Dark Streets, Episode 5
Friday 20th April 2012
Day Five
10.30am
Leith was already standing outside the hardware store on Constitution Avenue when Stanton’s blacked-out car pulled up at the curb. He took a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and slipped them on to protect his eyes from the bright sunlight glaring off the roofs of the parked cars lining the road. She climbed out of the car and extended her hand to him.
Looking up on Constitution Avenue.
“Good morning, Mr Leith.”
“I think you should start calling me Theo.” She nodded as he shook her hand.
“And what do you call me?”
“Senator.”
“As you wish. Shall we go in?” He nodded and they crossed the pavement to the store’s entrance. It was a small shop with a white frontage and glass counted inside. At the back, a line of attendants stood behind a desk. The bell over the door tinkled as they stepped through.
“Thanks for finding time for this,” Leith said.
“It’s important,” Stanton observed. “And besides, we’re having procedural hearings today. I can leave the Co-Chair to take care of business.” Leith moved towards the desk but she caught him on the arm as he did so. “I put out a press statement denying what I said yesterday, although I’m not sure why you wanted me to.”
“We don’t want Enjoni to realise we’re investigating,” Leith explained. “If your face is plastered all over the morning news accusing them of corporate sabotage at their chief rival’s expo, they’re going to figure out something’s up.”
“But surely they couldn’t react to it, else they’d acknowledge they had reason to be disturbed in the first place.” Leith chuckled.
“What makes you think their reaction would be obvious? Or legal?” She smiled.
“You’re an impressive man, Theo.”
“I’ve dealt with cases like this before, from time to time. If you deny everything, the story doesn’t stay in the news for more than a day. If you don’t deny everything, you leave yourself open to questioning.” He indicated the desk. “Now, let’s get to the bottom of this.”
“I’ll let you do the talking,” she said. They strode up to it. One of the attendants saw them coming and smiled as they approached.
“Hello,” he greeted them. “My name’s Carl. How may I help you?” Leith took out his USB pen and handed it over.
“We believe this pen has a virus on it.”
“Okay. Let me have a look at it.” He plugged the pen into his computer, which sat on the desk, and opened up the files. “Yes, you’re right. There are a number of programs on here which could cause a lot of damage. It’d be safe to use on a PC, though. They appear to be written for phones.” Leith raised an eyebrow.
“No kidding. Can you tell us who wrote them?”
“Unfortunately not, sir. Real life’s not like the movies; people don’t exactly sign their work.” He raised his voice and called to one of his co-workers. “Hey Kate, do we have any of the new Stroud phones in stock? You know, the demonstration models.”
“One moment,” she replied. A few seconds later, she reached over and handed him a handset.
“Thank you,” he said, removing the pen and sliding it into the USB port on the phone. Leith and Stanton watched as he unlocked the handset and began navigating through the menus. As he did so, it locked up. The screen turned blue a moment later. Carl tutted. “Stroud’s coding is closed source,” he said. “This is a very sophisticated virus. It could only have been written by an experienced programmer.”
“Is there some way of knowing who it was?” Leith repeated. Carl shook his head.
“As I said, it’s not possible . . . and even if I could tell you, it’s not company policy. Normally, we just wipe all the software.” He nodded at the pen. “I’m going to have to keep this.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Sir . . .”
“He’s a cop,” Stanton lied, interrupting them. Carl glanced at her, then back to Leith.
“I’m a cop,” he echoed.
“In that case, sir, I can let you have it back. But I’m going to need to see your badge.” Leith frowned. He’d turned it in to Harmon once he had finished clearing his desk out. Before he could open his mouth, however, Stanton spoke for him.
“You don’t need to see his badge.”
“Yes I do,” Carl said.
“No, you don’t. I’m Senator Georgina Stanton.” Both Stanton and Leith knew that, while obviously impressive, her title gave her no power over Carl – or anyone else, for that matter. Carl, however, was evidently unaware of this, for he handed the pen back to Leith.
“Just what are you two doing here, if I may ask?” he inquired.
“That’s none of your business,” Stanton snapped.
“I’m not comfortable with this. I’m afraid you need to leave.”
