Cafe Underground Presents
PHACKER
Book 3 -- Chapter 11
The Detective Andi Wicksham Series, by RL Bell
Copyright © 1997 RL BELL
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Andi Wicksham's INVESTIGATORY SERVICES
Chapter 11
From the Chinese shelves of Video Madness Andi got "To Live," by the director of Red Sorghum, visualizing watching with a glass of red wine and a pillow. Dinner became ginger chicken and rice from Thanh Thao's. She changed into shorts and a tee shirt, pulled the blinds, got out chopsticks, poured a glass of merlot and popped the tape into the VCR.
The credits had just finished and the opening shots stretched before her when the telephone rang. Andi cursed mildly, pushed the hold button and reached for the receiver.
"Andi, it's Lena, can I come over?" She sounded like she was almost in tears.
"What's the matter? Of course, you alright?"
"JC brought the band and cleaned the place out."
"He took your stuff?" Andi shrieked.
"No," Lena murmured, “but his stuff was the bed and kitchen table" Lena hardly got the words out between sobs. “The sheets are mine, and the dishes, but the couch and chair are gone and I don't even have a place to sit except metal folding chair." Her wails sounded dismal.
"You stay right there and I'll come get you." Andi clicked off the TV with the phone still glued to her ear.
"OK." Lena murmured in a little-girl voice.
Andi could hear her electronically disembodied breath. "I'm on my way." Lena didn't answer. "You OK? I'm coming."
Lena sniffed. Andi imagined her nodding "yes" with the phone still in her hands. "OK." Lena whispered thankfully. "I'll be here."
Andi found the door of Lena's apartment left open a crack. She pushed it open with a finger tip and called out "Lena? You here?"
The sound of a metal folding chair shifting on the kitchen echoed hollowly through the room. From the kitchen came "Andi?"
Andi closed the door behind her. The hollow echo of disruption filled the apartment, gaping expanses of wall stretched without posters, books spilled on the floor in a half-circle where a bookcase had stood by the window. An exposed warren of dust bunnies huddled beside a throw rug drifting askew--waiting where they'd bred under the now-missing couch. She stepped to the kitchen door. Lena stood beside the window. Tears marked her cheeks and her eyes were red.
"Andi." Lena sniffed. She tried to straighten up and smile. "I know I'm being silly, it's not like this comes out of the blue."
"No." Andi squeezed her shoulders and touched her cheek with a finger. "You're not silly, you're hurt."
"Yeah, but it's not like I'm surprised or anything."
"Weren't you going to talk this over before he moved." Andi looked around at the opened kitchen cupboards.
"Yeah." Lena sniffed and smiled. "It was the date I broke to be with you. I never thought about what that would mean to have his stuff gone."
"Have you eaten?" Andi asked solicitously.
Lena shook her head and wiped her face on her sleeve.
"You'll come home with me." Andi stated with definition. "You need anything?”
Lena shook her head. "I want to straighten up. It'll be hell to come back to this." She grabbed the broom from beside the refrigerator and started sweeping, eyes fastened to the floor. Andi re-stacked the books, then straightened the rug as Lena swept the kitchen's debris through the doorway into the living room, corralled the dust bunnies and toured the corners.
The bathroom looked untouched, but the bedroom mimicked the living room, footsteps reverberated unnaturally though the dust where the bed and one of two chests of drawers once stood. The sheets were roughly folded and waited by the wall, a teddy bear lay abandoned in a corner, the closet gaped like a empty socket, half it’s space conspicuously vacant.
Andi dusted off the bear and set it carefully on the remaining bureau. Lena swept in and Andi retreated to the kitchen to shut cabinets and living room, rearranging the remaining end tables and the rug to balance the look.
Lena came up quietly. "It has an austere, South Western esthetic." She stood, the broom up-right beside her like the farmer in "An American Gothic."
"Very moderne." Andi conceded with a smile.
"I've always admired minimalism." Lena tilted her head to a side and made a lopsided grin that didn’t quite made it to a smile. "It's an uncluttered...something. Sleek post modern without that hard-edge that distracts from the homey."
"Très elegant." Andi was uncomfortable with the gallows humor. "Want clothes, toothbrush and teddy bear?"
Lena dashed to the bedroom and emerged with clothes draped over an arm, the bear's head peeking from a sunflower yellow jumper. "Grab my toothbrush, it's the red one." She shifted the armload to grab her bag and headed for the door.
