Read Outsourced Online

Authors: Dave Zeltserman

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

Outsourced (19 page)

BOOK: Outsourced
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Dan stared evenly at the bank manager. Brown blinked several times before looking away. “I think we’ll need to talk to other firms,” he said gruffly.

“That’s your choice, although I’d have to think you’d want to resolve this as quickly as possible. I’d also think you’d want the guy who designed the system to be the one looking at the code. But if you don’t care about the public relations aspect of this, that’s your business.” Then to Resnick, “Any more questions, Detective, before I leave?”

“Not right now. I’ll need a number where you can be reached.”

Dan handed Resnick a business card. “This has my home and cell numbers.” As he turned to leave, Brown stopped him.

“I’ll get you a check.” Brown met Dan’s eyes briefly and then lowered his gaze. “How quickly can you start on this?” he asked.

“Right away. I’ll need the full amount up front.”

Brown nodded. “Give me a minute,” he said. After he locked up the security system, he started towards his office. Dan was going to follow him, but Resnick stopped him. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to you alone,” he said.

“Sure.” Dan maintained his pleasant smile. He was amazed at how calm he was able to appear. In reality it was more of a numbness. Almost as if he were on autopilot, reacting without any thought or plan. But still, no perspiration, no heart palpitations, nothing but a flat evenness.

Brown wavered as if he wanted to eavesdrop on the conversation. Reluctantly, he kept walking. After he was out of sight, Resnick asked Dan what he thought. “Could Brown be involved in this?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think he’d have the balls to try something like this. It’s a nice thought, though.”

“You don’t like him much, do you?”

“No, not much. I warned him about the dangers of sending out this type of code to a place where there would be no oversight and he ignored me. I even offered to do the work at a discount.” Dan paused, his amiable smile fading. “I don’t want to appear insensitive,” he added. “I know people were killed during this robbery, but this thing really fucked me over too. I make my living designing security systems. Who’s going to want to hire me after this? All because some incompetent bank manager wouldn’t take my advice.”

“Are people going to know you worked on this security system?”

“Yeah, it’s a small industry, word gets around. Plus I’ve got dozens of resumés circulating now that mention this last contract.”

Dan stopped and let his smile drop completely. “What you asked before about Brown being involved – there is something that seemed odd to me. In my original proposal I had a backup line that would’ve been tied directly to the alarm buttons and would bypass the security system. This way if the system was down for any reason, the police would still be called if any of the buttons were activated. Brown got rid of it. The damn thing would’ve only cost about three hundred dollars a month. I just assumed he made his decision out of shortsightedness, but who knows?”

Dan spotted the bank manager walking towards them. As Brown handed him a check, he made a lame joke about how the bank was being robbed for the second time in two days. Dan noticed that Resnick was looking at Brown differently now, more intensely, and Brown seemed to notice it also, his smug little smile quickly growing strained. Dan told the bank manager that he’d be calling him as soon as he found something and then shook hands with Resnick, who thanked him for his time.

As Dan walked through the bank lobby, sights from the other day rushed through his mind.
The dead girl, the other one squirming along the floor, all that blood leaking out of them
. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to rid his mind of those images. Stepping outside, the numbness he’d been feeling was gone. A tight fist squeezed his heart. His knees buckled.

Damn, it would be something if I passed out right here. What the hell would that cop think?

Somehow he stayed on his feet. Staggering, he made it back to his car, amazed that he had been able to pull off talking to that cop. But as he’d been noticing with Carol, lying just keeps on getting easier.

Petrenko pulled the latex gloves from his hands and dropped them into a garbage bag. Grimacing, he grabbed his fingers and rubbed them vigorously. It had been a grueling four hours.

“He didn’t know anything,” Petrenko said.

“No, I don’t believe so,” Yuri agreed.

“We have lost a lot so far,” Petrenko noted bitterly. “Not only what was stolen yesterday, but all the potential millions we could’ve gained in future diamond purchases.” He stopped for a moment to rub his eyes. “We’ll find them. Sooner or later I’ll get my hands on them and they’ll suffer worse than these Arabs did.”