“We will,” she assured him, “If you answer our question one last time. Is there any way – any at all – that you could tell who wrote the virus?” Carl stared at her boldly for a long moment, then looked down at the desk.
“I can’t tell for sure,” he admitted, “But if I had to guess, I’d say it came from inside the Enjoni Corporation. It’s written in the same style as most of their systems.”
“Is there some way of proving that?”
“You’d have to ask them.”
“We can’t do that,” Leith said, flatly. “Do you know someone who could tell us more?”
“I seem to recall asking you to leave,” Carl reminded him.
“And I seem to recall Senator Stanton promising we would leave. Just tell us. Please.”
“Well . . .” He was clearly unsettled. “I did know someone who worked for them once, but he was fired. Then again, I suppose that might make him more likely to talk to you. His name’s Thomas Myers.” Leith nodded.
“Thank you, Carl. We’ll get out of your hair now.” He pocketed the pen and walked back out onto the street. Stanton joined him a moment later. Her car was still waiting for her, but rather than heading for it, she patted Leith on the shoulder.
“Good job, Theo.”
“I thought you said you’d let me do the talking,” he said.
“It all turned out alright, didn’t it?”
“Barely. Next time, don’t tell people I’m a cop.”
“Why not?”
“Because if that name-dropping trick of yours doesn’t work, I don’t have a badge to show them, and impersonating a policeman is a serious crime.” He sighed. “Anyway, we got what we need. The next step is finding a way to get to Myers.”
“I don’t suppose you have any contacts?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, but I can’t be the one to contact them.” She folded her arms.
“You want me to do it.”
“Harmon could find him, but he’s probably very angry with me. But you . . .”
“He turned the case over to me,” Stanton reasoned. “So I already have an excuse: I’m doing my own investigation. He doesn’t need to know you’re involved.” She reached out and shook Leith’s hand. “Thanks for your help, Theo. I’ll give DCI Harmon a call and ask to meet him this afternoon.”
3.00pm
“This place must be a regular haunt of yours.” Stanton looked up from her newspaper at the sound of a familiar voice, only to see DCI Leonard Harmon standing on the other side of the table to her. She was sitting outside Carmine’s café on 7th Street, in much the same place as she had been two days earlier, when they had last met.
7th Street
She smiled.
“I come here in-between caucus meetings.”
“What was it you wanted to speak to me about?”
“Well,” she said, gesturing to the aides sitting on either side of her, “It might be worth sitting this time.” They stood up and walked inside to stand at the bar. Harmon sat down on Stanton’s right.
“So, tell me what you drew me away from my work for.” She crossed her legs and stirred her cappuccino absent-mindedly.
“I’ve been making headway in the Enjoni case.”
“You brought me all this way for an update?” Stanton pursed her lips.
“No, I brought you all this way to call in a favour. We’ve been gathering evidence to build the case against Enjoni and we now believe there’s significant reason to suspect them of corporate sabotage. As far as we can tell, Enjoni commissioned the writing of a virus to disable the new Stroud phone at their expo, but we can’t prove it’s them without expert assistance.” Harmon frowned.
“And where do I come into this?”
“I need you to bring someone in for questioning. A man named Thomas Myers.” There was a pause, and then Harmon scoffed derisively.
“You think I can just . . . pull someone off the street?”
“We’re close here, Mr Harmon. Very close.”
“That doesn’t justify breaking the law. I would have thought better of you – a Senator, no less. How could you ask this of me?” Stanton shrugged.
“If it were your case, what would you do?”
“I’d bring him in,” Harmon admitted, reluctantly. “But it’s not my case. I turned it over to you, remember?” Stanton sipped her cappuccino.
“Please, just grant me this one favour. I’m making a plea here. If Myers can positively identify that the virus was written by Enjoni, we’ve got an expert witness. We can prove that Enjoni are trying to weaken Stroud ready for their takeover attempt and blow this whole thing wide open. And when public pressure comes down on the issue, people will start asking how Enjoni knew Stroud were going to launch the phone in the first place. The paper trail,” she said, realising she was making a mistake even as she spoke, “Will lead right back to Anselmo.” Harmon’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know this has something to do with Anselmo?”
“You told me,” she lied.
