Wearing the Spider (A Suspense Novel) (Legal Thriller) (Thriller)

Home > Other > Wearing the Spider (A Suspense Novel) (Legal Thriller) (Thriller) > Page 25
Wearing the Spider (A Suspense Novel) (Legal Thriller) (Thriller) Page 25

by Schaab, Susan


  “So, Eves, how much do you know about this Senator Arbeson? You said you worked on his re-election campaign, right?

  “Yes, to my discredit. I was moved by certain of his early campaign speeches. So when Alan, who was one of the campaign cochairmen, asked if I would help, I said I would. Of course, that was before I knew Alan very well either. I only saw the Senator in person a handful of times while I was working on the campaign. We dealt out the rhetoric consistent with the re-election objectives of an incumbent. I thought I was reading him properly, but then what do you ever really know for certain about a politician?”

  Joe smiled.

  “I’ve done some legal work for him since.”

  “So he turned out to be different. Was he one of the men in your life who disappointed you?”

  “Yes, I guess he was. But I was never personally involved with him.” She wondered whether or not she should tell Joe about the handwritten note questioning whether she’d had just such a personal relationship with the Senator. Probably no point. She continued, “I guess I’m just disappointed in retrospect that I spent so much time working on his campaign.” Evie walked over to the bed and put down her bag and laptop computer.

  “And you think Alan still has a close relationship with him?”

  “Yes. The few times I was invited to so-called private functions, it was because I was there with Alan or on Alan’s invitation. Also, I think he’s been a client of the firm for some time.”

  Joe walked over to the desk and cleared off a space for Evie’s laptop. He said almost to himself, “He’s fairly senior and well-respected. I remember reading that he’s thinking of running in the next Presidential primary. His voting record seems to be consistent with frontline Republicans for the most part.”

  “To think that Alan could someday have access to the most powerful man in the world.”

  Joe had booted up his laptop on the desk and called up a software program called Poirette. He typed in a series of commands that Evie couldn’t follow, but then she watched as a systematic progression of pixels flashed on the screen. The electronic detective was accessing a remote site where any reports from the spyware would be stored.

  Joe glanced over his shoulder at Evie. Then he stood up and twirled his chair around to face her in one swift move.

  “So, what will happen now?” she said gesturing toward the glowing screen.

  “It will give us a report, but it covers its tracks well. It may take a bit of time.” He smiled.

  “How long?”

  “It depends.”

  “So, have you heard anything from your investigator?” she asked.

  “Not yet. But, he’s on the case.”

  “Will this guy follow Alan? Try to spy on him?”

  “I’ve found it’s better not to ask how he gets the information, but it has always proven to be reliable. And as far as I know, he’s never been caught in the act.”

  “And you don’t think Alan will be aware that he’s being investigated?”

  “No, Eves. I don’t want you worrying about that.”

  “Okay.”

  She stood and walked over toward the computer screen, watching a flow of indecipherable text scroll northward.

  Joe minimized the process on the screen and brought up an Internet browser. He began typing in commands and Evie came over and watched over his shoulder. He pulled up a government site where competitive bid results were posted. He scrolled through a recent list and conducted site searches for any reference to Gerais Chevas, GC Quadra or Quadra Numbers software and received successive NOT FOUND messages. He then looked through competitive bidding solicitations for which bids were still being collected. Nothing. Then he searched post-award status records. Nothing.

  Evie sighed, gazing at the screen.

  “It looks like GC Quadra hasn’t recently won any U.S. government contracts,” she said.

  He continued to study the screen. “No award postings.”

  “GC Quadra has licensed their software to governments around the world. Why not the U.S.?” she asked.

  “Statistical software. That’s their expertise, right?

  Joe continued to search other government and related sites. As he worked, he turned his head toward her slightly as he spoke.

  “You know,” he said, “government contracting can be a dirty business. Did you ever hear of Operation Ill Wind?”

  “No, what’s that?”

  “It was the largest investigation of Pentagon fraud conducted between 1986 and 1990. A Pentagon official was caught … well, he was caught engaging in an illegal activity.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Anyway, to avoid jail, he became an informant, and secretly recorded hundreds of conversations with weapons contractors. Something like ninety or more companies and individuals were convicted of felonies. Some big contractors like Unisys were either convicted or admitted wrongdoing.”

  Evie said nothing, but was listening as she watched him type.

  He kept typing and continued, “I don’t know the specifics of any one company’s violations, but there were allegations of padding bids, inflated billings, trafficking in classified documents, and the payment of bribes.”

  “Bribes?” She stood up, turned her head and stared out the window, as if the payment schedule from file Neon Three was floating outside in the air. The image disappeared. “Aren’t there watchdog organizations that, well … watch?” she asked.

  “Yes. And some of them have proven very effective. Some cases of fraud have actually been brought to light through their actions.” He turned back to his computer and continued speaking.

  “And government contracting is a very lucrative business. Some estimate that military spending alone exceeds four hundred billion dollars a year.”

  Evie began to walk around in the hotel room, partly to aid her thinking, partly due to nervous energy.