Petrenko gazed off into the distance, his expression turning somber. Slowly, he looked back at Yuri. “We’ll offer a reward,” he said at last. “If any diamond dealers have come across uncut diamonds, we’ll find out about it. Take care of it.”

Yuri nodded and left the room.

Petrenko glared at the two other Russian men working for him. “Why are you two standing there?” he demanded. He waved a hand in the general direction of where the remains of the dead Arabs lay. “Take care of this mess!”

22

After Dan Wilson had left, Resnick stuck around to try and gauge whether Brown could’ve been involved in the robbery. Somebody inside the bank had to have been. Somebody had given the robbers Petrenko’s box numbers, and it made sense that somebody had arranged with the offshore programmers to put a
backdoor
into the software. Brown seemed as good a bet as anybody. What bothered Resnick, though, was remembering the look on Brown’s face when he had discovered the system was still on after the robbery. To Resnick, it looked as if Brown had fully expected the system to have been turned off. Of course, it could’ve been an act – the bank manager knew where the surveillance cameras were so he would know he was being videotaped – but still it would’ve been a damned good act, close to Academy Award caliber.

When Resnick tried asking Brown why he chose not to have a backup line for the alarm system, the bank manager first got flustered and then indignant. He claimed it was his fiduciary responsibility to avoid unnecessary expenses and that there was enough redundancy built into the system as it was. Resnick tried shaking him on that, but couldn’t get anywhere. After that, he had Brown go over the payments that were made to the Indian contract firm, hoping he could catch an extra payment or some other irregularity. If Brown had used bank funds to pay something extra to one of the offshore programmers, he did a good job hiding it. Resnick decided he was going to have to ask for an audit and he was sure Hadley wouldn’t be happy about that.

When he got back to the station, he was surprised to find Maguire wasn’t there waiting for him. They had separated so that Maguire could stick around the FBI offices and see how the Lombardo investigation progressed, but he should’ve been back to the station by now.

Resnick checked his phone messages. A desk sergeant working out of the Revere station had called about an abandoned car found at the Revere Mall. Resnick couldn’t help smiling when he brought up the owner’s driver’s license from the Registry of Motor Vehicles database. Printing out a copy, he brought it into Hadley’s office.

“You’re back,” Hadley said stiffly. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Take a look at this first.”

Resnick showed him a copy of Gordon Carmichael’s driver’s license. Hadley stared blankly at it for a moment before he recognized who it was.

“How’d you find this?” he asked.

“I was checking around for any abandoned vehicles. This guy’s car had been dumped at the Revere Mall.”

“Raymond Lombardo’s neighborhood,” Hadley observed.

“Yeah, it’s almost as if someone’s trying hard to connect the dots to Lombardo,” Resnick said. “I’m going to head over to the Revere Mall, see if they have any surveillance cameras covering their parking lot—”

“Stop.”

Resnick gave Hadley a puzzled look. “What’s up, Ken?” he asked.

“I’ve had a long talk with Agent Spitzer and we’ve both come to the conclusion that Raymond Lombardo is responsible for the bank robbery.” Hadley took a deep breath. As he exhaled, his round face deflated like a punctured tire. He added, “As far I’m concerned, this case is closed.”

“Has anyone tried to verify Lombardo’s story?”

“And what would that prove? I’m sure his barber is going to say whatever Lombardo tells him to. Same with his golf buddies.”

“We have so many leads we haven’t checked out yet,” Resnick said, shaking his head angrily. “Someone inside that bank has to be involved. If we shut this down now, we’re never going to get to the bottom of what happened.”

“We know what happened. It’s over, Alex. We have the man who did this on videotape. That’s more than enough for me and it should be for you too. Let the FBI finish this up.”

“Ken, this stinks. We’re going to just let the FBI force Lombardo into a deal and watch this case quietly disappear?”

“Sometimes it works out that way.”

“And it doesn’t matter how many people were hurt?”

