by Tom Fowler
In most server racks, the keyboard sits on rails, and this one was no exception. I slid it out and lifted the console screen. A login prompt greeted me. I had no idea what credentials would get me in. The contents of my flash drive could help, though I figured it would take a while. I looked at the equipment. How often did someone come here to login? Most administrative work could be done remotely. People frequently wrote down passwords and left them in easy-to-find locations. I wondered if Eddie or his people took the lazy way here.
Peering into the rack, I saw no Post-it notes or papers slid beside, atop, or behind anything. I stepped back, crouched, and looked at the bottom of the keyboard. Taped to the bottom was a small piece of paper with a single string of characters on it. M1nn3s0taF@ts! I smiled. Sometimes, the universe made things a little easier. I noted the strong password, which was good but completely defeated by leaving it someplace a scofflaw like me could find it.
Whoever left the note didn’t record a username, but these are usually standard. I tried root and Eddie without success before the system accepted admin. From the home screen, I had access to all attached storage, which added up to over a hundred terabytes. I wondered how many companies’ data still resided here. When Eddie’s business shuttered, did he simply keep it all? Businesses have grown much smarter about the cloud and information management over the years, but some outsourced it and forgot about it. Was Eddie—or now Arash—trying to make money from something else on a hard drive here?
I pushed those thoughts out of my head. I came here for specific data, and I went about searching for it. The top menu was organized by storage device ID, but subsequent levels showed a more conventional file manager. Presuming Eddie and his crew organized the information competently—and considering what he used it for, I felt confident they did—it shouldn’t take a lot of effort to find it.
It didn’t, but it did take time to comb through all the various media. I found what I wanted in a folder called JHCPD. Inside were investigative notes from incidents minor and major, including a sexual assault with several alleged perpetrators which ended up going nowhere. A dedicated email subfolder revealed messages from the administration to the police, telling them this needed to go away, and the whole thing would be taken care of.
I connected my flash drive, configured it via the console, and copied the data I needed. Once completed, I disconnected, returned to the main menu, and changed the password on the admin account. Screw Eddie and Arash. If they or their minions wanted to make money off data they were holding hostage, let them work for it.
Back at my office, I copied the contents of the flash drive to my PC’s hard drive plus a couple different online repositories I use. It would be too melodramatic to automate delivery in the event I died, but the ham in me thought about it for a second. I looked over the trove of information when the elevator bell sounded from down the hall. The footsteps approaching were heavier than my last visitor’s. I unholstered my gun and held it, resting my hand on the desktop.
Eddie Ferrugia edged his head through my outer door. I raised the gun, and he disappeared. “I came for help,” he said.
“I helped you already.”
“I think I could use someone like you right now.”
“Too bad,” I said. “I’m still cleaning up the mess you and your asshole friends made at Hanson.”
His face appeared in the doorway again, and he showed me his empty hands. “Can I come in?” He paused when I didn’t say anything. “I’m unarmed.”
“I’m not.”
“I told you . . . I need your help.”
“What are you doing out of jail, Eddie?”
“I made bail,” he said. “Can we talk about it in there?”
I set the pistol on the desktop within easy reach if I wanted it again. “Fine.” I closed the lid on my laptop. Eddie walked in and sat in a guest chair. He looked around, including over his shoulder a couple times. His knee bounced up and down.
“I need to get out of town,” he said after a moment of silence.
“So go. I’m sure you have a GPS on your car. You don’t require my help.”
He shook his head. “I need to get away. Start over.”
“How’d you make bail?” I said.
“I told the truth. Sure, I did some shit . . . helped the college cover up the rape. It’s my alma mater, y’know? I couldn’t watch the athletic department get destroyed.”
“Yeah. Heaven forbid we have some accountability for a terrible crime.” He frowned. “You’re not endearing yourself to me, Eddie. Considering everything you’ve done, I’m pretty sure I could shoot you and only have to pay to get the carpet steam-cleaned.”
“I heard Arash got arrested.” I said nothing and confirmed equally as much. “He was always pushing me to do more. Said we could get another college involved, too. He was working on ways to shave points in football. Arash mighta looked like a wuss and a geek, but he wanted to go after the money hardcore.”
“You didn’t want to kidnap Iris?”
“No.” His head wagged side-to-side. “No way. I didn’t want to take the chance of hurting some kid.”
“You seemed pretty committed to the cause on the phone.” I leaned back in my chair and studied Eddie for a reaction.
His eyes drifted to the gun, which still lay a couple inches from my hand. Considering the width of the desk, he wouldn’t have a chance to grab it before I could. I also didn’t think he’d try. Eddie was in a bad spot. He wouldn’t risk whatever I could do for him by shooting me. He looked up at me. “Can you get me out of town?”
“I already gave you some advice there,” I said. “You just need a car, a phone, and gas money, and I’m not helping you with any of those three.”
“I told you . . . I gotta start over.” He ran a hand through his hair. Eddie’s knee, which had been still for a few minutes, bounced anew. “Look, I know you’re tight with Tony Rizzo.” I offered no reaction. “You tried to play it coy, but I figured it out.”
