Spyder Web (32 page)

Four days had passed and the streets outside the safe house still appeared clear of any unwanted observation. While there, Kang altered his appearance by cropping his hair short and coloring the silver-gray strands black. The effect removed several years from his appearance, enough to fool a careless observer.

As he ate his lunch, the phone in the safe house rang twice, then stopped. A moment later, it repeated the pattern of two rings before stopping; it was the embassy. He picked up the phone and placed a direct call to the embassy resident over the secure line.

‘This is Kang.’

‘You have a call from Phillip Moy,’ a voice whispered back. There was no need for the man to whisper; their conversation was filtered through a scrambler at the embassy switchboard.

‘Put him through,’ Kang demanded.

The phone made a buzzing sound as the connection switched to Moy. Kang turned on the cassette recorder attached to the phone. ‘This is Deng Cho-Nam. Do you have the information that my clients requested?’

‘Yes.’Moy’s voice was calm and deliberate. ‘We will be transferring the cipher upgrades next Friday at eleventhirty A.M. Chicago time.’

‘And the access codes to your computer system?’

‘There are two sets, the first of which I will give to you now. These codes will provide access into our computer network. The second set of codes are the passwords to access the secure mainframe. I will turn these codes over to you when I have seen my uncle.’

‘Very well,’ Kang replied. Moy was performing as ordered. ‘The first codes, please.’

Moy dictated specific instructions on penetrating his network without triggering the recently installed Gatekeepers. ‘Everything must be done correctly or the system will shut you out.’

‘Very good.’ Kang kept his voice flat and unemotional. He found that such detachment often unnerved his opponents, leaving him at an advantage. ‘Here are my instructions for you. Arrive in London no later than Thursday evening. Make arrangements to stay at the Hilton. We will contact you Friday morning for the final exchange. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Moy answered obediently.

‘If the PRC representatives detect any sign of British or American security forces, your uncle will be killed. Do I make myself clear?’ The question held a lingering threat for Moy and his family.

‘Perfectly, Mr Deng.’

Kang detected a slight quiver in Moy’s voice. The man is a docile sheep, he thought, despising Moy for his weakness. ‘Good. Then I will see you next Friday for the exchange.’

Kang cradled the handset and smiled. The final pieces of this operation were falling into place. If he could remain out of Axton’s view for one more week, he would succeed. He pulled the cassette from the recorder and placed it in a clear plastic shell. He had a lot of work to do in only a week’s time.

Chicago, Illinois

Moy hung up the phone. He still felt awkward about handing the access codes to his computer network over to the Chinese spy. The codes were legitimate and, for the next week, this foreign agent would have nearly unlimited access to his electronic empire. It was a gamble, but his father often told him that much of life was a gamble. Moy hoped that Barnett’s hand was good enough to win.

May 8

Kang found no difficulty moving about London this afternoon, but he didn’t allow a false sense of security to develop around his apparent good fortune. He met the head of Chinese intelligence in the UK in a public park, where he gave the man detailed instructions for bringing the hostage to London. Security for that part of the operation was critical and Beijing would have to make the necessary arrangements.

After that meeting, Kang kept moving about the city until evening, when he arrived at Canary Wharf. The late-afternoon rain finally dissipated around sunset, when Kang joined several other people out for an evening stroll on the river walk. The Thames shimmered with the lights from the buildings that lined its shores.

Kang already assumed that Axton and British Intelligence were aware of his contact with Parnell and would be taking steps to determine why. If he was in Axton’s place, he would keep his teams loose, but well placed around Parnell’s building. He would also have taps on Parnell’s phones and listening devices planted in Parnell’s office and home. That was why he risked a surprise, direct contact with Parnell.

Kang carefully studied the other strollers, looking for anything that would signal a surveillance team. He found none. He waited until the river walk cleared in both directions before closing in on Parnell’s building. When the walk was deserted, he slipped over the railing and dropped down onto the dock jutting out from the marina beneath the building where Parnell lived and worked. He passed by several boats tied up in the protected marina on his way to the stairs. Kang easily defeated the door lock and moved inside.

