Page 100 of The Devil's Advocate

‘There’s paper, but I don’t have the clearance,’ said the voice, and hung up.

Judging by Gruber’s suspension from the university for suspected white supremacist views, and given the company he was keeping with Brian Denvir, Bloch suspected Gruber was on a watch list somewhere. It was a strange time to be an American, she thought. After September eleventh, the single largest threat came from overseas terrorists. That had changed. The FBI, the Department of Homeland Security and other intelligence and law-enforcement agencies recognized the single greatest threat to the country now came from white supremacist domestic terror groups. They were increasingly well organized and funded.

Bloch thought about the blade found in Cody Warren’s neck. And the emblem upon it – the White Camelia. With that thought came a tickling in her throat, and a knot in her stomach. Bloch didn’t like feeling emotional. In her mind, feelings didn’t make good bedfellows with cold rationality and facts. The tools of her trade. Sometimes, no matter how hard she fought it, her feelings choked her thoughts. From a young age, Bloch was wary of emotions. She didn’t understand them, for the most part. They were difficult, hard to control and never seemed to be of use. While she showed affection to her family, to her best friend Kate, and occasionally to the women she dated, Bloch preferred to keep her distance from others. Erecting barriers, both physical and psychological. She didn’t shake hands, certainly didn’t hug others, and didn’t say much.

But now and again, all her practices, her barriers, her critical mindset, everything was overwhelmed. It was happening more frequently since she’d reconnected with Kate and joined the law firm as an investigator. She liked Eddie and Harry. And letting them into her life had caused more frequent bouts of deep-felt emotion.

The light snapped off in the window, and within a minute Gruber, Denvir and Edwards were back on the street. Bloch heard a creaking sound and looked at the steering wheel. It was bent under her grip. Her first reaction to a group of racists was always revulsion, and then anger. Her jaw began to ache, and she realized she was biting down on her teeth. She blew out a few quick breaths, rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck. The hatred bleeding through her brain prevented her from thinking, and she could not allow that.

As soon as the analytical part of her brain, the dominant part, kicked in, she noticed Gruber didn’t have the case with him any longer. Francis Edwards had the case, and he put it in the footwell of Gruber’s vehicle as he got in. Gruber drove them both away. Denvir waited a short while, then he left, the exhaust from his pick-up firing from the turbo as he screeched away.

Bloch got out of the car and approached the front door they had exited from not moments before. There were two locks on the door, including a dead bolt. She could get through it, but she didn’t want anyone to know she’d been inside. Instead, she walked up to the end of the block, counting the premises as she went, then turned left and found the alleyway that ran behind the buildings. She counted as she walked. Stopped at steel double doors that were as old as the building itself. The lock on the doors had rusted out. The handles on the doors were ten inches from one another and secured together with a steel chain and a padlock. This was meant to be a fire door, and chaining it from the outside was illegal, but probably the only way to secure the rear of the property now that the door lock had seized.

The padlock looked as new as the steel chain it secured. There were any number of ways to bust the lock or the chain, but she didn’t need to. All she needed to open the lock were the scissors from her keychain multitool, a soda can and some spit.

Bloch found a Dr Pepper can in a nearby dumpster, cut a strip from the can four inches by one inch, then cut a ‘U’ shape in the center of the strip. She folded up either end of the aluminum strip to make a shim, which she threaded through the bar of the padlock and pulled tight. A little spit on the base of the lock bar, and then she slid the U-shaped section down the bar, into the lock housing and between the bar and the lock notch. The bar popped open. She unthreaded the chain, went through the door to a covered alleyway that led to a set of iron stairs, painted black – the fire escape for the first floor. At the top of those stairs she found a window, closed but not locked, and after she put on a pair of latex gloves she pushed it open from the outside.

The space inside was not an apartment. It had once been an office, but it was clear that now it had another purpose. A flag, framed above a bank of filing cabinets, bore the same flower she had seen on the hilt of the blade found in Cody Warren. Bloch began pulling open the cabinet drawers. The first cabinet was empty, the second was stuffed with flyers. The same flower symbol was on the background of the printed slogans.

SAVE THE SECOND AMENDMENT.

SAVE YOUR CHILDREN.

SAVE THE WHITE RACE.

JOIN THE WHITE CAMELIA MARCH ON

MONTGOMERY.

The next drawer was filled with batteries and electrical wires and in the one below that was a box filled with cell phones and charging cables. In the last cabinet were files, stacked in neat rows on sleeves. She pulled out the first one, opened it and found it contained a single memo on a civil rights organization based out of Mobile. It listed the employees, their home addresses, social media handles, telephone numbers and the names and addresses of their family members. The next file was on a law firm in Montgomery, again listing employees and all their personal information. Bloch flicked through the row of files and came across the names of local companies, members of the legislature, police officers, judges, Democrat party politicians, and then, a file that sent a shiver across Bloch’s skin. The file had a simple title on the cover – Jews. Inside were memos on ordinary men and women, postal workers, officer workers, small business owners, and all of their personal information, sometimes even photographs.

There were files with titles like Blacks, Hispanics, Gay …

The last file had no label. When Bloch opened it she saw that it contained a list of local churches, and behind the list, print-outs of news articles. They were all the same story. The failed attempts at detonating a bomb in predominantly African American Gospel churches.

Block slammed the cabinet shut so hard it rocked on its base. She was panting, her fists balled, eyes wide.

There was one final drawer. No files in this one. Just one large roll of heavy-duty paper. Bloch lifted it clear and unrolled it. She found herself looking at a schematic for a large and very old house with four columns over the entrance. The house was part residence and part office space. There were line drawings and annotations on the plans, in small handwriting with words likeFinley Ave,exit 3, choke point 2andholding area.

She typed the street names into the maps app on her phone and got an aerial view of Montgomery, Alabama. The rally point had close access to the interstate. The building in the schematic must be close by, and after a few minutes of checking the landmarks in the area, she found it.

Bloch climbed out the window and left the building the same way she had come in, careful to lock up after her. She got in the car and drove back to the court at speed, running the lights, and flooring the accelerator.

She needed to get Eddie out of the cells, and make sure she was with Andy and his mother at all times. This group were organized, connected and they had a plan.

Bloch’s best guess: they were planning an all-out assault. With what aim she didn’t know. It could be an assassination, or kidnap, or both. The building in the plans was the seat of power in the state.

The governor’s mansion.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

EDDIE

When the bailiff brought me back up to the courtroom it had cleared. There was just Harry, Kate and Judge Chandler. Korn had already left, along with his assistant, Wingfield. My handcuffs were undone, and I stood beside Kate, for the second time, with her as my attorney. I couldn’t wait any longer – I needed to know how we’d done that day.

‘How did it go with Price?’

‘Good, we got the ring in play,’ said Harry.