“You’re worried Tony’s going to come for you?”
“He already tried once.”
By now, Tony probably knew Eddie was back on the street. I wondered if Bruno and an SUV full of goons would be rolling up any minute. “You weren’t followed, were you?”
“No. I was careful.”
I couldn’t help Eddie disappear, but Joey could. My concern was Tony finding out. Like me, Joey wanted to stay on the good side of Tony’s ledger. After our chase through Glen Burnie, I wasn’t sure of my standing. One of these days, I would go face my family’s old associate. I would not, however, involve my best friend in this. “There’s a guy I hear can help you,” I said after some consideration.
Eddie smiled for the first time since he arrived. Probably the first time in a while. “Great. When can he start?”
“It’s up to him.” I pointed at Eddie for emphasis. “I know someone who’s an expert at this sort of thing, but I’m keeping him out of it. I don’t trust you as far as I can dropkick you. If Tony’s goons shoot you, it’s no loss, but I’m not bringing my friend into this.”
“I get the scraps, then?”
“You’re lucky you’re not getting a bullet,” I said. “There’s a guy on Howard Street. Runs a small photo studio near the Arena. He makes fake IDs . . . good ones, from what I hear. They’ll get you out of town.”
“Thanks. I owe you.” Eddie stood and offered his hand.
I looked at it but didn’t shake it. “Yeah. You do. Repay me by fucking off and never coming back.”
Eddie smirked and left. I texted Joey and gave him a heads-up. Hopefully, this would be the last time I would need to deal with Eddie Ferrugia.
Chapter 28
Once I banished Eddie from the office, I sent Jessica a link to the treasure trove of documents I pilfered. It came from an anonymous email address, of course, and the link and repository couldn’t be traced back to me. Jessica would know what to do with it all, and I trusted her to keep me out of it.
“I’d like to say I taught you well, but I don’t think you learned this from me.”
“I didn’t. I looked over everything you sent . . . and oh, my God.” She paused for a breath. “The shit is going to totally hit the fan.”
“You’re running it?”
“I’d written the skeleton of the story already,” she said. “I knew you’d come back with the good stuff.”
“I do my best,” I said. “When’s it coming out?”
“Should hit the six o’clock news tonight.”
“Have you contacted the college?”
“Someone did. Asked in general terms, I think. We didn’t want to tip them off. We haven’t heard anything yet.”
“You have anyone on site?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Not a news van . . . too obvious. We have a producer on campus keeping an eye on the administration building.”
“It’s going to be great. Let them all twist in the wind.”
“This is a good scoop, C.T. No other station appears to be on to it.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure not to credit you in my awards speech.”
“I think we can figure out a way to work me in by then.”
“I have to go. Keep an eye on the news this evening.”
“I will.” We hung up. I drummed my desktop, finishing with a flourish. This was great. The Hanson administration prioritized athletics and boosters over a traumatized young woman. Let them pay for it—first in the court of public opinion, then legally. Iris was safe. Calvin didn’t have anyone looming over him anymore. Denise could afford her next round of treatment.
Not bad for a few days’ work.
I thought about Eddie getting out of town. Joey would take care of him. Unless Eddie did something stupid wherever he resurfaced, he wouldn’t need to look over his shoulder.
Did I?
I helped Eddie get away from Tony’s men. They must’ve known it was me. By now, word probably made its way to Tony. If he was back in town. He wasn’t the type to call or stop by. I would need to go see him and hope I didn’t get dragged into the kitchen and shot.
Might as well get it over with.
I parked about a block from Il Buon Cibo. The doors reopened for dinner about five minutes before. I got the feeling Tony wouldn’t be feeding me tonight, if he were even here. Bruno might try to feed me a bullet. I didn’t wear a gun, but I’d taken the precaution of putting my bullet-resistant vest on under my jacket.
When I walked in, the maitre d’ gave me the same neutral expression as before. Not a good sign. Tony sat at his table again. As I walked closer, I saw he looked a little better. More color returned to his face. He stared at me as I approached. Bruno glowered with open hostility. “Good to see you’re doing well, Tony,” I said.
Bruno leaned closer. “You got some nerve showing your face in here.”
“All’s well that ends well.” I gestured to the open chair. Tony offered as small a nod as possible.
“What happened?” he said as soon as I sat. “Bruno tells me you came to him with a problem. Then, you prevented him from solving it.”
It was certainly one interpretation of events. Arguing about it wouldn’t get me anywhere, though. I needed to spin it in my favor. “I think the solution he tried to bring about would’ve caused more problems.”
Before Bruno could protest, Tony silenced him with an upheld hand. I noticed the prominence of the bones and liver spots. He may have improved somewhat, but he still appeared unwell overall. “Explain.”
“Like I told Bruno, a young child was missing. At the time, the guy I went to visit was the only one who could tell me where she was.”
“You woulda found her eventually,” Bruno said. Tony glared at him. He frowned and studied the tablecloth.
“Could you have found her eventually?” Tony asked.
