“I saw it once, from across the desk,” she replies defensively. “Yours I’ve seen dozens of times.”
“Shit. ‘Your password is incorrect. Try again.’”
“Okay… Immured? Same numbers.”
“Still nothing.” I thump the edge of the desk. “This is my last chance, Rita. I need to get in heretonight.”
“Patience, Alex. There aren’t many options.” She closes her eyes, as if she’s recalling watching DeLuca type it in. “Inmured. Inmured714. Try that.”
“Doesn’t it mean to be imprisoned?” I ask as I enter it.
“It’s going to work, isn’t it?” she says.
And it does. “Yeah. I’m in.” I open up DeLuca’s folders. “And didn’t he join in July 2014?”
“Such a happy working relationship. I’ll be right outside.”
I meet her eyes over the top of the monitor. “Thank you, Rita.”
“You’re welcome.” She turns and walks for the door, then pauses with her hand on the handle. “That’s the second time you’ve thanked me since I worked here. The first was yesterday.”
With that damning comment, the door closesbehind her, and I focus on DeLuca’s files.
I don’t need much, just proof of anything that could implicate Northbridge, and be used to keep Fournier at bay. With DeLuca’s seniority, his Company connections, and his oversight of so many projects, he has to know where the bodies are buried. Whether he keeps that on this computer is the risk in my plan.
That, and I don’t know what I’m looking for.
The minutes tick by, and I’m working as fast as I can, conscious that despite the late hour, anyone could come along. There are dozens of clients, each with their own folder. Greenstone is here, Origin Enterprises too, but I steer clear of those, not wanting to choose something directly connected to me. But Aetheris Pharmaceuticals catches my eye, and I remember it as a large project, even if it wasn’t mine. Large enough to draw Company interest.
The folder’s massive, with dozens of files within it. I settle in DeLuca’s chair and begin working my way through. I glance once at the time; six twenty. This is going to take ages, and I still have to get to Vicky, persuade her, and reach JFK for the flight at eleven.
“Rita,” someone says outside the door.
“Hi Charlotte.”
“Working late?”
“Always.”
I try to focus, ignoring them. Charlotte is one of our other partners, though not in the Company. Could she have a genuine reason for coming into DeLuca’s office? I can’t think of one, but make sureevery movement is quiet.
“Alex never sleeps, huh?” Charlotte says.
“He’s driven.”
Charlotte’s voice lowers. “And how is he when he…sleeps?”
“Peaceful, I expect,” Rita replies dryly.
“Oh, I’m sure. Gosh, if I were ten years younger and in your role… I’d be working late with Alexeverynight.”
“Have a good evening, Charlotte.”
“You too, Rita. You too.”
Footsteps fade away, and I shake my head and get back to it.
Twenty minutes later, I hit paydirt. An engagement letter from Sentinel Risk during the live deal process, detailing intelligence gathering on target management. It’s illegal, though not enough by itself. But it’s proof there’s evidence to find. I open an incognito browser and dump the whole file into a cloud drive account I’ve set up for the purpose. I’ll go through the rest of it when I have time.
