White Cell

by B Regan Asher

  “My treat,” he said and pulled out a thick wad of bills from his wallet and counted out enough for to cover the bill.

  Ben was aghast. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “You’ve been carrying me long enough,” said Jim. “It’s my turn to reciprocate.”

  “But where did you get the money?” asked Ben. Jim ignored him and Ben did not press him but the look on Ben’s face was one of concern.

  When they returned to the office everyone was huddled around a radio on Sondra Dunn’s desk. “What’s going on?” asked Jim.

  “The FLQ have said they will send another body part unless the government accedes to its demand for a referendum,” said Sondra.

  “But I thought the RCMP was already listening to the demands.”

  “Sure,” said Sondra. “But they haven’t done anything yet. Everyone now thinks that the RCMP has no idea how to solve the case or how to negotiate with the FLQ. And some people are speculating that they might now have to give in to this referendum. I can tell you that there is a lot of resistance to that.”

  “I bet,” said Jim.

  ***

  Leaning back in his desk chair, Mintz was reading from an open file folder in his office on the 30th floor. He had been reading for a few minutes when he stopped, closed the file, sat up, and pressed the intercom button.

  “Madeleine,” he said. “Please have Peter Lee see me right away.”

  “Yes sir,” said Madeleine

  Ten minutes passed before Madeleine’s voice again came over the intercom. “Dr. Lee is here.”

  “Send him in Madeleine,” said Mintz.

  Peter Lee entered Mintz’s office and sat down in one of the guest chairs. “I need an update, Peter,” began Mintz. “What is the status of the project I gave you?”

  “You mean the name on the note?” asked Peter Lee.

  “That’s the one,” said Mintz.

  “Done,” said Lee. “I hope to have everything set up next week.”

  “Good,” said Mintz, leaning forward in his chair and placing his finger tips together, his elbows sitting on his desk. “And how are we doing on the Homeland security project?”

  “We are still hiring,” said Lee. “But everything is well in hand.”

  ***

  After work Jim returned to his apartment with his hands full of groceries. He had bought enough to fill up his refrigerator and his freezer, both of which had been empty for lack of funds. Carrying not only the groceries but his briefcase as well, he struggled to balance the bags as he fumbled for his keys to unlock his apartment door. As he opened the door he heard the telephone ringing.

  He dropped the groceries and the briefcase and ran around the corner to the kitchen to answer the phone. He picked up the wall phone and then leaned against the wall, out of breath.

  “Hello?” he said, breathing heavily.

  “Hello?” said the female voice at the other end of the line.

  “Who is this?” he asked.

  “Who is this?” asked the caller.

  “Look,” said Jim. “You called me so I think you should tell me who you are first.”

  “Not exactly,” said the voice. It was a soothing voice, thought Jim, very calm and collected. “Someone called me four times yesterday from your telephone number and I am just trying to find out what it is all about.”

  Jim couldn’t think who had had called four times. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said.

  “Fine,” said the voice, clearly annoyed. “My telephone number is 555-3231. Does that help?”

  “Nope,” said Jim. “Maybe you wrote the number down wrong.”

  “Alright,” said the voice. “I need to know what’s going on. Against my better judgement I’ll tell you my name. My name is Pen—”

  A flicker of recognition registered on Jim’s face. My God, he thought, these things always come back to haunt me. He interrupted the voice at the other end of the line.

  “Penny Stein,” said Jim, completing the name, as he began to slide down the wall, until he landed on the floor.

  “Right,” said Penny. “Now you remember?”

  “I do,” said Jim. “Sorry about that. I’ve been awfully busy these last few days.”

  “So, who are you?” she asked. Jim could not tell if she was angry, frightened or frustrated.

  “My name is Jim Kincaid,” he said. “I’m a friend of …”

  “You’re a friend of Cily’s,” said Penny, finishing his sentence. Her voice tone had changed. She was certainly not frightened now.

  “Right!” he said.

