ADX Praxis (The Red Lake Series Book 3) Page 24

“Is this the man you were looking for?”

  Tartelli pulled down the zipper on the body bag.

  Raines nodded his head.

  “May I know why?”

  “There was a concern he was a threat to the President of the United States. Obviously that is no longer the case.”

  “Why did you think that?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”

  “I suppose you will be leaving Canaan County then?”

  Raines nodded.

  “Good. One more thing, may I see each of your weapons?”

  Raines shrugged and pulled his pistol. The request appeared to annoy Reynolds but he followed his partner’s lead. Gaines sniffed the barrel and handed them back.

  “I didn’t think so but I had to check.”

  “Good-bye Sheriff. I trust I won’t ever need to return to this backwater again.”

  The friction between them was apparent.

  “Suits me fine Lt. Raines. Say hello to the President for me.”

  The ambulance pulled away from the curb. The crowd thinned. The television crew patiently waited for Gaines to leave. When he came down the walk a report asked him for comment.

  “A man named Willard Stangl was shot and killed. He was wanted for the beating death of Samantha Quilling.”

  “Is it true he was unarmed and shot in cold blood by the FBI?”

  “No weapon was found in Mr. Stangl’s possession. At this time it is unknown who his assailants were.”

  Gaines was tempted to mention all the federal agencies that turned up at the crime scene but decided his best interests lay in silence. Besides, the reporters must have noticed the suits coming and going from the house. They could dig up the story.

  The reporter tried several more questions but received only a terse, “No comment!”

  Chapter 66

  Ziegfeld worked within a dark room. The windows were boarded over, it eliminated glare on the monitors where he lived much of his life. He was a data junkie who hacked systems for the challenge of it and at times for profit. Sometimes he did it for personal reasons, considering himself a distributor of electronic justice and revenge.

  When his health care premium went up thirty percent he crashed his carrier’s system. He also dropped all the premiums in their system. It was two weeks before the company realized renewals were being sent out with eighty percent reductions. The ensuing news coverage resulted in the company canceling the pending price hikes for that year.

  Ziggy tended to be a-political. He found it possible to be offended by either party. Consequently, many a campaign snafu found its roots in his mind and keyboard.

  As soon as he had access into Clemson’s computer he opened the e-mail account. He addressed an e-mail to everyone in the address book. The text was blank but there was an attachment titled ‘Report on Barton and Grim’. Ziggy figured anyone in the ‘know’ would be unable to resist opening it. When they did a key-striking program would be secretly downloaded, ready to capture the recipients password when it was entered. An automatic reply would go out, bouncing around the globe through anonymous IPO”s and end up in Ziggy’s computers.

  Next, Ziggy opened Clemson’s directory and downloaded any file names that looked interesting. It was a laborious task. However he was worried that if he dumped the entire memory it might signal an invasion. Many systems set a cap on outgoing blocks of data to limit leaks. Necessary caution did not stop him, but it slowed his work.

  He sorted through operative reports and action summaries, spending as little time reading as was necessary to decide whether to copy the file or not. A number of the file names were familiar to him from the news. Those he sent out first.

  Mid morning one of the monitors streaming news caught Ziggy’s attention. CNN flashed a picture of Stangl on the screen. The sub title read, “Wanted spy, Willard Stangl found dead minutes ago. It was unfortunate; Ziggy suspected Clemson’s access would shortly be turned off.

  He began to dump files indiscriminately. It would take hours to sort though them. After a time he cut the connection. He was out clean.

  *

  Claus was irritated with himself. He prided himself on covering the details, but he made a mistake. When Fat Man reported terminating Kurt, Claus should have told I.T. to cut Kurt’s access off. Once Clemson was dead, his access was a hole in the system. But until then, Van de Meer had chosen to leave it hot so it was possible to trace the IPO if he signed in. It was hours before he realized his mistake. Claus ordered the door shut; he just hoped no cows got out. To be safe he ordered a forensic search of the computer system.