“Of course it matters.” Hadley sighed heavily, his eyes empty as he stared at his detective. “But unfortunately, not this time.”

For a long moment all Resnick could do was stare back. His voice low and catching in his throat, he said, “What if Lombardo brings a dozen witnesses forward claiming he was playing golf at the time of the robbery? This could blow up in your face, Ken.”

“I don’t believe that’s going to happen. Anyway, as I said, it’s over. A press conference is going to be given at six tonight. As far as you’re concerned, I don’t want you spending any more time on this. In fact, I’m giving you what you asked for earlier. Until further notice, you’re on Viktor Petrenko. Watch him twenty-four hours a day if you can.”

“And what about Walt?”

“He’s to watch that bank manager, Craig Brown, which I believe is something else you suggested.”

“So that’s it, huh? How long are you going to keep us on these assignments? Until the FBI finalizes their deal with Lombardo?”

Hadley tried to smile, but it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. They remained as pale and lifeless as glass. “That’s as good a guess as any,” he said.

23

Later that afternoon Dan was still amazed that he had been able to pull off what he did with that cop. It was like dodging a bullet during wartime. While it’s happening, your adrenaline’s pumping too much to realize how much danger you’re in, how close you are to being turned to shit. Only afterwards does it register. Forget dodging a bullet, he dodged a whole clip from a machine gun. His hands were still shaking when he deposited the check Brown had given him. Thirty-two grand. He still had over four thousand dollars that he had taken from Gordon. All that money should’ve made him feel better. Instead he felt unsettled.

It was four thirty. He didn’t feel up to heading home and facing Carol or his kids. Would he ever feel up to facing them again? Maybe. Given time the robbery could become an empty memory. Something that might or might not have ever happened. He had other empty memories. People he might’ve once known, but was no longer sure of. Even the first girl he ever had sex with. They were both sixteen at the time and had snuck out on to a golf course one night with a blanket. At some level of his consciousness he knew it had happened, but it also didn’t seem possible. He could barely remember it. He could barely remember the girl. Of course, this was different. But maybe over time this could become like all those other distant, vague memories of his past. Maybe years from now he wouldn’t be able to believe this had ever happened either.

Now, though, he couldn’t stop thinking of that dead girl. Or the other woman. When he was driving to meet Brown, the news over the radio reported the other woman’s status as touch and go. He hoped she wouldn’t die. But how would her life be now, after having a bullet rip through her stomach? Would something like that ever really heal?

Thinking about it made him start perspiring again. Jesus, he was shaky. If anyone saw him they’d probably think he had some sort of neurological problem. He needed something to calm his nerves. A drink would help.

He stopped at the first bar he came across. The bartender gave him a funny look when he tried ordering a Guinness and a shot of Jameson’s.

“Are you okay, buddy?” the bartender asked.

“I’ll be better after you bring me my beer and a shot.”

“You know, I’m not allowed to serve alcohol to someone already intoxicated.”

“I haven’t had a drop yet. Honest. What do you want me to do, recite the alphabet backwards?” Dan proceeded to do just that. The bartender lifted up his hands in a show of surrender. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I believe you.” But as he poured the draft, he raised an eyebrow and gave Dan a doubtful look.

God, he wished he could forget the robbery ever happened.Let Joel keep the money. At this point he didn’t care. He just wanted to distance himself as far from that memory as he could. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Shrini wasn’t going to let that happen. Tomorrow the two of them were going to drive to Joel’s, and he knew Shrini wasn’t going to give up on this until he got his cut. Deep down he also knew Joel wasn’t going to give in. The damn thing had the potential for spiraling even further out of control. Fucking Joel. If he would be reasonable, they could move past this. The robbery could some day become one of those empty memories.

The bartender brought over his drinks. Dan took the shot and then sipped the Guinness, trying not to drink it too fast. The thirty-two grand would buy him some time, maybe enough so he could find a job and end up with long-term disability insurance. The beer was in one of those promotional glasses that breweries give out. He held the glass at arm’s length. In bright light he was still able to make out details, even read text on a computer screen, but here in the dimness of the bar the lettering on the glass was fuzzy and he couldn’t make out what it spelled. He wondered how much time he had before he would be unable to function. A year, maybe less.