  “Cily told me you would call but she didn’t tell me that you would keep hanging up.” Jim thought he heard what could have been the beginning of a laugh in her tone.

  “I didn’t hang up,” protected Jim. “You didn’t answer.”

  “It’s hard to answer when the phone only rings once,” she said.

  “I think I got a little distracted on some of the calls,” explained Jim.

  “Uh huh.” It sounded to Jim as if she did not believe him. “Well, whatever,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  Now Jim was caught but, before he answered her question, he remembered how well things had been going for him recently. He had his finances straightened out. He had a new job offer in hand. Why should he not be able to go out on a blind date? Jim mustered up all of his will power while trying to remain calm. The worst thing would be to show fear. He knew that girls could smell fear on a guy and that fear was the kiss of death. So he decided to blame everything on Cindy.

  “Cily suggested that we meet. She told me that we would get along great but I’ve been procrastinating because I don’t like the idea of a blind date. But you know Cily! She can be persuasive.”

  “She pulled the same stunt on me,” said Penny, laughing. “I want to go out on a blind date like I want a root canal.”

  “Ditto,” said Jim. “But here we are talking …”

  “And you don’t sound too bad,” she said, finishing his sentence. Did he hear a giggle or was he just imagining it?

  “Right,” said Jim. “And, besides, if we go for a coffee and hate one another what have we lost?”

  “A coffee,” she said.

  “Right.” He paused. He knew they had already agreed on going out for a coffee but he had to actually invite her. He was still sitting on the floor and that made him feel inferior so he stood up quickly and asked the question. “Would you like to meet me for a coffee?”

  “Sure,” said Penny, and he thought she actually sounded like she liked the idea.

  ***

  After the phone call Jim went to his server room and finished the day’s financial transactions. The funds he had deposited in his four chequing accounts would only cover about 30% of his debts but he had made sure he could pay the two banks that had been hassling him this week and to whom he had promised payment by today.

  He then reviewed his list of deposits and payments for the rest of the week and set up post dated payments using internet banking. He was not sure how much time he would have through the week and he thought it best to pre-arrange the payments. He just had to make sure he made the deposits each morning, as early as possible, before the payments came out of his chequing accounts.

  Once he had completed the transactions, he began, for the first time in weeks, to resume his role as White Cell. He had been hacking for about an hour when the phone rang.

  “Hello?” he said.

  “Mr. Kincaid?” asked the caller. The man had a familiar voice.

  “That’s me,” said Jim cheerily. He was now in an excellent mood.

  “Mr. Kincaid,” said the caller. “This is Giuseppe Verde.” Now Jim knew why the voice sounded familiar.

  “Hello Mr. Verde,” said Jim. “What can I do for you?”

  “I am glad you asked,” Mr. Kincaid. “But first, have you made good use of the loan?”

  “Oh yes,” said Jim, ebullient. “Everything is going very
well. Thank you so much for your help.”

  “Bene,” said Verde. “I am pleased. Now you had asked what you could do for me and I have a favour to ask.”

  “Anything I can do,” said Jim.

  “Good. I knew I could count on you. I have a business problem that I think you may be able to help me solve. One of my … clients … has decided to leave town. This happens very rarely in my business. I understand you have an uncanny ability to track down information so I was hoping you could track him down for me.”

  “What?” asked Jim. He could not believe what he was hearing.

  “For example, you could track him down by his credit card transactions,” suggested Verde.

  Jim’s face sank and turned white. This was not the kind of favour he thought Verde would be asking for. “I’m sorry, Mr. Verde. But what you are asking for is illegal.”

  Verde was unfazed. “There are shades of legality, Mr. Kincaid. This is a minor transgression used to right a wrong. I am sure that the law can be bent in this case.”

  Jim decided to stand firm. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t help you,” he said naively, not yet attributing the articles he had read on the Verde crime family to Verde. “Perhaps the bank or the police can help you.”

