wondered what St. Regis wanted. Dennis had requested Langley look deeper into the consul general’s background and was waiting on that report.
“In full disclosure, Mr. Cunningham, I have to tell you that I have lodged a formal complaint about you. I spoke to Mr. Roby after his meeting with you, and I will follow up with young Miss Carter as well. I don’t appreciate how you’ve treated us and wanted you to know that you’ll doubtless be hearing about it through channels. I’ve requested you be replaced with someone more agreeable.”
St. Regis proffered the wan smile again. “That’s all,” he said, opening a manila folder on his desk.
Dennis sat in the chair, staring above St. Regis’s head at a strange, primitive painting on the wall. It appeared to be a landscape in a shadow-box frame made of tree bark and dabs of white and black paint. He was momentarily captivated by its three-dimensional quality, and it gave him a good excuse to process what had just happened. He had made a stupid, self-destructive mistake. Marty would surely come down hard on him.
He sighed, looked at his watch, and said, “I have some work to do.”
St. Regis did not acknowledge him as he walked out. Dennis made his way to a small office door marked 209. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the stainless-steel key Casolano had given him. He unlocked the door, turned on the light, and looked at Geoffrey Garder’s small, windowless office.
Chapter 9
Cunningham , he kept repeating to himself, what is wrong with you?
He sat down in the small chair in Garder’s office and planted both elbows on the desk. Cradling his face on both sides with his hands, he rocked gently to and fro.
Work , he finally told himself. Get to work. Do something, for God’s sake .
So he began to bore into the minutiae of Garder’s office. Nothing intrigued him more than a subject’s personal surroundings.
How a person stacked pencils or organized folders, or even maintained a supply of staples, told Dennis a lot about their personality. Of course these days it was more complicated because of the computer.
The IG’s office maintained a stable of forensic computer engineers that could retrieve old data off hard drives and deleted emails and texts from servers. That’s what he’d been told, though he was typically suspicious of all things digital.
Still, he discovered to his amazement that accomplished thieves and liars write the most incriminating emails and texts.
Dennis had already seen a list of Garder’s emails. They had been retrieved and reviewed by the two analysts from Operations. The emails turned out to be innocuous and ran the gamut from gossipy workplace items to laborious interchanges with a local rental car agency. Garder was also a member of something called a Fantasy Baseball League, and there were many emails in which he traded for real-life baseball players.
Dennis also had seen a list of websites Garder had visited, and they consisted of long URL strings. Some of the sites were obvious, like the link to the Western Australian University English Department or an eBay link to a specific watch, but many of the links were unintelligible and useless unless he sat down and entered every single link, looking for a lead.
Typically Dennis might have requested a low-level Langley analyst pore over the URLs and prepare a report, but Marty would never authorize that kind of investment in such a small case. Dennis had been told that most of the geeks in the IG’s office had been repurposed to Operations teams tracking down Al Qaida cells.
Garder’s room appeared orderly and well kept. The small metal desk had a flat-screen computer monitor, a keyboard and mouse, an oversize official US Consulate coffee mug doubling as a pencil holder, a metal ruler, a black standard telephone, a small metal table lamp, and one of those give-away stress balls. Dennis picked up the soft stress ball and read the label: Compliments of the WA Agricultural
“In full disclosure, Mr. Cunningham, I have to tell you that I have lodged a formal complaint about you. I spoke to Mr. Roby after his meeting with you, and I will follow up with young Miss Carter as well. I don’t appreciate how you’ve treated us and wanted you to know that you’ll doubtless be hearing about it through channels. I’ve requested you be replaced with someone more agreeable.”
St. Regis proffered the wan smile again. “That’s all,” he said, opening a manila folder on his desk.
Dennis sat in the chair, staring above St. Regis’s head at a strange, primitive painting on the wall. It appeared to be a landscape in a shadow-box frame made of tree bark and dabs of white and black paint. He was momentarily captivated by its three-dimensional quality, and it gave him a good excuse to process what had just happened. He had made a stupid, self-destructive mistake. Marty would surely come down hard on him.
He sighed, looked at his watch, and said, “I have some work to do.”
St. Regis did not acknowledge him as he walked out. Dennis made his way to a small office door marked 209. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the stainless-steel key Casolano had given him. He unlocked the door, turned on the light, and looked at Geoffrey Garder’s small, windowless office.
Chapter 9
Cunningham , he kept repeating to himself, what is wrong with you?
He sat down in the small chair in Garder’s office and planted both elbows on the desk. Cradling his face on both sides with his hands, he rocked gently to and fro.
Work , he finally told himself. Get to work. Do something, for God’s sake .
So he began to bore into the minutiae of Garder’s office. Nothing intrigued him more than a subject’s personal surroundings.
How a person stacked pencils or organized folders, or even maintained a supply of staples, told Dennis a lot about their personality. Of course these days it was more complicated because of the computer.
The IG’s office maintained a stable of forensic computer engineers that could retrieve old data off hard drives and deleted emails and texts from servers. That’s what he’d been told, though he was typically suspicious of all things digital.
Still, he discovered to his amazement that accomplished thieves and liars write the most incriminating emails and texts.
Dennis had already seen a list of Garder’s emails. They had been retrieved and reviewed by the two analysts from Operations. The emails turned out to be innocuous and ran the gamut from gossipy workplace items to laborious interchanges with a local rental car agency. Garder was also a member of something called a Fantasy Baseball League, and there were many emails in which he traded for real-life baseball players.
Dennis also had seen a list of websites Garder had visited, and they consisted of long URL strings. Some of the sites were obvious, like the link to the Western Australian University English Department or an eBay link to a specific watch, but many of the links were unintelligible and useless unless he sat down and entered every single link, looking for a lead.
Typically Dennis might have requested a low-level Langley analyst pore over the URLs and prepare a report, but Marty would never authorize that kind of investment in such a small case. Dennis had been told that most of the geeks in the IG’s office had been repurposed to Operations teams tracking down Al Qaida cells.
Garder’s room appeared orderly and well kept. The small metal desk had a flat-screen computer monitor, a keyboard and mouse, an oversize official US Consulate coffee mug doubling as a pencil holder, a metal ruler, a black standard telephone, a small metal table lamp, and one of those give-away stress balls. Dennis picked up the soft stress ball and read the label: Compliments of the WA Agricultural
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