  Angelica Stangl learned of her husband’s death, possible philandering, and murderous mayhem on the news. She had thought he was at a conference in Philadelphia. Angelica was at a loss. Perhaps this was part of a sick joke? There was that man dressed like a police officer who said Kim was attacked and murdered. He disappeared. The police denied any knowledge of it. When she called Kim at Vassar, she was fine.

  Her phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom? Have you seen the news?” Kim’s voice was choked.

  “Yes.”

  ”Is it true?”

  “I don’t know. I think so.”

  “I’ll come home.”

  Angelica was puffy eyed when she answered the door. The man at the door was polite but adamant. He was there to take her husband’s computer.

  “But he has a laptop. This is our home computer! All of my e-mail is on it.”

  “We have a warrant. You have been served.”

  The man brandished a paper. Badges flashed. Angelica’s protests were futile. She sat numbly on the sofa as the man quickly opened the computer’s tower and extracted the hard drive. He wrote out a receipt promising it would be returned. It never was.

  *

  Van de Meer’s worst fears were realized. Somebody accessed Clemson’s computer before and after he was dead. The technicians were amassing a list of the files that were opened.

  He considered the possibilities. The FBI was eager to prove the CIA was operating domestically. It was possible they hacked Clemson’s files. But illegally obtained information was hard to use in implicating someone else of wrongdoing.

  It could be Homeland Security, they had no scruples and broad powers to wire tap but why would they take files? What could they possibly know?

  His phone rang.

  “There was no hacking attack on our system. If there was we would find repeated access denied reports. Whoever logged in, used Clemson’s password.”

  Van de Meer sighed. Obviously, Bernie arrived too late. Kurt talked before he died. Claus was certain who was capable of doing that.

  He called information for Red Lake.

  “What listing, please?”

  “Harry Grim Investigations.” Claus jotted down the number she gave him.

  *

  Ziggy sent a package to Barton.

  “Ran a search on the files for the word Praxis. The following seemed most pertinent.

  Edwin Alden Darwin, Abdul-Alim Khalili, Zhou Zhengzhong, and Nadim Wafi. What I read makes me fearful of the government.”

  Harry opened Nadim’s file. It was a classic operation. Pick the target, set the frame, and spring the trap.

  “He’s innocent,” Harry said in disbelief.

  Barton looked up from Abdul-Alim’s file. “Looks like they all are.

  “No I mean Wafi. He’s still in Praxis. There is nothing in here about planning to get him out and relocate him.”

  “Maybe they haven’t got around to it?”

  “It’s been months. And it is clear from this file Wafi was framed, he’s some poor kid who knew nothing.”

  “Well my guy is living in Florida. The curious thing is the Agency took the trouble to note the terrorist threat level spiked at red following his attempted plane bombing.”

  “I thought they dropped that silliness?”

  “They did. But why note it?”

  Harry arche
d his brows, “Maybe that is what they were looking for?” He scrolled back through the file. “Same thing here. Clemson notes that public sentiment for the war on terror climbed fourteen percent after Wafi was arrested.”

  They looked at the other files. Wafi is the only one who seemed to be out of the loop. All the other spies were willing participants.”

  “Yeah but some of these aren’t spy stuff like Darwin and Zhou. Why fake a terrorist threat?”

  “Public sentiment” said Harry. “Frightened people won’t notice their civil liberties being flushed down the toilet. Look at Khalili’s file. He struck just before the last election. I’d bet Carrington’s poll number’s jumped.”

  “You think the White House is involved? If that’s true this is bigger than Watergate.”

  “Somebody cares enough to kill for it. I assume Van de Meer has the answer.”

  “And I doubt he is finished,” Barton added.

  Harry and Barton ate their lunch in the salon of the houseboat. Their guns were never far away. Stangl was the lead story at noon.

  “That didn’t take long.”