  Joe suddenly looked up from his screen and turned toward Evie. Evie stopped walking and looked expectantly at him as he spoke, “I wonder if Senator Arbeson sits on the appropriations committee and is doing a sole-source deal under the table.”

  “What’s a sole-source deal?” she asked.

  “Sometimes a Federal agency decides to award a contract to a particular contractor, sort of side-stepping the Federal Regs that require such government projects to be offered on a competitive basis, or in other words, to the lowest bidder.”

  “You mean handing a government project to Gerais Chevas?”

  “Yes. Effectively, yes. And,” he paused, “it’s possible that there’s not even a real project.”

  “Oh my God! Are you suggesting blatant fraud? Could Senator Arbeson be involved in that?”

  “Anybody’s guess. I just think something more’s at stake here for such a large commission.”

  “You mean like $25 million,” she said. “I wonder who’s in line for this.”

  Joe stood and walked over to the mini-bar and opened a beer.

  Evie began pacing again and said, “I feel like we’re searching for the proverbial needle-in-a-haystack.”

  “Speaking of searching, have you checked to see if any further detail has been added to any of those Schedules?”

  “No, I haven’t. Let’s check.”

  She opened her laptop and Joe connected the cables and plugged a telephone line into her modem. Evie logged into her firm network, called up the fourth Project Neon file and entered the password. She scrolled down to page twelve and they stared at the screen. Under the heading, “SCHEDULE B7”, text had been substituted for “TBD.”

  In my capacity as attorney for seller, Gerais Chevas, in the above entitled transaction, I ________________ hereby agree to serve as escrow agent (“Agent”) for the receipt and distribution of Software, as defined under the Purchase Agreement. Further details for said Agent roles shall be agreed between the parties.

  There were a few additional paragraphs describing the parameters that would govern the role of the escrow
agent. It was all fairly standard legalese with no specific identities or logistics mentioned. There was blank space and at the bottom, there was a place for a signature, with nothing else on the page.

  Evie spoke first.

  “It’s benign. There’s nothing illegal in the role the attorney is asked to assume.”

  Out of curiosity, she tried editing the file and was allowed, so her access parameters to these files had been changed, presumably to prevent her from denying that she had created them.

  “It doesn’t seem to be a finished document,” said Joe.

  “Yes, and the players think I’m the one who’s going to finish it! I wonder if the terms have been fully negotiated at this point, but not yet drafted into the language.”

  “That’s entirely possible. Levenger may have figured out you’re investigating. With the heat turned up on him, he might have just thrown this out there to cool things down. A red herring just to keep you from making an issue out of these files.”

  “Or this could just be a straightforward deal, perfectly legal. The role of escrow agent is fairly well understood. Standard. I can’t believe it. I was sure there was going to be something unethical or illegal … but wait. There’s still a $25 million payday for somebody.”

  Joe nodded at the screen and Evie brought up “Neon Three.” The payment schedule remained unchanged with the commission glowing on the screen as if daring them to question its legality.

  “Eves, there are still plenty of unanswered questions. For one thing, Alan hasn’t owned up to drafting it.”

  “I don’t know that yet. Maybe it is just a normal transaction and I’ve let my imagination run wild. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “But, what about all these layers of security? A software escrow is not usually confidential. And, this woman who called you. She contacted you directly, clearly claimed that there was a problem, and set up a secret meeting to tell you about it. Doesn’t sound so clearly above-board, does it?”

  “No. I didn’t tell you before, but I got this call before I left to meet her. A man’s voice told me not to go through with the meeting.”

  “Eves, you’ve got to level with me. What else did he say?”

  “That’s it. He said I’d been busy, as if he knew I’d been investigating. He warned me not to meet her and hung up.”

  “Is that everything? Are you holding back anything else?”

  “Only that I saw a woman being loaded into an ambulance a few blocks from the location of our planned meeting. She looked to be lifeless. And she matched the description of the woman who was supposed to meet me.”

  26

  Will you talk to the feds? Eves, there’s enough here for them to launch an investigation. I think it’s time to tell them everything we know.”

  “But what do we know? I mean with certainty. We know that this deal has had an odd evolution, is more secretive than most and that someone has erroneously named me as its participant or even director. But this commission remains a mystery. I still don’t have any hard evidence that it’s a violation of the law and that it’s Alan’s handiwork, or that the Senator’s involved. I can’t prove I’ve been contacted by anyone for anything more sinister than the furtherance of the players’ own personal agendas. Those emails you intercepted can’t stand alone and we don’t have clean hands as to their discovery. And now it appears under the new Schedule B7, that Project Neon is nothing more than a promise to act as an escrow agent.”

  “But you have to admit, the fact that it’s so over-lawyered fans the flames of suspicion,” said Joe. “I’m no attorney, but the drafting seems like a shell game. Just to establish an escrow agency? If that’s all Project Neon ever was, why the secrecy and the code name? Why not just say so in the main agreement?”

  “You’re absolutely right. It is terrible drafting. But bad drafting and sloppy handling of a deal are not illegal. I’ve seen some terrible things patched together in the eleventh hour to get a deal closed,” she shrugged. “And, I still can’t prove Alan’s pinning this on me. Why would an FBI agent believe my story if my own firm didn’t? And I would be betraying the firm, and the firm’s client.”

