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Valentine pointed his finger at him. “Ha-ha. Putin loves his money. He buys big horses and rides them without shirt on. He is crazy-ass stud.”
“Can you see if Cowl is doing their high-frequency trading from Area 51?”
“I can see trades if buying and selling is on public markets. I can’t see if they buy and sell through darkpool, not till sale complete. Is how high-frequency traders operate for so long without being found out.”
“But can you tell if it is high-speed trading going on? Based on the activity in the pipe?”
“Will take time. I have other things to do.”
“I thought you liked a challenge. And you couldn’t trace the message. I thought I’d give you a shot at redemption.”
“What is this redemption bullshit?” he asked, frowning.
“It means a second chance to prove that you are a world-class hacker.”
“I am world-class hacker. I know this already.”
“But I don’t, not based on the email fail.”
“You are funny man. Let me think. I get back to you.”
“Just don’t take too long. I have a feeling knowing sooner is better than knowing later.”
Valentine put his headphones on, flipped open his laptop, and went back to work.
Devine climbed the stairs, rinsed off the day’s grime in the shower, and changed into a pair of light brown slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt that he wore untucked. He put his dress shoes back on.
As he was heading back down, he met Helen Speers coming up the stairs. She’d obviously been doing yoga in the dining room again because the woman had on another set of colorful duds and was sweating. And he felt his heart start to race as she approached.
“Going out?” she said.
“Got a meeting.”
She gave him an odd look. “How’s the police investigation going?”
“It’s going. In some pretty odd directions.”
“Need that lawyer yet?”
“Probably any minute now.”
She looked at him severely, then headed off to her room where she would slide out of her yoga clothes and step into the shower . . . And he had to stop thinking about that.
Devine knocked on Tapshaw’s door. “Hey, it’s Travis. Did you eat today, Jill? The dating world of Hummingbird wants to know.”
She opened her door and stood there in red athletic shorts, a white tank top, and crew socks with pink Converse tennis shoes. Her hair was done up with an assortment of bobby pins. “I had lunch,” she said brightly. “And I might have dinner.”
“How’s the fund-raising going?”
“Hey, you work on Wall Street, right?”
“Yeah. Cowl and Comely. Why?”
“Let me show you something.”
She led him into her room and over to one of her giant computer screens. He had been to her office in the strip mall, and it looked like a cyberwarfare command center.
All in the name of love.
