Decency (29 page)

At first she did not recognize the name.

“I’m sorry…”

“We met at the Ramada Inn.”

“Oh, of course, what can I do for you, sir?”

Still focused on her interrupted work, Bonnie was slightly bemused at Duncan Richardson’s insistence on the use of the pseudonym. His case was probably over with and he could not get very deep in the Pierce case. Immediately, she brought herself up short and felt slightly ashamed. Richardson perceived real risk and she had no right to judge the magnitude of it.

“I tried to call Ms. Hawkins and…they said she was out of town. So…I had to talk to you.”

Richardson’s voice was uncertain, halting in unnatural patterns.

“Go on. I’m listening.”

“I have to leave the case…I’m sorry. Someone threatened my wife and son.”

“What!”

“Someone threatened my wife and son. While she was walking him…he said to ‘Tell me to mind my work.’ He was a complete stranger…he called her and my son by name. It…really scared her.”

Bonnie’s mind raced to find ways to calm him and keep him from shutting them out completely.

“Mr. Thompson, listen to me very carefully. First of all, what that person did is a crime. Second, we are closing in on who probably sent them. Third, when we do, it will help to make your case.”

“I understand…I just can’t…my wife won’t even go out of the house.”

Bonnie was thinking this was one their few witnesses and she was about to lose him.

“Mr. Thompson, I know how she feels. I know how you feel. You have to respect her fears, I do too. This…extortion just cannot be tolerated. It’s the kind of thing drug gangs do. It’s the kind of thing your job is intended to help prevent.”

“That doesn’t help my wife keep from quivering at home alone.”

“I know. Tell her this. As soon as Ms. Hawkins returns, the very minute she returns, which should be late today or early tomorrow, we will come to see her. I promise we won’t try to talk her into anything. We will just ask her about what exactly happened and talk to her about ways we can help her. Okay?”

“I don’t have any problem with it…but she might not talk to you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Well…that’s it…I should go.”

When he hung up, Bonnie stared at the phone. Questions whirled around in search of logic.

…who besides someone at NSA would have done this…? if it was someone there, how would they know enough about the case to know Richardson was involved…? what did this “stranger” hope to accomplish if not intimidation…? if it was to intimidate, why do it now when the NSA general counsel had said there was never any intention to retaliate against Pierce…? but most of all, how did whoever this was know Richardson was involved at all…? could Richardson have let something slip at work…?

She kept staring at the phone, thinking.

…did they really stop eavesdropping…?

Michael Carbajal sat at his desk feeling good. For the first time in the days since Holdredge had chewed him out for putting her in the embarrassing position of explaining to the Chief Judge that her office did not know whether it represented Cochran or not.

“Don’t ever agree to having a hearing if you can’t tell the judge who you represent!” she yelled.

Yelled. Actually yelled, at
him
, the best lawyer she was lucky enough to have on what she thought of as a staff.

…who did she think she was…? did she think she was going to handle these cases herself…? that would be a trip…! she didn’t know the difference between evidence and argument…! next time she yelled she could just have all of these cases… then she can decide if she wants to chase good lawyers away…

…all of these people are such idiots…the whole assistant U.S. Attorney’s job is an exercise in dealing with idiots…the plaintiffs and their lawyers who bring these stupid cases are the biggest idiots of all…this Pierce case is the best example of them all…a Swiss cheese of allegation and innuendo with no substance and no chance of getting to trial…and yet the idiot Holdredge had gotten up on her high horse and actually yelled at him over a piece of junk like this…well not any more…

…the idiot plaintiffs’ idiot lawyers thought they had this big secret weapon… well not any more…the NSA security people had easily run down the identity of the fool that the idiot plaintiff’s lawyers were counting on…well not any more…

…he had just seen to that…a little friendly and helpful conversation with the fool’s mousey little wife had taken care of it quite neatly…what was it, maybe ten sentences…? maybe fifty little words…so perfectly elegant, so…efficient…

…what a piece of junk now…and Holdredge had actually yelled at him about it…well, not any more.

Kelly pulled up to the café, jumped out, and trotted inside.

“Kathy!”

She emerged from the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“Hey, Kelly. Jannie called…”

Kelly stopped her by waving her arms and putting a forefinger to her lips.

A puzzled look settled on her face and she cocked her head to one side as if to ask a question.