He didn’t see any surveillance teams working within Parnell’s building, nor did he expect to. Surveillance that’s too tight runs the risk of alerting the subject before you’re ready, he thought. Fifteen flights of stairs later and he was on the level of Parnell’s flat. Peering out of the stairwell, he saw nothing but an empty corridor. Parnell’s flat was on the other side of the elevator core, facing the river.

Parnell had just served dessert to his attractive dining companion when he heard the knock at his door.

‘Bloody hell.’ Parnell hissed with disgust at the interruption. ‘Pardon me, Vanessa. It’s probably a neighbor wanting to borrow some coffee.’

‘Do hurry back,’ she cooed in a sultry voice.

Vanessa was fantastic in bed, an acrobat between the sheets, and he often fantasized about her long wavy black hair cascading down on him as they made love. Tonight, her tan, provocative figure was clad only in a shimmering red dress that hugged the contours of her body as it descended from the thin straps on her shoulders to a hem some eight inches above her knees. Her ample cleavage was displayed like an invitation and, with each breath, her breasts challenged the tensile strength of the cloth that contained them. No undergarment telegraphed its presence through the fabric of her dress, and that thought excited him greatly.

Thus aroused, Parnell felt an intense annoyance at the disturbance that now took him away from her company. He’d even toyed with the idea of taking her to the islands once he’d closed up shop in London. He opened the door and, at first, didn’t recognize his visitor.

‘Parnell, are you just going to stand there, or will you invite me in?’

The voice made the connection for Parnell instantly-the forceful tones belonged to Ba Xan. The man’s medium-length gray hair was now cropped short and colored black as India ink. The look was severe and disturbing.

‘I am entertaining a guest right now. Could we talk at a more appropriate time, perhaps?’

‘No, we must talk now,’ Kang demanded. ‘Give your apologies to your guest, as I require a private conversation with you-immediately.’

Parnell did as he was told, leaving Vanessa with another glass of champagne and his sincerest apology for the interruption. It would only be a moment, he promised. With Vanessa barely suppressing her annoyance, he joined Kang in the study. Kang had tuned the stereo to a BBC broadcast of the London Philharmonic and aimed the speakers toward the windows.

‘I hope you like classical music. I find that it soothes my nerves.’

‘What do you want?’ Parnell, who had always prided himself on his emotional control, bit back on the irritation that was beginning to seep through his well-built facade.

‘You know what I want,’ Kang replied, enjoying Parnell’s discomfort. ‘I’m here to provide you with the tools to get it for me. Next Friday, the computer containing the cipher files will be connected to Moy’s network for a software transfer to the U.S. government. Several electronic file transfers will take place that day. One will be ours.’

Kang reached into his coat pocket and handed Parnell a cassette tape.’These instructions will allow you to access Moy’s network safely during the transfer window.’

‘If you have the codes to Moy’s computer, why do you need me at all? You can buy a computer with a modem down the street and do it yourself.’

‘True, but I lack your experience with Moy’s network. You are familiar with that environment and have penetrated it successfully in the past. I want that measure of security for this project.’Kang had no intention of letting Parnell off the hook so close to the end. ‘The instructions on that tape will only get you into the network. Once there, you will require an additional set of passwords to authorize the transfer of the cipher files.’

It seemed strange to Parnell that Ba would have everything but the passwords required to get the ciphers. What kind of game was he playing? ‘Where are the passwords?’

‘I will have them when the time comes,’ Kang assured him. ‘We will meet in your office, next Friday at five o’clock.’

‘I’ll see that all the necessary preparations are made. What about my money?’

‘Once I have the ciphers, I will authorize the final payment to your Cayman account. When we have concluded our business, destroy that drive,’Kang advised. ‘After Friday, it will be little more than a dangerous souvenir.’

