Gideon's Sword (78 page)

“A-Are you nuts?” Barry asks.

“They were our friends! You’ve known Matthew since college!” I shout. “And Pasternak… he took you in when no one else would hire you!”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Was that why it happened? Some business deal that went wrong with Pasternak? Or did he just pass you up for partner, and this was your easy shot at revenge?!” I shove him again, and he stumbles off balance. He’s struggling to get to his desk. His shin smashes into the wastebasket, sending it wobbling to the floor.

“Harris!” Viv shouts.

She’s worried because he’s blind. I don’t care.

“How much did they pay you?!” I yell, staying right behind him.

“Harris, please…” he begs, still searching for balance.

“Was it worth it? Did you get everything you wanted?!”

“Harris, I’d never do anything to hurt them.”

“Then why was your name in there?” I ask.

“What?”

“Your name, Barry! Why was it in there?!”

“In where?”

“In the damn lobbying disclosure form for Wendell Mining!”
I explode with one final shove.

Staggering sideways, Barry slams into the wall. His diploma crashes to the floor as the glass shatters.

Locking onto the wall, he presses his back against it, then palms the surface, searching for stability. Slowly, he picks his chin up to face me.

“You think that was me?” he asks.

“Your name’s on it, Barry!”

“My name’s on all of them—every single client in the entire office. It’s part of being the last guppy in the food chain.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Those forms—filling them out—it’s grunt work, Harris. All the forms are done by support staff. But ever since we got fined ten grand because a partner didn’t fill his out a few years back, they decided to put someone in charge. Some people are on the recruitment committee… others do associate benefits and staff policy. I collect all the disclosure forms and put an authorizing signature at the bottom. Lucky me.”

I stop right there, searching his eyes. One of them’s made of glass; the other’s all cloudy, but locked right on me. “So you’re telling me Wendell Mining isn’t your client?”

“Not a chance.”

“But all those times I called—you were always there with Dinah…”

“Why shouldn’t I be? She’s my girlfriend.”

“Your what?”

“Girlfriend. You still remember what a girlfriend is, don’t you?” He turns to Viv. “Who else is here with you?”

“A friend… just a friend,” I say. “You’re dating Dinah?”

“Just starting—it’s been less than two weeks. But you can’t say anything—”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“You kidding? A lobbyist dating the head clerk in Appropriations? She’s supposed to judge every project on its merits… If this got out, Harris, they’d string us up just for the fun of it. Her reputation… It’d be over.”

“How could you not tell me? Or Matthew?”

“I didn’t want to say anything—especially to Matthew. You know how much crap he’d give me… Dinah busts—Dinah busted his balls every day.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re dating her.”

“What? Now I can’t be happy?”

Even now, that’s all he sees. Perceived slights. “So the help you’ve been giving to Wendell…”

“Dinah said it was one of the last things Matthew was pushing for—I just… I just thought it’d be nice if he got his last wish.”

I stare at Barry. His cloudy eye hasn’t moved, but I see it all in the pained crease between his eyebrows. The sadness is all over his face.

“I swear to you, Harris—they’re not my client.”

“Then whose are they?” Viv asks.

“Why’re you so crazed for—?”

“Just answer the question,” I demand.

“Wendell Mining?” Barry asks. “They’ve only been with us a year, but as far as I know, they only worked with one person: Pasternak.”

62

… W
ENDELL
M
INING
was working with
Pasternak?
” I ask.

The words hit like a cannonball in my gut. If Pasternak was in on it from the start… “He knew all along,” I whisper.

“Knew what?” Barry asks.

“Hold on,” Viv says. “You think he set you up?”

“M-Maybe… I don’t know…”

“What’re you talking about?” Barry insists.

I turn toward Viv. Barry can’t see us. I shake my head at her.
Don’t say a word.

“Harris, what’s going on?” Barry asks. “Set you up for what?”

Still reeling, I look out through Barry’s door, into the rest of the office. It’s still empty—but it won’t be for long. Viv shoots me another look. She’s ready to get out of here. I can’t say I disagree. Still, I’ve been on the Hill long enough to know that you don’t start flinging accusations unless you can prove they’re true.

“We should leave,” Viv says. “Now.”

I shake my head. Not until we get some proof.

“Barry, where does the firm keep its billing records?” I ask.

Viv’s about to say something. She cuts herself off. She sees what I’m getting at.

“Our what?” Barry asks.

“Billing records… time sheets… anything that shows Pasternak was working with Wendell.”

“Why would you—?”

“Barry, listen to me—I don’t think Matthew was hit by that car accidentally. Now please… we’re running out of time… where are the billing records?”

Barry’s frozen. He turns his head slightly, listening to the fear in my voice. “Th-They’re on-line,” he mumbles.

“Can you get them for us?”

“Harris, we should call the—”

“Just get them, Barry. Please.”

He pats the air, feeling for his desk chair. As he slides into place, his hands leap for his keyboard, which looks like a regular keyboard except for the thin two-inch plastic strip that’s just below the space bar and runs along the bottom. Thanks to the hundred or so pin-sized dots that pop up from the strip, Barry can run his fingers across it and read what’s on-screen. Of course, he can also use the screen reader.

“JAWS for Windows is ready,”
a computerized female voice says through Barry’s computer speakers. I remember the screen-reading software from college. The computer reads whatever comes on screen. The best part is, you can choose the voice.
Paul
is the male;
Shelley’s
the female. When Barry first got it, we used to play with the pitch and speed to make her sound more slutty. We all grew up. Now the voice is no different from a robotic female secretary.

“Log-in user name? Edit,”
the computer asks.