  “Maybe he was stupid like E.T. and phoned home?”

  “Nice welcome, if that’s the case.”

  Barton’s laptop beeped.

  “I got mail,” he said jokingly.

  He read the message between bites.

  “Ziggy went back in when someone opened the attachment he planted. Stangl’s address has been shut down. He got into DPIO’s archives.”

  “Did he get anything?”

  “There was a file from 1963. It was electronic PDF’s of scanned written and typed documents. He didn’t get a chance to download it before they pulled the plug.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The whole system went off line. Van de Meer must have realized the system was compromised and took action. Anyway two things caught Ziggy’s eye. The file made reference to a meeting with David Ferrie.”

  “Who’s Ferrie and why did Ziggy find that interesting?”

  Barton shrugged. He went online to Wikipedia and searched, ‘David Ferrie’.

  “Shit!” Barton exclaimed. “Ferrie was a pilot who was implicated in 1966 by Jim Garrison during his investigation into the Kennedy assassination.”

  Harry got up and read over Barton’s shoulder.

  “Look! Ferrie supposedly met with Lee Harvey Oswald.”

  Harry’s eyes ran down the article, “How convenient, he died in sixty-seven a week after the Garrison Investigation story broke.”

  Harry and Barton thought of the implications.

  “Shit if the CIA was in bed with Oswald then history is about to change.”

  “Garrison thought so. Others have, too,” said Harry.

  “Maybe Lee Harvey isn’t dead, like Darwin?

  What would he be, eighty something now?”

  “Not a chance. Back in 1981 a theory was floated that Oswald was replaced by a Russian double after he defected there in 1959. Oswald was exhumed and positively identified by dental records and a scar.”

  “It could have been faked. Hell, they have imaginary prisoners at Praxis.”

  “How do you suppose they do that? I talked to a half dozen guards who worked D block.”

  “Clemson thought he saw his wife murdered.”

  “Yeah but that was a couple minutes, how do you fake something day in and day out for years? Sooner or later somebody is going to realize they are watching re-runs.”

  “Ask Ziggy. He’d know how they do it.”

  They finished their lunch.

  “I want to check in with Gaines. He told me to lie low for a couple days. I’ll see what I can pick up from him.”

  “Wait until I talk to Ziggy.”

  Harry got out two beers and sat down at the salon table. Barton dialed. He asked his question.

  “I’d do it with a random event generator,” said Ziggy. “After all, how much action can take place in a cell? If you video your prisoner for a couple months it’s possible to write a program that pieces individual frames together almost seamlessly.”

  “Could you tell it was fake if you were watching a monitor?”

  “There might be an occasional glitch where small items appear and disappear, it would depend on the focal range of the cameras and how narrow the programs margins. But if it was professionally done it would be tough to spot.”

  “Thanks Ziggy.”

  “You need anything else, just call.”

  Harry shook his head. “It’s like Tom Hanks in Forest Gump shaking Kennedy’s hand. It looks real.”

  Harry fell silent.

  “You know, Eddie Ames left behind notes that didn’t make sense to me at the time. It was a list of random things but he went to great pains to hide it.”

  “What kinda things?

  “Like a shadow in the corner, a missing glass, something on the floor. I forget them all. The list is in my office. I think they referred to objects that came and went on the monitor while Eddie was watching.”

  “But Ziggy said they would be hard to spot?”

  “Sure, until you noticed one and began looking for anomalies. I think Ames found enough to make him suspicious. That’s why he stole the medical files.”

  “And,” Baron said in an ah ha moment, “they were blank because no one thought to carry the hoax that far!”

  After a moment he added. “Seems like a lot of trouble. Why bother?”

  “CYA, cover your ass. Everyone wants deny-ability.”

  “Well,” said Barton, “If the CIA whacked Kennedy, you can see why they might be touchy about us nosing around. But there can’t be anyone left who was involved. That’s fifty years ago.”

