Municipal Blondes
16
The Committee
DID YOU EVER have a dream in code? Last night I worked in the office at the Condo until late, trying to figure out the last two digits for the hidden code. I was so tired, I fell asleep in front of the screen. All night long I dreamed long series of random numbers and letters. Don’t go thinking I solved the problem in my sleep. My head was apparently not satisfied with hexadecimal code. The dream included every letter of the alphabet and several figures from Aramaic, Chinese, and Farsi. No bolt of lightning breakthrough.
Pick a number
I woke up as tired as when I fell asleep, still in the chair at the desk. When I saw what time it was, I scrambled around to make sure my makeup and hair were in place before Davy got there. There would be a party tonight but he might be ticked if he just found out Angel was gone. I don’t think she told him she was going. She won’t be at the party tonight and I had one of those creepy feelings that I shouldn’t be here either.
When I got back to the desk, a flag I’d set up on Brenda’s accounts was chiming gently. She used a credit card in the name of Ashley Lark, one of the aliases I’d recorded. It was charged yesterday in Belize. It’s time I left the country. I used my James Whitcomb identity to buy a ticket on the most direct flight I could to Belize City, via Dallas/Fort Worth. At 11:55 tonight, I’m going after the bitch.
Now, back to my other problem. What are the last two characters to the code? I opened Excel and made a worksheet of the possibilities. If I can decipher what perverted word Simon thought up, I can fill in the last two numbers. But for most of the known numbers there were more than a single letter that could be substituted. ‘B’ could mean b, be, bee. ‘1’ could be one, won, i, or L. ‘6’ was just a six or a G. ‘0’, I hate that one. O, naught, zip, zilch, aught, nada or just zero. ‘I’ again. ‘D’ could be de, de-, ed (on Brenda’s tattoo, Simon used just a ‘d’ instead of ‘ed’ to make elated but on his own, he used both the ‘e’ and the ‘d’ to make fated.)
Then there were all the letters in Simon’s tattoo since I didn’t know which two were in red. ‘F’ has to just be f. ‘8’ could be eight, ate, 8. ‘E’, long or short sound. ‘2’ is another goody. Two, to, too, Z, 2. I still had two ‘d’s, a ‘1’, and another ‘e’.
What do I know about Simon? He’s a gamer and consistent. He has rules he follows or else he has to cheat. Simon loves the game too much to cheat. So, the letters should be in the order they’ll be used. Angel says he can make a dirty joke out of anything. He loves money. He’s obsessed with death, having used ‘die’ twice already. Combined with the b1, what do I have?
Bif? Bize (busy?), bile, bide, bl8d (belated), bled, blez, blei, bige (big ego?), blie.
Bi-lego-id, big-ego-id, bi-leg-old, bizesixoid (bisexual?), bi-f8-gold.
Gold! That’s Simon-talk. Busy gold would work. Belated gold. Bled gold. Yes! Morbidity with the bleeding and money with the gold. I was getting impatient. What will it hurt if I try? I can always rebuild the system again if he decides to erase everything.
Gotta run now
I’m scared.
Davy started banging around in the living room shouting at caterers and decorators for the party tonight. The party is for the board of directors of Bio-Research Technologies, one of the hottest new stocks on the Seattle market. But it’s not Davy I’m worried about, or even the CEO of Bio-Research by himself.
I got into the thumb drive.
When I brought the computer out of hibernation, the message was still flashing on the screen: “Simon says, enter the next encryption code.”
Here goes. B-1-e-d-6-0-1-d. Bled Gold. Who is bleeding, Simon?
The screen blanked and I was poised to yank the thumb drive out of the port when a message appeared on the screen.
“There’s only one person in a billion who could get here, so congratulations, Dag. Everything you need is here. Simon says, ‘Nail the bastards.’ I’m counting on you, old friend.
The screen dissolved and was replaced with a directory of hundreds of files. I scanned through a few of them. There were bank records, commerce records, spreadsheets, email, and documents setting up offshore accounts. Dag told me he’d moved nearly two billion in assets for Simon before he died. These records showed traffic an order of magnitude greater than that.
There was a new area of fraud alive in the world, more profitable than drug traffic. I was holding one in my hand—a cellular phone.
I would have been more comfortable if I’d found some big crime syndicate in this mess. What scared me was it was controlled by eight men and one woman. The Committee comprised senior officers of every major corporation in the Northwest. And the way they were working would evade detection by the most careful auditors. They weren’t defrauding their own companies. They were preying on each other’s.
These were the kind of people who could buy and sell a dozen of me a minute and not even care where I ended up. And one of them would be a guest at the Condo this evening. No wonder Angel had run. I’m doing the same.
I packaged up a compressed file of everything on the thumb drive and sent it to Jordan with instructions on how to access the data.
Then I packed.
