CHAPTER 29 (The Wrong Lawyers)
Corbett knocked on my door on Wednesday afternoon.
“What do you want?” I asked sarcastically.
“For the first time in history, Kennedy, I have to admit that you had something fascinating to say. Ever since I woke up this morning I’ve been mulling over the things we discussed yesterday.”
“I’ve been doing the same thing. Grab a seat and we can hash over the issues while we’re not half soused. Just a minute while I put my phones in the bedroom and close the door so Harlan can’t record our conversation.”
“If you don’t mind, Tom, I’d like Harlan to listen to what we say.”
“Suit yourself. I guess I can live with that. Do you want me to ensure that he does hear us?”
“Yes I would.”
I turned my cell phone on and placed it beside us. My land line was also only ten feet away from where we were sitting.
“This is a message for Harlan D. Matthews from Thomas Kennedy. Jim Corbett and I feel that you need to monitor our discussion this afternoon. We’ll be talking about Bander Haddad, Tom Kennedy, Mandy Franklin, The Washington Independent, terrorism and intrusive spying by the American government agencies into our private lives.”
I turned to Jim.
“That should be sufficient to get the attention of Harlan’s computer retrieval system. What do you want to talk about first?”
“Women,” Jim answered. “Despite the fact that Lynne and Linda aren’t really compatible with our somewhat puritan moral code, I loved having female companionship, and not just because of the sex. It was extremely comforting to be able to bare one’s soul to someone new. I’ve changed my mind about remaining celibate. We’re not priests and I think we should dip our toes back in the dating pool again.”
“I can live with that. Even though Linda and I didn’t have sex, kissing her brought back all the emotions I used to feel when I was younger. Where are we going to find available divorced women of a suitable age?”
“I’m not sure, but there must be a ton of them out there. Let’s start our hunt for true love this weekend. There’s a new watering hole called Gatsby’s downtown near the court house which is supposed to be popular. Let’s head there on Friday and check out the after work crowd. Apparently a lot of professionals unwind there to celebrate the end of the work week.”
“I’m amenable to doing that,” I replied.
“Good, because I’ve decided that I don’t want to live alone for the rest of my life. Harlan, sorry to bore you with this romantic chat but now Tom and I will delve into your field of expertise.”
Jim turned his gaze from the telephones back to me.
“I was appalled to learn how thoroughly these spy agencies are learning how to monitor us. Listening in on our private phone calls and looking at our e-mails was bad enough, and I tended to believe that I didn’t have anything serious to hide so I could tolerate that level of intrusion. How do you feel about that?”
“I’d prefer that the government was required to obtain a court order before they tap into our calls and e-mails. Actually I believed that doing so was a legal requirement, but obviously the technology has overtaken the legalities. The enhancements that Harlan is developing are quite terrifying.”
“I agree totally. The ability to monitor private conversations anywhere near a phone or computer is shocking. Harlan, just because you have the expertise to invent something doesn’t mean that you should do it. I’m recommending that you terminate your research and retire. What you’re experimenting with could ruin society.”
“Harlan, I totally agree with Jim. Sit back and think about the intensely personal information that you inadvertently discovered about Jim. What possible good can come from that type of blanket monitoring? It seems best to let your information retrieval invention die on the vine, at least until your government has the opportunity to discuss publicly the privacy versus intelligence issue in depth.”
Jim added, “In fact, Harlan, I feel so strongly about this matter that I feel a compulsion to stop this insane spying on innocent citizens. Tom, are you with me on this?”
“I am. Harlan, please call us so we can talk about it. Putting a human face like Jim’s on the results of such intensive spying hopefully will convince you to stop.”
On Thursday afternoon Harlan phoned me and requested that Jim and I meet in my apartment at seven in the evening in order to hash out our differences about the information gathering process.
The three of us had a lengthy three-way talk but Jim and I couldn’t persuade Harlan that what he was pioneering was a terrible thing for society.
Our little telephone chat ended abruptly when I uttered a thinly veiled challenge to our new friend who was clearly about to become our adversary again.
“Harlan,” I began, “you’ve picked the wrong lawyers to mess with.”
No sooner had I issued that threat when Matthews slammed the phone down in my ear.
I immediately led Jim into the bedroom and closed the door to ensure that we couldn’t be heard by the monitoring equipment.
“It seems that Harlan is fixated on perfecting his system, Jim. I hope you realize that if we try to stop him by going public, he has the ability to make our lives miserable.”
“Bring it on,” Jim replied forcefully. “The people have to be told what their governments are doing behind their backs.”
I replied much less confidently.
“Let’s pray that we’re the right lawyers to stop these wrongs. I’ve now had practical experience in the art of espionage but you’re a near-useless babe in the woods.”
Jim responded like a true court lawyer asshole.
“On the contrary, Harlan already knows what a boob you are. Real estate lawyers are just glorified legal secretaries. We’ll see how Mr. Matthews and his Homeland Security lackeys fare when up against a proven litigator.”
This was not a good sign. Our war against a Big Brother type government was already getting bogged down with our petty and adolescent bickering.
Perhaps we were the wrong lawyers after all to tackle the colossal government spy machine.
THE END
The Wrong Lawyer Page 13