  “I don’t see that the firm has done you many favors.”

  “Not yet, Joe. I want to dig a bit deeper—at least determine if there is a government contract involved somehow.”

  One of the government billboards was still blinking on Joe’s laptop screen. He clicked on the icon at the bottom of the screen to maximize the window displaying the spyware’s progress. The screen was suddenly flooded with a jumble of character strings showing Internet searches, keystrokes and emails Alan had typed on his computer. They both moved closer and scanned the list in silence. Joe spoke first this time.

  “Eves, I should have warned you. This spyware program captures everything, backspaces, returns, everything. In order to be unobtrusive and invisible, it can’t be a selective gatherer. It just captures everything and dumps it. We’ll have to search through to find anything relevant.”

  “So, every keystroke Alan hits is on here?”

  “Yes, but he has to be connected to the Internet for it to send back the data dump so it might be slightly out of sync with real-time.”

  “Wow.” She let her eyes scan, looking for a collection of keystrokes invoking Gerais Chevas, Project Neon or anything that might be remotely related.

  “I just sent the software to him today so, depending on how active he is building this transaction, it might take some time to capture something incriminating.”

  “It’s quite voluminous,” she said as Joe scrolled through screen after screen of typed phrases and keystroke responses.

  “What’s this?” asked Joe.

  “Bottom line. Five pop on Greta in Oct Cult. Approval on text and placement. In exchange for exclusive upon release of Death.” Evie read an entry Joe was pointing to with his mouse. “Oh, that’s probably an email he sent in a negotiation for mentions in the magazine, Culture. Publicity. Alan represents that actress Greta Bayless and she has a movie coming out during the Christmas season. I think it’s called Death by Association. He’s asking for her name to be mentioned five times in the October issue, with approval rights over the copy and where it appears in the magazine. In exchange, he’s offering the magazine an exclusive interview with Greta after the movie comes out.”

  “Here’s another interesting email,” said Joe, reading from the screen, “Meet you at ChicaLicious at 10p for fromage blanc island cheesecake and some PRIVATE cheesecake. Sent to some ‘chick’ named ‘fire&icewoman.’”

  “I find it amazing that women respond to him, but some do.”

  “Look at this one: $50 billion mkt. Wouldn’t you like a piece? For a few months of shuffling bureaucratic paperwork and dancing the tango.”

  “I have no idea what that one’s about,” said Evie.

  “This guy is a real class act,” said Joe, scrolling down a page.

  Evie smiled at her ally.

  “Nothing must’ve happened with the deal today,” she said.

  “So, you’re sure you don’t want to alert the feds?”

  “Yes, not quite yet. I want to see if I can get an audience with Hanover. In person. I need to find out what the partnership decided. How they’re going to deal with Alan. I feel I owe them that. And, the truth is Joe, if Alan succeeds in tipping the partnership in his favor on Chicago, I will know I have very little chance of convincing them of my innocence on Project Neon.”

  Joe stood and walked to the window.

  “Okay, Eves, we’ll do it your way, but I want you to stay with me tonight. I won’t be comfortable with you sleeping alone in that apartment.”

  “I have to go on as if everything is normal. They’re apparently aware of what I’m doing. I have to proceed as if I don’t realize I’m being watched. I have to sleep in my apartment.” She stood up and looked in his direction. “But I would feel safer if you slept there, too.”

  “Done.”

  �
��Do you mind sleeping on my sofa?”

  “No. Not a problem.”

  “How long will you be in town?”

  “I’m here as long as I want to be. I’ll work from New York. Normalcy. Just a slight variation.”

  Joe walked over to her from his stance at the window. He embraced her, but she pulled away slightly.

  “Eves, what’s wrong?”

  “Things feel different.”

  “Sandra?”

  “Joe, I can’t deny I’m confused.” She managed a half-smile. “I honestly don’t know what it is I’m feeling.”

  “I understand. I know it complicates things, but I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I can’t possibly know how I’m going to feel when this baby is born.”

  “Let’s wait and see.”

  She nodded and began disconnecting her laptop.

  “Eves, I do need to make some telephone calls before I leave the hotel. Why don’t you relax on the sofa, or better yet, why not take a hot bath? Five star bathroom. I won’t be long.”

  “I’m going to go back to my apartment. You can just come over whenever you’re finished, okay?”

  “You’ve been threatened over the telephone and you think the person you were supposed to meet was murdered. There’s no way to measure the risk you’re taking walking around alone.”

  “You’re coming right behind me. It’s not dark yet. There are people everywhere. I’ll go straight home.”

  Hours later, Evie was lying in bed listening to the faint sound of Joe’s steady breathing as he slept on the sofa. It was comforting for him to be there, but she was now haunted by more than just Project Neon—what kind of relationship could she have with Joe if Sandra gave birth to his child?

  ~~

  Evie walked to her office the next morning, her deflated spirit slightly more buoyant.

  She stuffed a file into her briefcase for a morning meeting with a non-Alan client, Cardinal Blue, as Helen appeared in her doorway.

 

‹ Prev