Decency (6 page)
“Thanks, Mike, I know you did what you could.”
Kathy put down the phone. The world started closing in.
…where do we possibly turn now…
One of Samantha’s three colleagues who spoke to Kathy and Harlan at the reception after the funeral, Ted Fitzgerald, had a difficult duty to perform. He had to interview Stanley Wadell and it would shorten the man’s career.
Wadell sat at his NSA terminal as a lone, recognized figure approached.
“Mr. Wadell, I’m Ted Fitzgerald with the FBI. Here is my credential.”
…oh God, do they know…?
“Mr. Fitzgerald, I know who you are. You’re detailed here to the Security office. Catching any crooks?”
“Sir, I would like to talk to you concerning your activities. Would you come with me to the conference room, please.”
“Sure.”
The pair walked down the several corridors in NSA’s huge headquarters facility dedicated to Security’s use.
Fitzgerald shut the door behind them.
“Now, Mr. Wadell, first of all you have the right to remain silent in this interview…”
“And if I do, they’ll yank my clearance and fire me.”
“Sir, that is a matter for the management of NSA to determine. It is beyond my responsibility to comment on that. But you have indicated you are aware of your rights. Are you prepared to continue with the interview?”
…pea-brain, I just said I didn’t have a choice…
“Of course.”
“All right. Then I need to have a witness join us.”
Fitzgerald keyed the intercom for the head of Security.
“This is Cindy.”
“Cindy, Ted. I’m with Mr. Stanley Wadell. He has indicated a desire to continue with an interview. Can you send someone to act as a witness?”
“I’d do it myself but I’ll have to send Matt. Where are you?”
“We’re in the Security conference room.”
“He’ll be right there.”
The connection clicked off. “Someone’s on the way. Now, Mr. Wadell, I want to ask if you have any objection to my recording this interview?”
“Of course not.”
“All right. While we are waiting would you please review this form. It explains your rights in detail. If you want to continue with the interview you make an X in the appropriate block next to each of the rights listed. If you don’t want to continue, you make an X in any of the other blocks. Then, after the witness arrives, but not before, you sign the form. Any questions?”
“No.”
Wadell studied the form and completed the blocks waiving all of his rights.
The door opened and Matthew Pearlstein, Deputy Director of Security, National Security Agency, came in.
“Mr. Pearlstein, Mr. Wadell stated that he was prepared to waive his rights. We want you to witness his signature to this form indicating that.”
“Fine.”
Wadell signed and dated the form. Then Pearlstein signed and dated it as the witness.
“All right. Mr. Wadell a copy will be provided to you after the conclusion of the interview. If you change your mind at any time and want to stop or consult a lawyer, please let me know and the interview will stop. Do you understand?”
“Sure.”
“If you would like some water or something else to drink, I’ll be happy to get it for you. And if you need to take a break, just let me know.”
“Sure.”
After the preliminaries of name, address, telephone number, current employer, years of service, job title, and description of duties, Fitzgerald asked the first question of substance.
“Mr. Wadell, is it among your duties to report any discrepancies in the NSA software or equipment…”
…
oh, God, they do know
…
“Yes.”
“Have you become aware of any discrepancies in the recent past?”
“Yes.”
“Did you report them?”
“Yes.”
“To whom did you report them?”
“To my supervisor, Samantha Pierce…well, my then supervisor.”
“When did you report them?”
“When I found them.”
“What exactly were they?”
“They were software programs that were not authorized according to the design plan.”
“Did you report them in writing?”
“No, I wasn’t required to.”
“Did you report them to anyone else?”
“No, I wasn’t required to do that either, I don’t think.”
“Hmmm. You’re of course aware that Samantha Pierce is deceased?”
…and I’m aware she was a smart ass know-it-all…
“Yes.”
“How many reports did you make to her?”
…damn, he won’t give me a clue…
“Two. Well, two different discrepancies. We talked about them a lot more than that.”