Andi ducked into the bathroom. "It was the only one here."
"Oh, yeah." mumbled Lena. "I forgot."
Saturday morning they lazed in bed, not entwined like lovers, but beside each other, Lena's break-up still between them. It was intimate despite that; blankets on the floor, they lazed under the grey and blue sheet. "I need furniture. I gave away my crummy stuff when he moved in."
"Pots and pans?" Andi casually ran a finger along Lena's arm.
"Mine, he took the microwave, but it was too small anyway." there was a faraway touch to Lena's voice.
"What you want for breakfast? Waffles?"
"Sure, but a shower first." Lena threw the sheet aside, pulled the blinds open without caring that she stood naked before the window, then headed for the bathroom.
Andi pulled the sheet somewhat straight and tossed the blankets on top. "I'll get you a towel." She gave up on the bed and pulled towels from the cupboard.
With the waffle iron plugged in, she pulled out bowl, eggs and flour, poured a folder of yeast in a cup with sugar, and flipped on the radio, turning up the bass so music would fill the corners. Lena came out wrapped in a towel and rubbing her hair, she lifted the lid of waffle iron and made a face when there was nothing there.
"I make the world's best waffles." bragged Andi. "Yeast and pecans...I whip the egg white stiff."
"Oh, baby. Whip 'em until they get stiff? I love it when you talk cooking." She used a Mae West voice, gave a sultry look over a lowered shoulder and vamped on back to the bedroom.
Andi scowled at the breeder joke and concentrated on dividing eggs.
A half hour later they shared the last waffle. Andi sat back smug, the radio played big band jazz, sun streamed through the window and the world was warm and sweet.
The phone rang. Andi stretched a leisurely arm.
"Hello, Wicksham?" Ramirez--she recognized his work voice and the background murmur of his office.
"It's Saturday, Ramirez. What are you doing at work?" Andi glanced over and threw a silent kiss to Lena.
"Thought you might want the latest on the bane of Max's existence." Ramirez sounded low key, maybe he wasn't at work.
"I thought Mrs. Max's mother was the bane of his existence?"
"Yeah...Frank sent the last of the information last night. I heard this morning that the feds stayed up until after three two nights in a row as well as doing their regular day."
"Such dedication." mused Andi. "Did they make headway?"
"They're true believers, our geeks got it right this time, but the feds yelled and cursed until they traced the calls. They came from all over only dumped information; no hook-ups going anywhere." He sounded almost sad that there wasn't more excitement.
"Good, we're always glad to help our boys in blue. I hope Max can afford the labor to dig through it."
"Yeah, that's actually why I was calling. Max spent all yesterday wading into the mess and evidently pulled an all nighter. You were right about the volume and they're upset so much is encoded."
"Can't say I didn't warn you. You now have all we have." Andi took a sip of coffee. "And you know, Ramirez, I've never been one to say I told you so, but I'm actually feeling pretty good at this. I just hope Max is happy now."
"Right, you're an A-1 citizen. He needs help." The phone line hung silent a moment.
"Max admitted he needs our help?"
"No, I do. He goes apoplectic at the mention of your name."
"Then I'd be running risk of interfering with his investigation if I lifted a finger. Doesn't sound like a good idea, he might have a stroke."
"Wicksham." Ramirez' voice was getting it’s exasperated edge.
"Hey, he has everything, just like he wanted." Andi peered out the window as if gazing into inner distance. "Let’s see, he needs help, but he hates my guts? I don't think so."
"Hey, his wife and kid almost got arrested."
"And whose fault was that? Besides, it kind of gives him a taste of his own medicine. The wife and kid got off easy, he grilled me half the night. Remind him that it's a homicide investigation, he's got to expect somebody’s civil rights might suffer. The only problem I see is that they're his family's, not someone else’s."
"Wicksham." Ramirez pleaded.
"I'll think about it. Tell him that if he'd acted ethically he wouldn't have a problem. Let him stew." A few high clouds chased each other across the sky. "You know, one of those official certifications of appreciation with the gold seals, signed by him thanking me for helping would be a nice gesture."
"Wicksham." Ramirez's voice took a hostile edge.
"But then again, perhaps I should leave you professionals to do your thing."
"OK, I'll try. Remember we’re expecting you for dinner."
"With Lena."
"If she doesn't come, Tanya will play hell on both of us."
"You'll talk to Max?"