Barry types in his password and hits
Enter.

“Desktop,”
the computer announces. If Barry’s monitor were on, we’d see his computer’s desktop. The monitor’s off. He doesn’t need it.

A few quick keystrokes activate prewritten computer scripts that take him directly where he’s going. “File menu bar. Menu active.” Finally, he hits the letter
B.

“Billing Records,”
the computer says.
“Use F4 to maximize all windows.”

I stand behind Barry, watching over his shoulder. Viv’s by the door, staring up the hallway.

“Leaving menu bar. Search by—”
Barry hits the
Tab
key.
“Company name? Edit,”
the computer asks.

He types the words
Wendell Mining.
When he hits the space bar, the computer announces whatever word he types, but his fingers are moving so fast, it comes out
Wen—Mining.

The computer beeps, like something’s wrong.
“Client not found,”
the computer says.
“New search? Edit.”

“What’s going on?” Viv asks.

“Try just
Wendell,
” I add.

“Wendell,”
the computer repeats as Barry types the word and hits
Enter.
There’s another beep.
“Client not found. New search? Edit.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Barry says. His hands are a blur of movement.

The female voice can’t keep up.
“Ne—Sys—Wen—Min—Searching database…”

He’s widening the search. I stare intensely at the computer screen even though it’s all black. It’s better than watching Viv panic by the door.

“Harris, you still there?” Barry asks.

“Right here,” I reply as the computer whirs.

“Client not found in system,”
the mechanized voice replies.

Barry respells it.

“Client not found in system.”

“What’s the problem?” I ask.

“Hold on a second.”

Barry hits the
W,
then the downward arrow key.
“Waryn Enterprises,”
the computer says.
“Washington Mutual…
Washington Post
… Weiner & Robinson…”
It’s searching alphabetically.
“Wong Pharmaceuticals… Wilmington Trust… Xerox… Zuckerman International… End of record,”
the computer finally says.

“You kidding me?” Barry says, still searching. “Where are they?” I ask.

“End of record,”
the computer repeats.

Barry hits the keyboard once more.

“End of record.”

“I don’t understand,” Barry says. His hands move faster than ever.
“Full—Sys—Searching…”

“Barry, what the hell is going on?”

“Search error,”
the female mechanized voice interrupts.
“Client name not in system.”

I stare at the blank screen; Barry stares down at his keyboard.

“They’re gone,” Barry says. “Wendell Mining’s gone.”

“What’re you talking about? How can it be gone?”

“It’s not there.”

“Maybe someone forgot to enter it.”

“It already
was
entered. I checked it myself when I did the lobbying forms.”

“But if it’s not there now…”

“Someone took it out… or deleted the file,” Barry says. “I checked every spelling of Wendell… I went through the entire database. It’s like they were never clients.”

“Morning…” a short man in an expensive pinstriped suit says to Viv as he walks past the door to Barry’s office.

She turns my way. People are starting to arrive. “Harris, the longer we’re here…”

“I got it,” I say to Viv. My eyes stay on Barry. “What about hard copies? Is there anything else that might show that Pasternak worked with Wendell?”

Barry’s been blind for as long as I’ve known him. He knows panic when he hears it. “I-I guess there’s Pasternak’s client files…”

A loud chirp screeches through the air. All three of us wince at the sharpness of the sound.

“What in the hell—?”

“Fire alarm!” Viv calls out.

We give it a few seconds to shut itself off. No such luck.

Viv and I once again exchange glances. The alarm continues to scream. If Janos is here, it’s a perfect way to empty the building.

“Harris, please…” she begs.

I shake my head. Not yet.

“Does Pasternak still keep his files in his office?” I shout to Barry over the noise.

“Yeah… why?”

That’s all I need. “Let’s go,” I call to Viv, motioning her out into the hallway.

“Wait…!” Barry says, shooting out of his seat and following right behind us.

“Keep going,” I say to Viv, who’s a few steps in front
of me. If Barry’s not involved, the last thing I want to do is suck him in.

As Barry steps into the hallway, I look back to make sure he’s okay. The short man in the pinstriped suit comes by to help him make his way outside. Barry brushes him off, rushing after us. “Harris, wait!”

He’s faster than I thought.

“Oh, crap,” Viv calls out as we turn the corner. Forcing our way out to the bank of elevators, we see this isn’t just a drill.

All three elevator doors are closed, but now there’s a chorus of three elevator alarms competing with the main fire alarm. A middle-aged man shoves open the metal emergency door to the stairs, and a wisp of dark gray smoke swims into the hall. The smell tells us the rest. Something’s definitely burning.

Viv looks at me over her shoulder. “You don’t think Janos—”

“C’mon,” I insist, rushing past her.

I dart for the open door of the stairs—but instead of heading down, I go straight up, toward the source of the smoke.

“What’re you doing?” Viv calls out.

She knows the answer. I’m not leaving without Pasternak’s records.

“Harris, I’m not doing this anymore…”

An older woman with jet black dyed hair and reading glasses around her neck comes down the stairs from the fourth floor. She’s not running. Whatever’s burning up there is more smoke than threat.

I feel a sharp tug on the back of my shirt.

“How do you know it’s not a trap?” Viv asks.

Again I stay silent, pulling away from Viv and continuing
up the stairs. The thought of Pasternak working against us… Is that why they killed him? He was already involved? Whatever the answer, I need to know.

Leaping up the stairs two at a time, I quickly reach the top, where I squeeze between two more lobbyists just as they enter the stairwell.

“Hey there, Harris,” one calls out with a friendly laugh. “Wanna grab some breakfast?”