“No, I didn’t. I said we suspected Cassarah Sampson of using illegal means to uncover information for use against Stroud. I didn’t give you any names.” Stanton struggled with her reply for a moment, then realised he’d unintentionally given her an opening to twist the conversation back the way she wanted it once more.
“Come to mention it, no – you didn’t give us any information at all. Why not?”
“What do you mean?” Harmon asked, surprised by the question.
“You only gave me that simple fact, without evidence. What did you want me to do with it? Throw it out at a hearing just to look good? You must have known Enjoni’s representatives would tear me apart the moment I made a claim like that.” Harmon stood up hurriedly.
“This meeting is over.” Stanton toyed with the idea of softening her line of attack, then realised he might get her to Myers as a compromise, a way of shutting her up.
“Not until you give me a straight answer. Why would you do a thing like that?”
“I just didn’t, okay? There was no motive. I just . . . look, I’ll give you Myers.” Stanton’s eyes brightened and she stood up as well.
“You will?”
“Yes, but please understand that I can’t bring him in. It’s not legal.”
“Then what do you mean, you’ll . . .”
“I’ll give you his address.” There was a pause. Stanton knew it was likely all she was getting.
“Done,” she said, extending a hand. Harmon shook it. “Send it to me as soon as you get back to the Station and all is forgiven.”
7.00pm
“So he didn’t admit why he didn’t give you any evidence?” Leith asked, as the elevator holding him and Stanton starting climbing towards the floor Myers’ apartment was on.
“He wouldn’t say a thing,” Stanton told him. “In the end, I got the feeling it was one or the other, and it wasn’t worth running the risk of walking away empty-handed.” Leith nodded.
“You did the right thing, Senator.”
“Will you stop calling me that?”
“What else could I call you?”
“Georgina.”
“How about Georgie?”
“No. Only my husband calls me Georgie.”
“Fine. Georgina it is.” The elevator arrived at the fifth floor of the apartment building, which was situated on M Street between the intersections with 16th Street and 17th Street Northwest, and the doors opened.
Myers' Apartment
They stepped out into the hall. Stanton beckoned to the third door on the right.
“There,” she said, checking her phone one last time to be sure. “Number 603.”
“Here’s hoping Harmon’s intel was solid,” Leith muttered.
“What makes you think it won’t be?”
“I don’t know, just . . . it feels like something’s going on, you know? He’s been acting strangely recently. I can’t help but get the feeling that he’s up to something.”
“Like that?”
“That’s the problem. I have no idea.”
“Well let’s just face our problems one at a time, shall we?” she replied, rapping sharply on the door. There was a pause. She knocked again. It swung open to reveal a brown-haired man of what Leith guessed was about thirty. He was broad-shouldered and generally well-built in every dimension, with a keen, smiling face and dark eyes.
“Good evening,” he greeted them. “Can I . . .” He stopped when he saw Stanton. “Sorry to be rude, Miss, but you bear a startling resemblance to someone I’ve seen on the television.”
“Probably because I am someone you’ve seen on the television,” she observed, reaching out to shake his hand. “Senator Georgina Stanton – from Massachusetts.”
“I know that,” he said. “I voted for you in 2006.” She smiled.
“Ah, so you’re from Massachusetts as well? Whereabouts?”
“Boston.”
“And I’m Theo Leith,” Leith cut in, unwilling to let their conversation spiral out of hand. “We have a few questions to ask you about Stroud Firmware.” Myers’ face immediately fell and he closed the door slightly, as if willing them to go away.
“I’m not talking to anyone. I’ve had enough bother from you people already.”
“Us people?” Leith said. “I’m an ex-cop, Mr Myers.”
“You . . . you are?”
“And I’m a Senator,” Stanton pointed out. “You know I’m here to help you.” Myers considered their request for a few moments.
“Alright,” he conceded, eventually. “You can come in.” They stepped through the doorway, which opened straight into the living room of Myers’ small apartment. To their right was a sofa, facing the TV on the wall, and there was a row of windows ahead of them. Two doorways on the left led to the kitchen and the bedroom. The wooden floor creaked beneath their feet.
