Shadow of Eden (26 page)

Settled back in the van, Joe pulled out, making a slow u-turn in the cul-de-sac, and headed back to their hotel. “Piece of cake.”

“No kidding. No alarm, stupid dog, too easy.” Doug reclined the seat and relaxed. “Just like sweet talking Dr. James’s secretary out of his cell phone number.”

They had already sent the dozen complaint letters. A seedy attorney would file the court papers this afternoon and the Arizona Republic newspaper would be getting a package from a courier service with camera-ready copy, just as soon as the images Doug had in his coveralls got manipulated in Photoshop later today.

“. . . And in two days,” Doug finished his thoughts aloud, “Dr. James will never know what hit him.”

Chapter 55

“M
eet ELLIOTT,” Rachel Desmond said, standing on the carpeted staircase, gesturing to the manned rows of computer monitors in the large, modern, open space below her. Rachel was director of sales for Mallis and Associates, Kirk Mallis’s security company. She was also a stunning brunette with an enhanced bust line that few men could ignore. Today she wore a snug gray pinstriped jacket over a matching skirt that showed her legs above her knees. Her lacy top was sufficiently low to make any man wonder if she had a bra on. She was easily their top sales person in the male-dominated security business.

Her potential client today was Wilson Taylor, Chief of Security from Hale Enterprises, a high tech manufacturing company with a series of patented processes for machining advanced composites. Wilson’s objective was to ensure that the company’s precious proprietary knowledge did not leave the premises.

Wilson had seen Mallis and Associates’ advertisements for several years, placed as they were every month, prominently inside the front cover of Industrial Security Magazine. As his company grew and the need for first-rate security increased, he had finally called them. After a first-class flight—courtesy of Mallis and Associates—Wilson was there in person.

“ELLIOTT,” Rachel purred, “is based on the NSA technology that enables the government to listen and analyze over twenty million international phone calls per day. ELLIOTT listens to every word from every one of your company phones, comparing them against key words and phrases programmed into it.” From their vantage point overlooking the computer room, she gestured smoothly with her finely manicured hands at the glassed-in racks of servers at the other end of the room.

“Those key words are supplied by you, the client, to tell the computer what words or phrases you want searched. We can program as many as you wish.”

Wilson looked impressed. “Nice.”

“Come this way, Mr. Taylor,” she said, holding firmly to his upper arm and guiding him down the staircase to the computer room floor. Wilson breathed in her perfume.

“Words like ‘composite machining,’ ‘patented process,’ the names of your competitors, and the like—as many as you want.” She gave him her warmest smile. “You can even specify phrases or words in proximity to each other to enhance the sensitivity and specificity. Mr. Taylor, no one has better technology than Mallis and Associates.”

“Isn’t this illegal?” Wilson asked, salivating at both the technology and Rachel.

She ran her hands through her thick hair and smiled at him. “Fully legal as long as your employees are using your business phones. We have thirty T-3 phone cables here and can simultaneously monitor and analyze ten thousand phone lines.” She led him through a row of monitors manned by an occasional technician. An alarm went off on one of the screens.

“There goes one now!” Rachel squealed, grabbing Wilson’s arm and jumping. The word “prion” flashed across the screen and displayed other information that looked like gibberish to Wilson. He did pick out a couple of names: Dr. Steve James and Sheridan Labs. The technician slid a pair of headphones on and typed at the keyboard.

“The man monitoring the conversation reviews the last several minutes of the conversation and determines its relevance to your specifications. Any and all communications will be electronically forwarded to your attention for review. You are totally in control.”

Rachel walked on still casually holding Wilson’s arm. “We also monitor E-mail and web page usage. Some of the pornography sites are quite, well, unusual.” She cocked her head at him. “You know, pre-teens doing all sorts of explicit things, large objects inserted in, umm, strange places, girl with girl, and so on. I can show them to you if you like.”

Wilson’s face turned deep red. Rachel had, as usual, managed to get her prospect thinking about things other than objections. “Uh, that won’t be necessary. Thanks.”

“Do you have any questions, Mr. Taylor?” Rachel leaned forward slightly, allowing the upper edge of her black brassiere to show.

“Uh, how much does it cost?”

She rewarded him with her warm smile again. “A pittance compared to your potential loss if General Dynamics gets ahold of your technology.” She had done her homework and knew Hale Manufacturing feared that General Dynamics might get a whiff of their secret technology, which would put them out of business in a heartbeat.

“Are you the man who can decide?”

“I sure am.”

“Good.” She gently leaned against his arm pressing a breast against it. “Let’s go to my office.”

What Rachel failed to mention was the extra service available to Hale Manufacturing at a substantial additional price. While the vast majority of Mallis and Associates’ business was legal monitoring for legitimate clients, the other line of business was highly illegal, but generated almost half the profits—unreported, of course. These clients, including many name-brand companies, wanted extra monitoring. This included listening in on anybody talking on their home phone, cell phone, or through listening devices. If you paid their rates, you could call your target.