Kelly motioned her to come outside then quickly took her elbow and ushered her out the front door and into the middle of the untraveled street.

“Kathy, sorry to be so dramatic. I don’t want to alarm you. This may be nothing at all. But it could be extremely important. I brought you outside because from now on you should assume your phones are tapped.”

“What?”

“Yes. And you don’t have to be on the phone either. You can be just talking within the pickup range of the microphone and they can hear you, assuming they are listening.”

“But why?”

“If they are doing it, and I’m not sure they are, it would be to find out if we have figured out that they are finding things they don’t want us to know.”

Kathy’s anger started to rise again.

“Kelly, you know what I think. They took my girl. I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

“I do know. It’s just awfully hard to get evidence the court will swallow. The disks that I took back with me last time couldn’t be run on any computers. I’m guessing maybe the old portable in Samantha’s closet will run them. I came here to get it and take a look.”

“Well, let’s go then.”

Kathy went back inside and returned with her purse. She didn’t bother to lock the café. She swung her Ranger out from the curb and the rental car followed her down the main drag and out to the farm.

At the back door, Kathy turned to Kelly. “The house phones too?”

She simply nodded.

In silence they climbed the stairs, retrieved the Toshiba and Kelly took it out to the car where the disks were.

She flipped the power switch and nothing happened.

Kathy offered, “Maybe the battery is dead.”

“Do you have the power cable?”

“If we do it’s still upstairs.”

They returned upstairs and rummaged through the stacks of boxes and the rest of the closet. Nothing like a computer power cable turned up.

Kelly motioned to Kathy to follow and they returned to the car.

“Kathy I didn’t see any other computer up there. Is this the only one that you know of?”

“She had one she took to college, a really old Macintosh. I don’t know what happened to it. This is the only other one of hers.”

“Okay. I guess that’s it, then. I’ll take this back to Washington with me and take a look at it there, okay?”

“Sure.” She looked down past the barn. “Harlan’s comin.’ Can you stay for dinner?”

Harlan stopped the John Deere just up from the barn door, turned it off and swung to the ground. He raised an arm and walked up the path, half smiling and half frowning.

“Hey, Kelly. Surprised to see you. Anything wrong?”

“Hi, Harlan. I came to get this computer. I think it might have evidence on it, or might let us read the disks from Samantha’s closet.”

“Well, it will some of them. We had a friend show us how to fire it up. I took a look at those disks. They have some things in English but a lot of it is just numbers.”

“Harlan, are you sure?”

“Course, I’m sure.”

“Did the parts in English make sense?”

“Not to me. They looked like reports of some kind. Samantha didn’t even write some of them.”

“Here’s the thing. This may be the only computer in the world that will read those disks. We tried them on all kinds of computers in Washington and they couldn’t read them. I think Samantha made her own operating system and put it on that computer. So, only it will read the disks. That’s got to be important. At least it means she didn’t want anyone else to be able to read the disks.”

“Makes sense.”

“Makes a lot of sense.”

“Can you stay for dinner?”

“Thanks, but folks, I’ve got to get back. Harlan, I told Kathy I think your phones might be tapped. They might not be, but if they are, we can’t talk about the case on those phones. Do you have a cell phone?”

“We both do. We use Sprint PCS. You’d be surprised how many steps it’ll save around a farm.”

“Great. Cell phone calls are automatically encrypted. If you need to call me, use those. Here’s my cell phone number. Call me only on it. What are your numbers?”

They give her the numbers as she jotted them on a business card to put them in her phone on the plane.

“Okay. By the way, don’t call, even on the cell phones, from inside your house, the café, or even your cars, until I give you the go ahead.”

Harlan held out his hand to shake Kelly’s.

“Sounds good. Thanks for all your hard work. It means an awful lot to us.”

…the right thing…these people know when to say thanks and show it…

She shook Harlan’s rough, solid hand, with a real sense of satisfaction at having earned his appreciation.

Kathy extended both arms, palms up. Kelly returned her strong hug. Kathy clung for a long moment, saying more than she could with words.

Kelly left and Kathy and Harlan went to the cafe to serve the evening meal crowd.

When they have gone. No one saw the figure, dressed as Harlan normally does, walking in the shelter belt near the house. No one observed the figure bury the package containing a Mack 10 submachine gun in the tree line. No one saw the figure enter the house or insert the device behind the phone jack wall plate in the living room, or the figure’s departure.