The party started at seven. I’d planned my escape route but people started getting there before I was prepared. Now I’d have to watch for a break and make a run for it. Of course, the first one to arrive would have to be Cinnamon.
She checked her phone and purse at the door and headed directly for the private room opposite the office.
I’m sure she knew there were cameras all over the Condo. Probably knew where each one was. She went into the dressing room area and leaned into the mirror to powder her nose. She was wearing an elegant pale blue gown that accented her tawny skin tones. It was a scoop neck front but the back was cut so low it nearly showed her butt crack.
She turned so she was facing the camera and I saw the tube of lipstick drop to the floor. That was when I realized she was putting on a show. She tapped her foot angrily, made a big deal out of seeing where the tube landed, and bent over to retrieve it. While she was bent over, the straps of her gown slid down her shoulders and when she straightened up, the dress slipped down to her waist leaving her pert little breasts exposed to the camera. Again, she made a little display about being silly enough to let her dress fall off and slowly slid the straps up her shoulders. She finished tidying herself up and turned to leave the private room. Just as she pulled the door open, she glanced up at the camera and blew a little kiss to it.
The girl had been giving James Whitcomb a show, intentionally inviting me to call for her. She was going to be so disappointed when she found out I was a girl and we’d both be embarrassed when she found out which girl. I suddenly understood the impulse guys have to run when a girl shows interest in them. I was about to run.
The party was moving along by then. Davy served drinks and monitored the door. He checked everyone through and made sure the house rules were followed. No phones, cameras, or weapons. I think our Condo security was better than an airport. I watched the CEO hand out gifts to his employees in the living room and I thought I could make it to the service elevator behind the kitchen when there was a knock at my door. I checked the monitors and Cinnamon was standing outside looking up at the camera. She tilted her head and waved her fingers at the camera.
Now what was I going to do? I could pretend not to be here, but then she would go ask Davy and there would be too much attention drawn to me. A flash of lightning and boom of thunder outside the windows shocked me as a gust of wind blew the cover off the hot tub. I needed to leave. When I opened the door, Cinnamon rushed in and wrapped me in a warm embrace, searching for my lips with hers.
“James,” she breathed in my face as she kissed my cheek. Before she could reach my lips, I regained control.
“Cinnamon, baby,” I husked as I pulled her away.
“Have you recovered from your jetlag? I hope so.”
“I’m fine, Cinnamon, but I’m getting ready to leave. I have to leave on a trip tonight.” My mind was in overdrive, trying to think of a way to use Cinnamon to get me out of the penthouse suite. Another gust of wind toppled a potted plant on the patio. A real storm was blowing in. Those plants are heavy.
“Take me with you, James,” she whispered. “I’ll be anything you’d like me to be. I’ll make your trip so much more enjoyable.”
“I don’t doubt you would, Cinnamon,” I said. “But I need to get out of here now and I’d like you to help me. I don’t want to be recognized by any of the guys out there. They don’t know I’m here. I’m doing a little audit of their activities, you know.”
“Oh, I won’t tell anyone, James. I promise.” Just then the phone on the desk rang. I knew it had wrung in the bar as well and q quick glance at the monitor showed Davy answering it. I reached over and flicked on the speaker phone and pressed mute so I could hear and not be heard.
“Everything is going fine, Ms. B,” Davy said. “Mr. J got here on Tuesday and put everything in shape right away.”
“Who is Mr. J?” I heard Brenda’s voice over a slightly delayed long distance connection. I wished I knew where she was calling from but this conversation was getting dangerous already.
“The guy you sent to take control,” Davy said. “He’s got a lease signed by you and everything. Said he was part of the Committee.”
“There is no Mr. J on the Committee, Davy. You’ve been infiltrated.”
“Shit.” Davy hung up the phone and headed straight to the CEO of Bio-Research. This looked bad. I glanced up and Cinnamon was looking at me in horror.
“I’m sorry, Cinnamon. I’m one of the good guys,” I said. I played the one card I thought would save me. “Dag sent me. Are you with me?”
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, seeing the CEO had just looked up at the camera.
Then everything went black. It was a little pop and the monitors went out, the lights went out, and the locks all closed. Another blast of wind hit the side of the building and rattled the glass so hard I thought it would cave in. I could hear the screams out in the Condo and a gasp of breath from Cinnamon as she clutched my arm. I opened the door and pushed her toward the poolroom, letting the door latch behind me. It’s one thing to get out of an electronically locked door. You just turn the handle and leave. But I was counting on the lock delaying any pursuit.
We emerged from the poolroom into the buffeting wind. I used the wind to help me topple another plant in front of the door. I’d never seen a storm like this in Seattle. Downtown was dark. Power was out everywhere. Clutching Cinnamon to me against the cold, we were almost blown over when we were hit by the wind. Climbing the ladder to the rooftop access stair didn’t seem like as good an idea s it had in the office. I could hear someone crashing into the poolroom door but the plant effectively blocked it. Flashlights started coming on in the living room. We had no choice.