"Don't push it, I'll do my best. You going to be home? I might call later."
"The machine will be on if I'm not. Dasvidoniya comrade."
"Don't be dated Wicksham, retro doesn't become you."
Francois called fifteen minutes later. "I got something on your client's telephone contacts." he told Andi excitedly.
"Yeah? What?" Andi waved Lena back in from the bedroom where she was pulling the bedclothes straight.
"Four of Avedic-Frank's board of directors are on the board of the Utah trucking firm and two in management team work both places."
It took Andi a moment to sort the pieces. "Connecting 50th street and Avedic-Frank?"
"It might not mean much...maybe just fat cats diversifying investment."
Andi snorted. "Sure."
"Avedic make a lot of long distance to the truckers."
"Damn."
"That's only part of it, your Ramsey Karenia was on the Berg & Trafino payroll."
"How did you find that out? Trafino and Eileen said he was only a friend of Eugene's who came to visit."
Francois' voice was droll, "He got a couple of grand every month over the last year. I peeked into their bookkeeping."
Andi shut her eyes. "You broke into the computer of our clients?"
"It wasn’t work related, it was strictly on my own.
Andi collected herself. "So Ramsey got money from Berg & Trafino?"
"As a subcontractor, the third of every month."
"What for?" Andi puzzled.
"All I had was accounting." Francois paused. "The firm handled a lot of money--from a couple hundred grand to near a million a month. Checks to radio and TV stations, promos, magazines. Probably pulled kickbacks from each."
"What about Avedic-Frank and Grassroots.”
Francois checked a note. "Avedic didn't make any phone calls to Berg and Trafino, if that's any help."
"How about Grassroots?" Andi repeated.
"There are a few calls each way each month. On the surface they push evangelical Christianity, but it’s a scam. Their executives suck off half off the top. But both Avedic-Frank and Trafino were contributors."
"Trafino doesn't seem the type."
"She gave forty-three grand in the last six months."
“She found a very large deposit she didn’t make. Anything else?"
"Say ‘Hi’ to Lena. I'll call tomorrow." They both hung up.
Andi sank into a kitchen chair and stared across at Lena. "Did you get much of that?"
"Enough to follow." Lena ruffled her hair and looked back. "But how can you tell Ramirez the rest without admitting you're consultant illegally checked your client's phone records, a non-profit, an advertising agency and trucking firm."
"Maybe I can put it off a while.” Andi shrugged and called Trafino’s home number. "Ramsey Karenia's was murdered. How long had he worked there?"
Trafino answered with unhurried calmness. "He never worked here."
"OK, he was your subcontractor."
If Trafino was surprised she didn't show it. "He built on-site displays, had a truck and strong back. You know."
"And he was also Eugene's friend?"
"Of course." responded Trafino quietly.
"He was your contact for stolen material." Andi tried a shot in the dark.
There was long moment of silence. "That can't be proven." Trafino said simply. No tension, no hostility--just a simple truth. If Ramsey was her contact, his boss was either Grassroots or Avedic-Frank. Ramsey could have left it in Eugene's closet before his fatal appointment.
"How about Avedic-Frank?" asked Andi with the perfect touch of sarcasm.
Trafino didn't answer.
"Or Grassroots Family Values."
"How did you...?" Trafino drifted to silence before she finished.
"You hired me to." Andi said quietly.
"There's one more thing, three of Avedic-Frank's board are on the board of a trucking firm in Utah that's a cover for a company moving huge amounts of money illegally."
There was a moment of silence this time. Then she answered. "So? We all have skeletons in our closets. Why were you investigating trucking firms on my tab?" Trafino demanded.
"Mrs. Trafino," Andi answered calmly, “Those people killed both Ramsey and Eugene."
Trafino whispered quietly, "Gene?"
"I couldn't prove it in court, but it’s true."
"Thank you Ms Wicksham, I'll look into it." Trafino was back to her hard-as-nails business self. "Goodbye" and hung up.
Andi lowered the phone to the counter. Lena met her eyes, but the moment was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.
Lena picked it up. "Hello, yeah. She's right here." Ramirez she mouthed with a shrug.
Andi took a deep breath and answered. "Hello, Ramirez. Weren't we just talking just a few minutes ago?"
"I thought you might like to know." Ramirez paused to wring whatever suspense he could out of the next sentence. "We found your client's nephew."
"You what?" exclaimed Andi.
"And I'd like you to note how I'm phoning up first-thing."
