Chain of Evidence

She nodded. “Chances are, they know what I went after.”

“And did you come straight here?”

Her face tightened. “I shouldn’t have done that, should I?”

“You never know,” Dart said. “It’s doubtful they would have put you under physical surveillance. If it was federal-”

“They would have busted me,” she answered. “You see?” She craned forward, “That’s one reason I came straight here. I’m hoping-hell, I’m praying-that maybe you, HPD, has some kind of white-collar crime thing in place. Because other-wise-”

“It’s private,” he answered.

“Yeah, private. And shit, they could sue the pants off me. I’d rather face you guys than a corporation any day.”

“They can sue you either way.” He added, “They won’t, though.” Corporations rarely sued. That brought the case public, and exposed their system as vulnerable to electronic attack. They preferred keeping things as quiet as possible, often dropping all charges in exchange for a gag order against the hacker. On occasion the hacker got a job offer from that very same company. He reminded, “And you wouldn’t rather face us. You’re on probation. A second conviction-”

“And I do time. I know.” She crossed her arms and shuddered. “I’m scared to death, Dartelli,” She said, “But hey, I got the name of the company for you. At least I didn’t come out empty-handed.”

“The people buying these policies?”

“Paid out of a corporate account under the name Roxin Incorporated.”

Bud Gorman would be able to answer questions about Roxin. Dart wrote the name down.

She said, “I thought you’d like that.”

Dart looked up from his notebook, still angry with her. “Why, Gin? Why take the chance?”

“What, you’re going to get mad at me for helping you?”

“I appreciate the help. It’s not that-”

She interrupted. “I want us back together.”

The building was heated by forced air, and it was the only sound in the room as Dart averted his eyes back to his notebook, and Ginny scratched at some epoxy stuck to the table.

“I miss you,” she said.

“I miss you too,” he answered honestly. “You’re involved with someone,” he reminded her.

“From what I hear, we both are.”

“Yes, I am too. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I am.”

“Abby Lang,” she said.

He had nothing to say. Ginny had left him. What he did now was his business, and his alone.

He said, “Companies have their own computer security systems, isn’t that right? They monitor their own systems for breaches. This bank, for instance.”

“It’s subcontracted usually. Yeah.”

“So if anyone knows about you, it’s them-this private firm or the bank itself.”

“I did it from home,” she said, as always, two steps ahead of him. “All my stuff is on my home machine.”

“Can they trace it back to you?”

“Depends how good they are,” she replied. “How long they were on to me. I had the call switched through New Haven and routed through a Yale web site. Normally they wouldn’t be able to break that, but I was on there pretty long. They might have. Depends.”

“And if they did?”

“They could act, or they could sit on me and go for a second hit. Two or three hits are more convincing … easier to use against me.”

“But you will not go back there.”

“No.” She chuckled nervously. “Not likely.”

“So we wait and see,” he offered. She nodded. “Are you okay?”

“Worried.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“If they’re private, they might watch me, something like that. I think that’s what’s bugging me the most-the idea of that. You know, surveillance.”

“They might,” he admitted. “But if they misstep,” he reminded her, “then you can turn right around and sue them-and that just might get the charges dropped.”

She nodded, but her fear was palpable.

“It’s a thought,” he said. “If you suspect something like that-electronic surveillance, anything like that-you should let me know. Maybe we can turn the cards on them.” He asked, “Are you okay?” She looked like hell.

Again she nodded, but it was all show. “What about it?” she asked. “What about us?”

“Zeller used to say to me, ‘You come to a fork in the road, take it,’” Dart answered.

It elicited a smile from her. A soft laugh. Dart coughed.

“I guess that’s where I am,” he said, “at that fork in the road.”

She pursed her lips. “I understand.”

“I’m not saying no.”

“I understand.”

“Abby may try to reconcile with her ex. If she does, and it works … Who knows?”

“And you’re all right with that?” she asked incredulously.

“It’s a unique relationship,” he answered. “We’re very much in the here-and-now.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not jealous.”

“Tomorrow is a long way off, where Abby and I are concerned.”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He let go of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Yeah,” answered Joe Dart. “Me too.”

Dart called Bud Gorman at home and caught him before he went to bed.

“I need yet another favor,” Dart said cautiously, testing if he had asked for too much lately. Referring to the speeding tickets, he added, “I’m going to owe you a hell of a lot of fixes.”

“Screw fixing the speeding tickets. I’m getting a Jeep. I hit a piece of metal yesterday-one little piece of shit on the center line. I was only doing about seventy …” Probably in a thirty-five zone, Dart thought. “Thing had such low clearance, it jumped up and punctured my gas tank. Lucky I didn’t flame out. Shopped Jeeps this afternoon. It’s not safe out there.”

“It’s a company called Roxin Incorporated.”

“It’s called Roxin Laboratories, Inc.,” Gorman corrected. “It’s a biotech, genetics firm. I take it you got the e-mail I sent you.”

Genetics? Dart thought. “But how do you know-?”

“Did you get the e-mail or not?” Gorman interrupted.

“I haven’t checked today. It’s swing shift. I’m brain dead.” Genetics, he thought again. Roxin Laboratories, Inc., had purchased medical insurance policies for known sex offenders-protecting themselves in case the test program went badly. And it’s gone badly, Dart thought.

“Brain dead, huh? Well, come alive for a minute, ’cause what I’m talking about is the Proctor Securities client list you asked for. I turned up every check written to the company for the last twenty-four months. Posted the list onto CompuServe for you.”

“But Roxin?” Dart again began but was immediately interrupted.

“Is on the list, Joe. Proctor Securities is on retainer to them. They’re a big client. I placed them in the top ten of my Proctor list.”

“Oh, my God,” Dart blurted out. Zeller would have discovered Roxin while working for Proctor. It fit.

“You want a credit run on Roxin?” Gorman offered. “No problem.”

Dart couldn’t get a word out. His mind cluttered with a dozen thoughts.