Parnell studied the USB flash drive warily. In the hands of a prosecutor, it would be more than enough to convict him of espionage.

Kang rose and straightened his jacket. ‘You will not hear from me again until Friday. Do you have any questions before I leave?’

‘No,’ Parnell replied, pleased that this impromptu meeting was at an end.

‘Good. Until Friday, then.’ Kang walked out of the study, gave a polite nod of apology to Parnell’s dinner guest, and left.

‘What was that all about, Ian,’Vanessa asked, ‘that odd Chinese fellow and the loud music?’

‘He’s a client, dear, and a bit of an eccentric,’ Parnell lied, though his exasperation with the visit was genuine. ‘He wanted to talk some business, and everything is urgent in his mind. He pays well, so I put up with his quirks. With his needs addressed, I can now focus my attention on more important matters. More champagne, love?’

‘Afterward,’ she murmured as she slipped into his waiting embrace.

May 10

Grin and Kilkenny were attending to their regular duties, the ones that they had occasionally neglected while tinkering with the Spyder, when Harbke and Ullrich arrived with two uniformed officers from the Ann Arbor Police Department.

‘Afternoon, ladies,’ Grin offered warmly.

‘William Grinelli and Nolan Kilkenny, I have warrants for your arrest,’ Ullrich announced in a clear, official voice. ‘You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?’

‘Yes,’ Kilkenny replied. ‘What I don’t understand is why. What are we being charged with?’

‘In light of some new evidence, you are both being charged with twenty-four counts of computer and telephone fraud,’ Ullrich replied.

The police officers handcuffed an angry Kilkenny and a bewildered Grin and led them to a waiting squad car. The FBI held a press conference in Detroit to announce the arrests as the result of an ongoing investigation. The FBI estimated the damage caused by Grinelli and Kilkenny in the millions of dollars. News of their arrests shocked the research and academic community around the country, and denunciations followed quickly on news broadcasts and in the papers.

May 11

Harmon pulled the case files for the Cole investigation and set them on his desk. Four months of investigative work lay summarized in the stack of paper sitting before him. Somewhere inside that stack, Harmon hoped to find an answer that had eluded him thus far.

When he had first started this investigation, Cole was an enigma to him. Over the past months, he’d become so familiar with the details of Michael Cole’s life that he had begun to understand the kind of person this man had been. This understanding caused new questions to arise in Harmon’s mind.

From what he had seen of Cole’s record keeping, the man was fanatical. Cole had kept every receipt, every bill, and every financial statement that he’d ever received. If the IRS had ever decided to audit this man, he would have buried them in documentation.

Other aspects of Cole’s life were much the same-compartmentalized and rigidly ordered. The term his ex-wife used was control freak. This habitual need for organization raised a serious question for Harmon: If Cole had maintained records for everything, where were his notes on the money?

Someone with Cole’s compulsiveness about record keeping couldn’t possibly leave such a significant sum of money off his books completely. It had to be recorded somewhere.

After another pass through the file, which he had practically memorized, Harmon got up from his desk for a stretch. Cole must have hidden the secret of his new-found wealth; Harmon could feel it. He also knew that he needed a fresh perspective.

‘I’ll be down in the evidence lockup,’ he informed the department receptionist as he left.

After the FBI was assigned the domestic side of the investigation, Cole’s personal records had been seized as evidence and placed in the basement storage area. There were three full-height file cabinets, as well as several boxes containing Cole’s computer equipment, disks, and miscellaneous items that had been cataloged and stored. Mail from both of Cole’s apartments was still being collected and forwarded to the FBI, several boxes of which sat on a shelf near the file cabinets. The catalog sheet noted that a box of new mail had been added since Harmon’s last visit.

Harmon thumbed through the stack; most of it was junk mail, along with a few computer magazines and flyers. At the bottom of the box, he found a bundle of envelopes held together with a rubber band. Harmon pulled the bundle out and began sorting through the letters.