“Why were you worried about our intentions?” Stanton asked, curiously, as the door swung shut behind them. Myers thought back to the day Anselmo had had him kidnapped and considered telling them, then he remembered the threat he’d been issued. If you talk to anyone about this, Anselmo had said, we’ll kill you. And we will know if you talk to anyone. We’ll be watching.
“No reason,” he said to Stanton, shaking his head. “I’ve had some strange callers lately. What was it you wanted to talk about?”
“This,” Leith told him, taking out the USB pen. “There’s a virus on it. We believe it’s of Enjoni manufacture, but we’re not sure. A man we talked to this morning said you’d know. His name was Carl. Ring any bells?” Myers nodded.
“I remember Carl. He used to work with me.”
“That fits. Can you help us with it?”
“I don’t see why not. Hand it over.” Leith passed it to him and he walked over to his computer, which sat on a desk by the windows. It was already open; he’d been browsing the Internet before their arrival. Both Leith and Stanton followed him, flanking him while he inserted the pen into the relevant port and started browsing through the files. He picked one to open and a program translated it. Lines of code appeared on the screen. “It’s Enjoni alright,” he confirmed, glancing at Leith and then Stanton in turn. “There’s no way it couldn’t be. Their style is pretty definitive.”
“Excellent,” Stanton said, happily. “That’s the proof we need.”
“Proof for what?”
“Enjoni wrote this virus to take down the new Stroud phone during their expo.” Myers paled as everything slotted into place. He’d told Anselmo, who must have been hired by someone from Enjoni, about the new phone. If it got back to the mob that he was helping the very people who seemed to be investigating the case, he was a dead man. He hurriedly pulled the pen out and stood up.
“You need to leave.”
“Is something wrong?” Leith asked, as he took the pen back.
“No, no . . . just leave, please. I’ve given you all I can.” He ushered them across the room and opened the door for them. They stepped out into the hall.
“Wait a moment,” Leith said, holding the door open before Myers could close it. “I don’t presume you’d be willing to testify before a Senate hearing?”
“Not on your life.”
“Well, is there some way we can prove Enjoni wrote it?”
“You’ll never prove it.”
“So we need you to testify,” Stanton insisted. “You’re an expert witness. You can tell the hearing that it’s of Enjoni manufacture.”
“Except I can’t. I’m sorry. I wish I could help you more, but there’s nothing I can do. Good evening, both of you.” And, without another word, he slammed the door. Leith looked at Stanton, who shrugged, and they turned towards the elevator.
“That’s it, then,” Leith concluded, dourly. “No leads. We’re dead in the water. Without anyone to testify that Enjoni wrote the virus . . .” He trailed off.
“Cassarah Sampson is testifying in front of the Subcommittee in five days’ time,” Stanton said, as the shutters parted and they took their places inside. She selected the lobby from the list of destinations and the elevator began to descend. “With Stroud’s failure at the expo, she can claim they’re taking on water and are ripe for a buyout.”
“There must be some way,” Leith mused. “We just need to think.”
“You’ll have to do that on your own, I’m afraid. I’m going back to Massachusetts over the weekend. I won’t be back until Tuesday.”
“Tuesday?” Leith repeated, incredulously. “But that’s four days away!”
“I know.”
“And Sampson’s testifying on Wednesday!”
“I know,” Stanton repeated. “That’s what I’m coming back for.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“I thought Myers was going to agree to testify. It was going to be open and shut; my going away wouldn’t even matter.” Leith wrung his hands anxiously.
“Do you have to go?”
“Theo, I’m up for re-election in seven months. That’s not going to happen unless I campaign.” Leith sighed heavily.
“Fine, fine.” The shutters slid apart. They crossed the lobby and emerged onto the street, where Stanton’s car was waiting for her. She opened the door and turned to him.
“You have my number?”
“Yes, and you have mine.”
“Don’t give up, Theo. There’s still time. Call me if there are any developments.”
“I will.” Stanton went to duck into the car, then looked back one last time.
“And Theo . . .” She extended a hand. “It was nice to meet you. These past two days have been lovely.” Leith smiled as he shook it.
“They have. Speak to you soon, Georgina.”
That's it for Episode 5. I hope you all enjoyed this update and check back next Saturday for Episode 6! Don't forget to rate and comment!
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