Next week sometime he would get back in touch with Brown and report why the software malfunctioned. There was no reason to hide anything. Let them think he was being completely honest and above board. The conclusion would have to be that one of the Indian programmers intentionally put a backdoor into the software. Let them prove otherwise. Dan laughed sourly, thinking about how the papers would pick up on the story. Maybe it would end up scaring the shit out of other financial companies that had farmed out critical software. Maybe even drum up some business for him.

That was an interesting thought. He could do more than just scare the shit out of these companies. With a little bit of luck he could create a panic. First thing, write some articles about what happened to Lynn Capital Bank. Fuck, maybe even propose a book about it, detailing the risks to financial institutions and highlighting the case of this bank.

For the first time in a long while Dan felt excited, his mind racing with ideas. All those banks and brokerage firms were going to go crazy when they heard about what happened to Lynn Capital Bank. They’d all be forced to check any software built offshore for possible hidden backdoors. And Dan could do that checking. He could start a software firm tomorrow focusing on that and drum up business with articles and a book. As the ideas swirled in his head, he felt a dryness in his mouth. He looked up and saw the bartender studying him.

“I got to admit,” the bartender said. “The drinks did you a world of good. When you came in you looked like shit. You’ve got your color back. Buddy, you look like a new man.”

“Amazing the recuperative properties of a Guinness,” Dan said with a wink, his good humor back. “How about another round, both the beer and the shot, see if I can get a bit healthier.”

“No problem.”

Dan watched him pour the draft. Then his gaze drifted towards the television set and to the Red Sox highlights. The Sox had been playing well of late, winning their last seven games. While he was watching the highlights, they were interrupted by a news flash. The sound was off, but he knew right away what the story was about. Up on the screen as bright as day was Gordon’s driver’s license photo. Dan felt a sinking feeling in his stomach when he saw that. He had known Gordon would be identified eventually, but realizing it had already happened brought back his uneasiness.

The bartender brought over his drinks. Dan didn’t even taste them. He could just as well have been drinking water, or mud for that matter. They had no effect on him. All he felt was an almost unbearable uneasiness and the urge to get moving. He stood up and tossed twenty dollars on to the bar.

He knew the quicker he faced Carol the better. If he waited too long he wouldn’t be able to do it. On his way home he decided to play it as straight as possible. Sure enough Carol met him at the door, her face both anxious and excited.

“That was Gordon who was killed,” she told him, her words coming out in a breathless rush. “I knew it was him!”

Dan forced himself to meet her eyes. “I know. I was in a bar and saw it on the news.”

“This is so unbelievable.” Her eyes were wide as they searched his. Dan knew what she was looking for. Some sort of sign that this was a surprise to him too. As strong as the temptation was to look away, he forced himself to maintain eye contact.

“Why would he go to that bank?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He was probably looking for work.”

Her eyes were still searching his, almost desperately. “They weren’t hiring, were they?”

Dan felt himself shaking his head.

“Then why would he go there?”

“God knows. He knew I finished a contract with them. For whatever reason maybe he thought it was worth talking to them. That must’ve been why he called the other day.” He shook his head as he looked away from her. “I have some great news,” he said. “This kind of spoils it, though. The bank hired me to examine the software they got from those Indian contractors.

They want me to try to figure out why it didn’t work. Guess how much they’re paying me?”

Carol shook her head.

“Thirty-two thousand dollars. I had them pay me up front. The money is already in our account.”

Dan moved past her. “I know this is kind of weird after what happened to Gordon,” he said. “But we should do something to celebrate, maybe go out to dinner.”

“Thirty-two thousand dollars,” she repeated softly to herself.

“Thank God. I was sure we were going to lose the house. But we can’t go out. You have your phone interview at seven.”

Dan made a face as if he had forgotten about it. “Yeah, well, why don’t I blow that off? I’ve already got a contract.”