"What and where?"
"Beaverton...another sleazy office and computers. Same MO. The bodies had been there a while. I’m sorry."
"Have they contacted the next of kin?"
"I don't think so. I just got word and thought you'd like to hear."
"I guess I should wait before calling his aunt."
"Sounds best. I don't know how Beaverton does it."
"Ramirez." Andi said meaningfully.
"Yeah."
"You should look into that trucking firm again."
"Do you know something you should be telling me?" he asked pointedly.
"Just suspicions...maybe I'll know more this evening."
"OK, Wicksham, until then."
Andi hung up and glanced over to Lena. "Get Francois after the trucking company."
Lena leaned her chin on her hand. "Why the rush? Twenty minutes ago it was OK to let it slide."
It was a good question, but Andi was wired. "Whoever killed Eugene killed Gina." She stared at Lena, her face fading from resolution to despair. "We have to convince Ramirez."
"You got anything more than check the truckers?"
Andi shook her head.
"I'll find a pay phone. You make a lunch. Then we're getting out of Dodge, up the Gorge to look at waterfalls." She gave Andi a calculating look.
Andi mumbled ascent. She didn't want to go on a picnic. Going into the office was more to her taste, but she didn't want to admit compulsion. Lena gave a peck and ducked down the stairs and Andi fumed in front of the refrigerator, pulling out apples, oranges, bread and cheese and reaching back for salsa. She rummaged for cookies and juice, got sunscreen from the bathroom and washed the dishes and got the laundry together, tossing Lena's in with conscious intimacy. She'd just sat down in the kitchen when Lena rang the buzzer.
“Maybe we should do laundry and chores instead."
"So you can go by the office?"
"Why would you think that?"
"You're so transparent." Lena shook her head.
"We need to bring something to bring this evening." Andi flailed.
"He told me nothing more than cookies and wine would be accepted. If you're going to be miserable we can stay, but you're going to have it thrown back in your face over the next couple of years."
"OK, we’ll go."
Lena was already heading for the door.
Andi was able to contain herself until about three when she began thinking more of the case than the scenery.
Lena suggested returning.
"If you think we should." conceded Andi. "We'll need to change before Ramirez and Tanya's and see Francois."
"I told Francois to expect us, four to four-thirty." smirked Lena with a knowing grim. Andi attempted a look of the misunderstood, but Lena rolled her eyes and headed for the car. "You are so transparent." she laughed and skipped ahead.
Francois was waiting on the porch when they drove up at quarter after four. They trooped upstairs and settled around the table. "I know why Eugene was killed." Francois’ face was grey and his voice stern. "In the past four months he bounced more than a million of their dollars between banks using two or three accounts per bank."
"A million?" Lena exclaimed in surprise.
"At least."
"Where did he get it?" inquired Andi practically.
"Where do you think? The trucking firm."
"And?" Andi asked rhetorically.
"They thought it was the hackers. It was his way at getting back at them. Gave most of the money to charities."
"Grassroots?" Lena raised an eyebrow.
"No, things you’d agree with, some to his aunt with a little left over. He transferred the money to an off-shore account, then bounced it between the banks and accounts six to nine grand at a time so's not to attract attention. He transferred the money back and syphoned it out."
"Slick."
"Yeah." agreed Francois. "I figured if it's still there in a month or two I'd bounce it around a little more and split the last three hundred grand with you."
Andi absently chewed her lip. Francois leaned his chair back on it back legs. "The guys in Salt Lake went after the hackers and somehow Eugene got tied in and taken down."
"Why didn't he just lie low?" Lena puzzled.
Francois shrugged and looked to Andi. Andi shook her head sadly and stared out the window. Francois brought his chair forward and folded his hands before him. "The question is what do we do now?"
"Ramirez’ sources swear the truckers are clean. I don't know if he can get them looked into again."
Francois sighed.
"Trafino." inserted Lena.
"Beg pardon?" questioned Andi.
"Trafino might know how to get 'em."
"The upper management team gets together every week." Francois offered helpfully.
"Do they?" asked Lena.
Francois smiled "Either in Utah or Seattle."
Andi let the information settle within her. She looked over at Lena and blinked, blank-faced and cat-like. Lena looked back and forth between the two of them.
"I'll get a package for Trafino together." Francois volunteered. "Lena can fax it to Eileen."
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Copyright © 1997 RL BELL.
Last Updated 6/10/97
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