“Probably,” I said. “It may have been a long time, though. Days. She wasn’t exactly staying with an early childhood development specialist. Eddie told me who took her. From there, I was able to find her and get her back.”
“What about Eddie?”
“What about him?”
“Where is he, goddammit?” Tony’s face reddened. This was the loudest I’d heard him conversing at this table.
“I don’t know. I dropped him off with the county police.”
“He made bail,” Bruno said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know where he is.” Which was true. If Eddie were smart, he’d be holed up somewhere no one would think to look for him. Then, Joey would set him up with a new identity far away.
“You lying to me?” Tony said.
“No.” I met his stare. “I don’t know where he is. I needed him alive, which is why I got him out of Glen Burnie. If you want to go after him now, I’m not going to stop you.”
“Mighty nice of you.”
I didn’t say anything. We sat in silence for a minute. I rarely get uncomfortable in these situations, but it felt awkward, especially being across the table from two people who didn’t like me much at the moment. The vest felt heavy around my torso. I forced myself to inhale, pushing my chest against the resistance and weight, then exhale. Tony jerked his head toward the door. “Hit the road. I don’t want to see you for a couple weeks.”
“That’s it?” Bruno said, pointing at me. “After what he did?”
Tony glared at his consigliere. “I don’t like how it happened, but I think he had a good reason.” He glanced back to me. “I think we’ll be all right. For now, get out of here.”
“Take care, Tony,” I said. “Bruno.”
Neither of them said anything as I left. The next time I remembered breathing, I sat in the Caprice.
As I drove away from Little Italy, Melinda called and asked me to come by the Nightlight Foundation’s headquarters. It was not on the way home, but it wasn’t far, so I said I would. For a day where I really didn’t have anything planned, this turned out to be very busy. I parked the Caprice on the street and walked inside. Melinda waited in her office. She smiled when I entered, but it lacked some of the usual wattage. “What’s going on?” I said.
She turned her laptop around. A simple background stared back at me. Davenport. Mayor. It’s time for change. I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Please tell me you’re the Davenport running.”
“I could,” she said, “but I won’t lie to you.” She pivoted the PC back to herself. “It’s public tomorrow.”
“Shit,” was all I could manage to say.
“I figured you’d rather hear it from me than see it on the news,” Melinda said.
I nodded. “So his political action committee . . . the one he setup to find new leaders for the city . . .”
“Found himself.”
“Convenient,” I said. “And a little predictable.”
Melinda nodded. “I wish he weren’t doing it, to be honest.”
“You involved?”
“As little as possible. I told him I believe in what I’m doing here. Helping girls who were in the same spot I was is a lot more important than being on some task force or tiger team. Whatever a tiger team is.”
“He’ll probably work with Gloria, too.” This would make for some interesting conversations around the house. We’d probably have to declare a truce on the subject of Vincent Davenport. I’d be hoping for anyone to beat him, and Gloria would be lining up the next swanky soireé to line the campaign coffers.
“I’m sure he will,” Melinda said.
“Anyone else announce yet?”
“Just a city councilman so far. He’s popular in his district, but everyone in the city knows my father. He’ll have the advantage.”
I didn’t ask, but in a dedicated blue city like Baltimore, only one party registration really mattered. With Vincent Davenport making
his announcement tomorrow, other potential candidates may decide not to bother. He enjoyed the name recognition, and his personal fortune would allow him to outspend anyone else. “At least he’s not corrupt,” I said, trying for a positive spin. “Not in the classic political sense at least.”
Melinda didn’t take the bait. She understood how I felt about her father and what he likely knew and allowed to happen while she was Ruby. “I don’t want to sound like I’m trumpeting the cause too much, but he’s a local guy who’s run a major business in the city for years. He’s put a lot of people to work—people of every race, religion, and all the other factors that matter. I don’t want him to run, but I understand why his committee came to the conclusion it did.”
“I just wonder if the whole thing was a fait accompli.”
“That’s a little cynical of you,” she said with a grin.
“Your father brings it out in me.” So did some of my cases, this one included. “Any other bombs you need to drop on me?”
“One a night is enough,” Melinda said.
“It is. Thanks for the heads-up.” She came around the desk, and we hugged before I left.
Within a year, Vincent Davenport would be mayor of Baltimore. While the position didn’t give him any direct influence over me—my license is issued by the state—whatever effect his policies and hires had on the police department would roll downhill to yours truly.
“I need a drink,” I said to the empty car as I drove home.
I enjoyed one when I arrived home. I mixed a whiskey and Coke capable of supporting a straw and spoon on its own, and I sipped it while I sat on the couch and stared at a blank TV. Gloria texted and said she would come by. I finished the drink before she pulled up. After our usual kiss and hug greeting, Gloria clearly sensed I was out of sorts, so she asked about my mood. “Been a long day,” I said.
“Tell me about it,” she said, sitting beside me on the couch. I recapped the last twenty-four or so hours, leaving out the part about Vincent Davenport. She’d find out on her own soon enough, and I didn’t look forward to the day. “Sounds like you need a relaxing evening.”
