Borderless Deceit by Adrian de Hoog Page B

the system, ongoing criminal investigations, for example, probably had more complicated access procedures; she wasn’t going to bother with them, since all this was just for fun. On the other hand, the database on closed cases containing the files of convicted criminals was available. And, as D.L. Durham began processing the sins of Dallas double parkers, his doppelgangers moved stealthily into the city’s registry of convicts. They perused the collection. So many files; so many failures, so much perversion, so much to study. It was enough to enliven Heywood. “I’ve always maintained,” he said perkily, “that it’s stimulating being a file clerk. I’ve given my share of pep talks on that.”
    Jaime asked him to pick a file and he chose one randomly. It was on a certain Dallas all-star banker, an oil-patch financier. It turned out he had suffocated his wife by grabbing her by the neck as she slept.Along with his latest male lover he had subsequently dismembered her, wrapped the body bits in tarpaulin, and stashed them in the hold of the company jet. The pair then flew off for a vacation in Acapulco. The pilot was requested to make a detour to the east, and over the Gulf of Mexico they discarded the woman piece by piece. The pilot was paid well and kept silent. However, a few months later, the lover sensed his role in the all-star banker’s life was fizzling, that he was slowly becoming just a piece of decoration. It caused him to seethe with frustration. The fateful evening came in a San Francisco club specializing in blond boys from eastern Europe. When the all-star banker looked them up and down with a strong glint in his eye, the lover flipped. He threatened blackmail. Too bad his voice was a few decibels too loud. Justice took its course. The all-star banker was meticulously coached for the trial and consistently assumed the role of victim, saying his lover had railroaded him into everything. He got a dozen years. The lover began his testimony unhelpfully. He described his métier as
star-fucker. I do it for a living and it isn’t always easy
. The statement was interpreted by the court as bringing clarity. It provided an economic motive for the murder. Right up to his end in the electric chair the lover maintained his métier was noble.
    The file animated Heywood. “Pretty good story,” he said. Jaime wanted to know if the Service had any to match it. Heywood replied there were plenty with similar contours, but none with the same dramatic texture. No one, as far as he knew, had ended up in an electric chair. “No star-fuckers in the Service?” Jaime asked lightly. Heywood cleared his throat. “Heartthrobs, Jaime. That’s all we get.”
    She was business-like again, saying files could be pilfered, amended, or destroyed. Pilferage was easy, but amendments required an exquisite touch. Care had to be taken to cover your tracks. She described another trick, building a secret entry portal. “You do that in some unlikely location in a network and use it to ride in any time. You don’t need to wait for the parking violations guy to go on-line.” They had a final peek at D.L. Durham who had finished administering the previous day’s double parkers and had just started the No-Parking-Zone infractions. Jaime initiated withdrawal from the DPD. With a final click their excursion to Dallas was history.
    â€œHope you had a blast, Irv. Don’t worry. No trace left. The point is, something like this happened to you. Someone studied your network, found a way in, established steady access, and when it pleased him, lit the cannon.”
    â€œWe’re gonna get that turkey,” the Czar muttered. “We’ll suffocate him by the neck, dismember him, throw the pieces into Hudson’s Bay.”
    â€œStay cool, Irv. He’s good. You don’t want to destroy that. You never know, you might decide to hire him. I’ll be looking