollar restaurant bill without a receipt. I was told to pay it and shut up.” He sighed. “The whole place felt like that.”
Kruger frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It was like everything we did was for the pleasure and compensation of Mr. Plymel and Mr. Crigler. We were all there just to make sure they kept their lifestyle.”
Kruger made more notes. “Did you ever find any discrepancies with any of the accounts Crigler managed?”
Hill shook his head. “No, I wasn’t involved with them. He was more of the handshaking and backslapping guy for the company.”
They spoke for another thirty minutes as Hill described his overall duties in more detail. Kruger finally said, “Mr. Hill, I appreciate your time. Here is my card. If you think of anything else, please call me.”
He stood and walked to the door. Just as he was about to open it, Hill said, “One more thing, Agent Kruger.”
He turned around to look at Hill. “Yes.”
“There are some good people in the auditing department, but you need to know they’re scared.”
Kruger nodded. “As well they should be.”
***
Kruger pulled into his parking slot at the condo a few minutes after eight that night. He was tired and frustrated. Over an hour ago, he had returned Joseph’s message to call him as soon as his flight landed in Kansas City. Now Joseph wasn’t answering. In his message, Joseph had told him that JR would be in KC, but no specifics on where. Plymel’s computer had to be in the lab in Washington sometime tomorrow, or questions would be raised.
With his computer backpack slung over his shoulder and his overnight bag in his hand, he walked up the one flight of stairs and went to his door. There was a small yellow Post-it note at eye level next to his apartment number—no words, just numbers. He unlocked the door and took the note inside. There were nine digits with no spaces, parentheses, or dashes. After depositing his luggage in the bedroom, he stared at the numbers and suddenly smiled. After punching the numbers into his cell phone, the call was answered on the second ring.
“You must have gotten my message?”
“Not much of a message, JR, but yes, I did. I have something for you.”
“Good, I’ll be right there.” The call ended without another word.
Fifteen minutes later, JR and Mia were in Kruger’s condo. JR sat at the breakfast bar examining Plymel’s laptop, and Mia stood next to Kruger as they watched him work. She said, “Are you going to be able to help him?”
Kruger nodded. “Yes, I believe I can.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I hope so. He’s a good man.” She paused, took a deep breath, and sighed. “I’m falling in love with him.”
Looking at her, Kruger remained quiet. She was staring again at JR, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. “He’s determined to get through this so we can have a future together. I have to help him in any way I can.”
Kruger didn’t respond.
She continued, “Did you know he was in the military?”
Kruger nodded.
“He was a member of a group of men trained to start the first Cyber Warfare unit, but he and his commanding officer had a disagreement, so he quit.”
This was news to Kruger. He wondered why Joseph had failed to mention this fact.
She continued, “When those two men escorted him out of the building, he knew if he got in the SUV, he’d never get out of it alive, so he defended himself.” She looked up at Kruger, a tear in her eye. “If he hadn’t defended himself, I’d never have met him. I’m sorry someone died because of it, but I’m glad it happened. Is it wrong for me to feel that way?”
Kruger shook his head. “No.”
She turned her attention back to JR. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help him.”
JR looked up from the computer. “When do you need to take this computer back?”
Kruger said, “I have to have it in Washington by tomorrow afternoon. Can you analyze the disk by then?”
JR shook his head. “I don’t have the right software with me. I need to do it in my computer room.”
“We don’t have that kind of time.”
“What if I clone the drive and put the clone in the computer? That way I have the original?”
Kruger said quietly, “Why is the original so important?”
JR shrugged. “Personal preference. From what I can see on first glance, the disk is heavily segmented, which means a lot of data has been deleted recently. I can recover the deleted information as long as I have the original disk.”
“Would someone else be able to tell the original was replaced?”
“Not when I’m done.”
Kruger nodded and smiled.
&nb
sp; JR and Mia left his condo just after ten, planning to return in the morning. JR knew a place in Overland Park where he could buy a duplicate hard drive. He would then clone the original and install the clone in the laptop. Afterward, he and Mia would drive back to Springfield.
Kruger walked down the condo hall and knocked on Stephanie’s door. It took several knocks, but finally he heard the dead bolt being released, and the door opened. Stephanie smiled as he walked into the living area. They hugged and she said, “Hi, stranger. When did you get back?”
“Couple of hours ago. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
She smiled. “No, just finishing up some paperwork.”
He suspected she was lying; her hair was pulled back and she wore a baggy sweatshirt. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to see you before I leave again.”
The smile on her face disappeared briefly, but she recovered. “That’s disappointing. When do you have to leave?”
As he stood there, weariness spread through his body. He took a deep breath. “I was planning on leaving tomorrow afternoon. But I just decided to postpone the trip for a day.”
She smiled. “I’m in town till next week. I was hoping you’d be home this weekend.”
“I’ll make sure I am.”
Chapter 26
Springfield, MO
Determined not to make the same mistakes he made in Chicago, Adam Weber surveyed the security cameras and rear door of the business. Gaining entry was not going to be difficult. He had no plans to steal anything; he just wanted to see the personnel files. Utilizing skills learned from the many characters he had encountered while a US Marshal, he would be able to gain access easily.