And, for even more select clients, Mallis and Associates would arrange other more direct and much more expensive interventions. This was the main reason that Kirk Mallis had formed his company after getting booted from his government job. It made his killing almost legitimate.

By lunchtime, Rachel had closed her sale with Wilson Taylor for Hale Manufacturing.

Chapter 56

S
teve, can you get Johnnie his bath tonight?” Anne called out.

Steve sitting in his study, deep in melancholy thought did not respond. Eden caused prions in nerve cultures. Marty would have wanted to know that.
Eden caused prions.
What would Marty do? Call Trident? Not that pompous safety officer. But Marty was dead. What about all the cases Marty had found?

“Steve, did you hear me?” Anne called again.

He sat up to see Anne standing in the doorway, scowling. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Yes,” Steve answered. “Sort of.”

“Why didn’t you answer?”

Steve shrugged. “I was thinking,” he said lamely.

Anne whirled abruptly and walked off.

He followed her to the kitchen where she was putting away the last of their dinner. Steve realized with a pang that he hadn’t even known they were eating. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you at first.”

Anne turned to face him. “Where have you been this past week? You’ve retreated into your study, ignoring your family. Johnnie just asked, ‘What’s wrong with Daddy?’ I had to make up something so he wouldn’t worry about you.” She slammed a drawer shut. “What’s going on, Stevie, to shut your family out like this? Is it all this Shirley-Eden thing?”

“That’s not fair. This is important. It needs my full attention.” Steve
had
dropped out of his family’s life, which wasn’t like him.

“Why is it that some sick woman in the hospital takes all of your day and your nights too? Don’t we get some of your time?” She rapped her forefinger against Steve’s temple. “Where are you? We, your family, want and need you.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve didn’t feel like telling Anne everything. Not now. He didn’t have the energy. He just wanted to be left alone.

“You’ve treated dying people before. What’s so different now?” Anne efficiently rinsed Johnnie’s dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. She had tears in her eyes. “You don’t sleep, you don’t eat, and you’re chasing this thing twenty-four hours a day, locking us out.” She began vigorously sponging the counter.

Steve tried to pull Anne into his arms, but she pulled away. “Not now.” She pushed him towards Johnnie’s room. “Go take care of your son who wants some time with his daddy before he turns eighteen and leaves us for good.” She tossed the sponge into the sink and walked out.

Just like that, she was gone. She was entirely right, of course. He had been in his own world, except when he read to Johnnie at bedtime and talked to Anne as they were getting ready to turn in. She didn’t understand what he was going through—but was that her fault or his?

Steve stared after Anne, trying to decide what to do next. It was like Eden; he had all the facts, but no direction on what to do.

He looked down and met Kerry’s eyes, his tail wagging expectantly. Steve knelt and rubbed under his neck, fluffing his short fur. Kerry rolled over and put his paws in the air for more attention. Steve obliged for a moment by stroking along his ribs and stomach.

“Kerry, old pal, I’m in the doghouse. We boys got to stick together.” Kerry licked his hand. Steve stood up and went into Johnnie’s room, with Kerry trotting behind.

Chapter 57

J
eff Bell hunched over his computer in an office that was spacious by White House standards. It had a coveted window and, best of all, he did not have to share it with anybody. The bulk of the staff had to shoehorn several desks into offices meant for one, making the West Wing noisy and crowded. The President’s Chief of Staff could close his door, which he frequently did, to make private phone calls and to think. Virtually nobody else had any privacy and that, Bell concluded, was the reason there were so many news leaks.

His phone rang. Somebody had gotten through his secretary or had his direct line. He picked it up. “Bell.”

“Jeff, he’s gone again.” Bell recognized Aaron Davenport’s voice. Davenport was the Agent in Charge of the President’s security detail.

“Shit.”

“This is his third time this week. Wesley’s car this time.”

“At least it wasn’t an intern.”

“Don’t be flip. Can’t you talk to him and get him to stop these sudden departures? We can’t protect him like this.”

“Well, we can’t put the leader of the free world in handcuffs now, can we?” He waited for a chuckle, which did not come. “Okay,” Bell sighed, “I’ll talk to him, but I know what he’ll say.”

“Please do what you can, Jeff. We’re losing sleep over here. We can accommodate nearly everything he wants if he just gives us time to prepare.”

“It’s his new trick and he loves it.”

“Jeff,” Davenport sighed, “we’re all tricked out over here. He’s got men who’ll give their life for him, but he’s playing this game nobody understands. Give me some help. And talk to Lassie. Maybe she can put some pressure on him.”

“I can do that, but I don’t think she knows any better than you do when he’s going to bolt.”

“What do you think’s gotten in him? Was he like this when he was governor?”