“What did you talk about?”
…FBI fool, you’re giving me the chance to pin it on her…
“At first, or the first discrepancy, just about the nature of it. Regarding, the second one, she said we could use it, ourselves.”
“What did she mean?”
“I think she meant to use…to sell access to the data.”
“Are you sure?”
“If she didn’t, would I be sitting here?”
“Did she make any efforts to do that?”
“I believe so. She said she did.”
“Did you make any efforts to do so, independent of her?”
…you stupid FBI fuck, do you think I’m going to say yes to that…
“Of course not.”
“We have certain indications that you did.”
…SHIT…
“Do you still deny that you did?”
“Absolutely.”
“If I were to advise you that we have investigative results, including recordings of your voice attempting to arrange sale of the information…”
…I knew I shouldn’t’ve used the phone…
“…would you want to revise your answer?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Mr. Wadell, is there anything else about these matters that you are aware of that I have not asked you about?”
…like, what am I going to do without a job…
“No.”
“All right. Now, this kind of interview can be an extremely traumatic experience.”
…more like “terminal” experience…
“I encourage you to seek counseling here at NSA or with private practitioners of your choosing.”
“Okay.”
“Please, do that, sir. That really concludes the interview for now. I’m turning off the recording.”
Fitzgerald punched the stop button on his recorder.
“Now. Mr. Wadell, in a sense I’m a fellow worker here at NSA, because I’m detailed here. I spend all of my time here. I know how difficult and stressful it is under normal circumstances. Please, for the good of yourself and your family, get some help. This is not the end of the world. No matter what you think now, no matter what the agency’s management decides to do, you and your family can enjoy a rich life. You absolutely must keep that in mind. All right?”
…yeah, sure…
“Okay. I will.”
“Good. I also want you to feel free to contact me at any time regarding this, or really anything, anything at all.”
“Then we’re finished?”
“Yes, for now. I’m sure someone will be in touch with you soon.”
…you bet your ass they will…
“Before the close of business?”
“Possibly. But as I said. This is far from the end of the world. Get help.”
Wadell left the interview room.
After he returned to his office Matt Pearlstein keyed the intercom for Fitzgerald.
“Fitzgerald.”
“Ted, Matt. I’ve been thinking. I believe we should get a standard wiretap on the Pierce family’s phone. Probable cause may be thin but it’s better than a foreign intelligence angle for their phone right now. If we can get it, we would be crazy not to. One, to check out the possibility Wadell is telling the truth and two, to have the evidence to counter his claim Pierce cooked it up.”
“I agree. If she was in fact guilty, her parents will almost certainly discuss circumstances that would corroborate it…her finances, plans she was making, surprising information they find in her papers. That way, we won’t even have to go the foreign intelligence court. I’ll go to work on it.”
Three days later, Wadell finished his evaluation with NSA psychologist, Dr. James Cochran. Cochran shook his head.
“What are you going to say, Doc?”
“As I told you, this evaluation is not for treatment. My report to management will indicate that you display Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Unless you are prepared to discuss the actions for which you were referred to me, we have come to the end.”
“This is not confidential is it?”
“As I previously advised you, no, it is not.”
…what matchbook cover school gave you a psychology degree, Cochran…?
Instead of returning to his work space, Wadell walked to the elevator, descended to the exit level, and left the building, four hours early, and drove directly home.
…nobody will be back for another three hours…
He punched the remote for the garage door opener, drove into the empty garage, closed the door, and sat with the engine running, and tears streaming down his cheeks.
…they’ll grieve…but they won’t be shamed by a trial…at least this way there’s insurance…it’s been in effect long enough to still pay off…
…all of the effort…all of the time…it all comes to this…
In five minutes, his head slumped forward.
In less than an hour, he was dead, as the engine continued to run.
O
NE YEAR AFTER THE ACT.
…damn rock…must be forty poun’…
“Hurry up. Yo wanna be a ‘Stink’ or what?”