“It can’t hurt to have another one lined up.”

She was still studying him, still trying to read something in his expression.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he admitted. “Well, let’s at least have a drink.”

The only alcohol left in the liquor cabinet was a bottle of Kahlua that they had brought back from Mexico years ago. Dan opened it, filled two glasses halfway, then added some ice and milk. As Carol sipped hers, the increasingly familiar tense expression returned to her face.

“You don’t think Gordon could’ve been involved in the bank robbery?” she asked.

Dan almost coughed up his drink. Damn, she was intuitive! He knew she wanted to ask more than that.

“You’re kidding, right?” he said. “This is Gordon we’re talking about. How in the world would he get himself involved in a bank robbery? Come on, let’s be serious here.”

Her soft blue eyes were holding steady on his, still searching, still trying to uncover something. Finally she looked away. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess it was a crazy thought.”

“Yeah, it was.” Dan finished his drink. Without looking at Carol, he told her he had better go prepare for his interview. He could feel her eyes on him as he left the room. As he sat in his study, he felt shakier than ever. If she was suspecting Gordon of being involved in the robbery, then what else was she suspecting? He already knew the answer to that. He had been able to see it in her eyes. A cold chill went through him. He could imagine what she must be thinking – about his phone calls, his meetings with Joel and Shrini, the rash he had had the other day – and how she must be trying to make sense of all of it. Trying to understand how it could be related to Gordon being killed and that bank being robbed.

He felt both drained and anxious. Like he couldn’t move a muscle, but at the same time couldn’t sit still. He tried playing back the phone conversations he’d been having, trying to figure out if she could’ve overheard anything incriminating. He was still doing that when Carol opened the door, her face flushed with relief.

“They caught the person behind the bank robbery,” she said. “They just had the story on the news.”

“Who was it?” Dan asked. He could feel his heart racing wildly in his chest.

“I can’t remember his name,” Carol said, a big smile breaking over her face. “Someone connected to the mafia. I think from Revere.”

As Dan looked at his wife, he could see all doubt was gone. At that moment her smile looked brighter than any Christmas tree.

Th ank God
, he thought,
thank fucking God
.

*

Petrenko had sent three of his men to snatch Craig Brown and was pacing impatiently while waiting for them to return. One way or another he was going to get to the bottom of what happened. If it meant skinning another man alive, so be it.

The television set was on in the background. Petrenko was only half paying attention to the news when the story broke about Lombardo’s arrest. Slowly, he made the connection between what the reporter was saying and what it meant to him. For a good twenty minutes he stood completely still, the wheels spinning in his head, his eyes as dull and lifeless as sand. In his mind he played out the possible steps he could take next, from kidnapping members of Lombardo’s family to having an all-out war with the Boston Mafia. He couldn’t see any of them working. The money and diamonds were lost. Dispassionately he accepted that. The best he could do to salvage the situation was to make a deal for the documents that he had lost.

There was a knock on the door. He looked over to see Yuri Tolkov enter the room.

“Did you get him?” Petrenko asked.

Yuri shook his head, his expression blank. In Russian, he said, “A cop was watching him.”

“Which one, the
zhid
?”

“No, the other one, his partner, the dumb-looking one. The only way to grab the bank manager is to take care of this cop first. What do you want me to do?”

Petrenko thought about it, frowning heavily. “We’ll do it another time. Right now we have more important matters to deal with.”

Yuri nodded matter-of-factly. “I heard the news on the radio.”

“We’ll have to make a deal with the Italians,” Petrenko said.

“Are you sure? There are other ways we could handle this.”

“None would do us any good.”

“I don’t know, we could try to—”

“There is no point,” Petrenko interrupted, his voice low but edged with violence. “We will do what we need to for now, but later we will pay them back. Don’t worry about that.”

Dan waited until seven thirty to tell Carol that the hiring manager must be blowing him off.

“He probably found someone cheaper. Son of a bitch couldn’t even show me the courtesy of calling me back,” he complained.

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