  “Family secrets die hard! But if they were involved in killing Jack Kennedy, who else could they have assassinated, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, maybe even the attempt on Reagan?”

  Barton shrugged. “We gotta’ watch our backs. I have an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades.”

  Harry went to his office, Barton tagged along. They drove in Harry’s car because it was less visible than the Hummer. An off road chase seemed unlikely. On the second floor of the Edison building, crime scene tape hung, forgotten, across his office door. Harry crumpled it up and let himself in. The room was hot and stuffy. He opened the window. His answering machine light blinked. Silently, he thought, maybe it’s Paula?

  However, the voice was male not Paula’s.

  “We need to meet about a common interest you have been inquiring about. I’ll be in Red Lake tomorrow.”

  The voice was cultured and cool. It permitted no emotion.

  “We gonna take a meeting?”

  “Can’t see why not?”

  “Might be a hit?”

  “We will have to go and see.”

  Harry found the list. It was as he remembered. Eddie noticed appearing and disappearing objects. His diligence got him killed.

  “Eddie Ames was murdered, but how do we prove it?”

  “Don’t know, brother. If Willard was telling the truth then Speers arrange the accident. They’re both dead. That may be all the justice your boy Eddie is going to get.”

  “I want to nail them. I want my client and her kids to be compensated. It won’t bring their father back but it will make their life better.”

  “Just easier, Harry. Who knows if it will make it better? Money might ruin them.”

  Harry shrugged. “They should get the chance.”

  He closed the window.

  “I think its time to talk to the Sheriff.”

  Together they went down the stairs. It was too easy to be cornered in an elevator. But their caution was unnecessary the lobby was empty. Outside the afternoon sun made the air dazzlingly bright. They glanced around but missed the man in the shadows of the movie theater across the street.

  Barton opened the passenger’s door. Harry was on the street side when the first pop rang out. Barton felt the air rush and heard a pfffft sound as a bullet passed his
head. Instinctively he went for his gun. A second pop followed. Harry jerked and went down out of Barton’s sight. But Dirk was busy looking for the shooter.

  Across the street, the Fat Man pulled his trigger for the third time. Barton returned fire with his Glock. It sounded like a cannon in comparison. He popped off six shots. The glass doors behind the shooter shattered, as the bullets exited the back of the fat man who seemed to giggle and dance, until he went down on his knees, and then like a felled tree he toppled forward onto his face. Large red blotches blossomed on the back of his polo shirt.

  “You okay Harry?” asked Barton as he waited behind the vehicle, his eyes sweeping the rooftops and the street for a second shooter.

  “I’m good. Caught one in the shoulder.”

  Barton edged around the front bumper. Harry had wedged himself under the car for cover. His gun was still drawn, aimed toward where the shooter lay.

  “Took care of him for you,” Barton said with a grin, as he helped Harry to his feet.

  “Smell this.” He put his gun near Barton’s nose. “It didn’t stop me. I still got a round off.”

  “Glad to see you haven’t lost the touch.”

  Sirens sounded not far away.

  “You want to wait or get out of here?”

  “Let’s go I don’t want to be shot by some young kid with an itchy finger. We’ll go visit the Sheriff.”

  “I think we’ll go to the hospital first. You can contact Gaines from there.

  Harry carefully slid into the car, hoping to not get blood on the car seat, but failed. Barton drove slowly away. A block later two cruisers approached, their red flashing lights on and sirens wailing. As they neared, Barton obediently pulled toward the curb as they raced passed. Then he signaled and pulled out, heading toward St. Catherine’s.

  Chapter 67

  Gaines came to the hospital as soon as Barton called.

  Harry’s shoulder was not bad, but push-ups were out for the near future.

  “Red Lake is not your personal shooting gallery, gentlemen,” Gaines said irritably.

  “The guy shot first. It was self defense.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Gaines said dismissing it with a wave of his hand. “What the hell is going on? And don’t try to tell me you don’t know.”