I stripped off my jacket and wrapped it around Cinnamon, yelling for her to stay low as we crossed the patio to the ladder. The downed plant by the hot tub proved a challenge for Cinnamon to get over in her gown. I picked her up and set her on the bottom step of the ladder, following her closely and using my body to hold her against the ladder. She hit the roof and rolled as another gust of wind hit. I was afraid she was going over the edge.
I grabbed her leg and dragged her back, staying low on the roof and crawling toward the door. I was just reaching for the latch when Davy came blasting through the door.
Use greater force against itself. I quickly sidestepped and gave Davy a gentle shove with my foot. He went sailing straight ahead and over the edge of the roof. Cinnamon screamed as I heard a splash below and shoved her through the open door. Davy had gone into the hot tub. I was satisfied he was no longer a threat. I half dragged, half carried Cinnamon down the stairs all the way to the garage and my car. I ripped the canvas off and stuffed it in the back seat along with my bag and we tore out of the garage, breaking the gate off since it wouldn’t rise in the blackout.
I turned right and hit Second southbound, dodging around cars confused by the blackout. Sirens were going off all over town as police tried to attend to the most urgent traffic conditions. I just barreled through the intersections with my lights flashing dim and bright like an emergency vehicle. Cinnamon whimpered in her seat as I turned on traffic radio to see what the best route would be. Instead of heading for the freeway, I connected to 99 south and headed for the airport. I wasn’t going to enjoy taking off in this wind.
Finally, Cinnamon spoke.
“Who are you, really?” she asked. “Are you with the FBI? I’ll tell you everything I know. I promise.”
“I’m counting on that, Cinnamon,” I said.
“How did you know my name?” she asked. “The first night I saw you, you called me by name but I’d never told you. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. Who are you?”
“I’m a friend and you are about to become my new partner,” I said. “But first, you have to promise me not to overreact to what I’m going to say. Got your seatbelt fastened?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, literally checking her belt.
“I’m a friend,” I repeated, softening my voice. As I proceeded to describe our first real meeting at the Palomino Grill weeks ago, I continued to soften my voice until I’d reached my normal tones.
“Debbie?” she gasped.
“Cinnamon,” I said, returning to my most masculine tone, “don’t ever call me Debbie.”
“But, Deb. I… We… You… Then…”
“I’m sorry, Cinnamon,” I said. “I didn’t want to lead you on but I did tell you that I could disguise myself in such a way you’d never tell who I was. We had a bet, remember?”
“Yeah. Oh, Deb. What I said. Or suggested.”
“Forget about it. You didn’t know I was a girl.”
“Well, it doesn’t make that much difference to me,” she said, reaching out to put a hand on my leg. “I like it both ways.” Now I was dumbstruck.
“Um, well… Look… I mean…” I wasn’t handling this as well as she was.
“Where are we going, Deb? She asked.
“The airport,” I said. “I’d like you to drop me off and take care of the car. If you don’t feel safe going back to your own apartment, I’ve got a safe place for you to stay. I’m going to need someone to monitor things for me back at my office. What do you think? Would you like to do some work for me?”
“I think I just quit my day job,” she said. “Deb, I’d do anything for you. But can’t I go on the trip with you?”
“No, honey. Seattle might not be the safest place in the world but where I’m headed is even less safe.”
“Where is that?”
“I’m going after Ms. B.”
“Deb! You can’t do that! Let’s just go away someplace and wait till this whole thing blows over.”
“It’s not going to blow over, Cinnamon,” I said. “I just sent info to FinCEN that will put some of Seattle’s biggest executives behind bars if they can sort out the data. The only person on the Committee who’s missing is Ms. B. I’m going to bring her in, dead or alive.”
Cinnamon was quiet for a few minutes and I was afraid I’d completely overwhelmed her. In some ways, she was more vulnerable than I was.
“That’s why Angel took off yesterday, isn’t it?”
“You knew she was gone?”
We pulled into the departure lane at SeaTac. There were still lights but it was blowing up an incredible storm. This just wasn’t going to be fun. I gave Cinnamon my keys, including office and both apartments. She gave me back my jacket and I pulled a sweatshirt out of the emergency pack in the back seat to keep her warm. Then I grabbed my bag and walked around the front of the car.
“Thanks, Cinnamon,” I said as we met. She didn’t say anything. She just wrapped her arms around me and gave me another big kiss. I didn’t resist too much. I wanted to look like just another businessman heading out on a business trip. And she sure can kiss.
Now I’m at the airport waiting. All flights were cancelled or delayed because of the storm. I’ll sit here in the executive lounge and hope no one else on the Committee decides to take a late-night trip.
And think about Cinnamon’s kiss.
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