  “Yes,” said Verde. “I’m sure you are right. But it is our policy to handle these matters internally.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Verde. If there is anything I can do that does not break the law I would be happy to do it.” Jim paused to think. “By the way, Mr. Verde, why did you think I would have the ability to trace credit card transactions?”

  “Oh, we have our sources,” said Verde. Then he changed his voice tone. It became coarse, less business like, and more threatening. “But I am afraid I will have to insist on this favour Mr. Kincaid,” said Verde. “You must help me on this occasion. After all, I have done you a favour so you can do me a favour.”

  Jim was not happy about the tone and was getting worried. He thought back to his research on Verde’s crime family yet he held firm. “I’m sorry, sir. I really am. I would like to help you but I can’t.”

  “You know, Mr. Kincaid,” said Verde. “Originally I thought you would only be useful to me because of your position in CCRA. Then I found out about your extended abilities with computers and information. Given that I would have normally asked for information from the CCRA computers, I would think the favour I am now asking would be more palatable.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Jim. “But I can’t help you.”

  “That’s too bad,” said Verde, his voice again softer, more amenable to reason. Jim relaxed but he should not have. After what Verde would say next, Jim would never relax with Giuseppe Verde again. Verde continued. “I would hate for anything to happen to your mother,” he said. “I am told she is quite a nice woman.”

  Jim’s throat constricted and he started to have trouble breathing. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. The world was a different place. He would never look at anything in the same way again. All of a sudden, everything made sense to Jim. His mother’s robbery was no coincidence, it was a direct result of his actions. This man had arranged the robbery just so he could make this threat today. And there was nothing, nothing at all, that Jim could do to help his mother other than agree to Verde’s terms. In just a few seconds, with just a few words, Giuseppe Verde had force Jim to resign himself to his fate.

  “I understand,” said Jim, quietly and quite slowly. “I need the client’s name and his credit card number.”

  Chapter 15 - The Date

  Tue May 11th

  When his alarm woke him on Tuesday morning Jim felt ill. Feeling guilty about his mother’s robbery and unable to deal with it, he had had much too much to drink the night before. He stumbled out of bed, picked up his newspaper from outside his door and threw it onto the kitchen table without looking at it. With a throbbing headache he took a long, hot shower in an effort to alleviate the pain. After the shower, feeling no better, he decided to take two extra strength aspirins.

  When finally dressed, he made some toast and coffee and sat down in the kitchen with the newspaper. He could not believe it when he saw the banner headline: “Government will not give in to terrorists says PM”. Could these guys not decide what they were going to do?

  As he walked to work he was oblivious to a picture perfect day. A perfectly clear blue sky and crisp clear air did not mesh with his ongoing headache. Late to work for the second time in a week, he again missed his coffee with Ben. When he walked through the front doors of the CCRA offices heading straight for his desk, he saw Cindy running towards him excitedly with her arms flailing.

  “I heard! I heard!” she yelled. “You called Penny!” She was jumping up and down as she ran toward him. As he watched her she reminded him of a blonde haired, blue eyed, school girl he had known with long curls and a skipping rope.

  “Calm down,” said Jim, wincing, and holding one hand to his still aching head.

  “It’s just so great,” said Cindy. “Finally, you do what you said you would do.” She did not seem to notice that he was in some pain.

  “That’s a little harsh,” said Jim defensively. “And untrue.”

  “Well, it may be an exaggeration,” conceded Cindy, now crossing her arms across her chest. “But still, I can hardly wait to hear how you two get along.”

  ***

  Across the desk from Mintz sat the man, his soft leather briefcase sitting once again on the floor beside his chair. Mintz was talking to him but the man was transfixed by the view, just like the last time he was in this office.

  “Are you listening to me?” asked Mintz.

  “Yes sir,” said the man, turning to look back at Mintz.

  “Good. Then let’s hear your report.” Mintz was curt, clearly irritated by the man’s lack of focus.

  The man reached into his briefcase and retrieved a sheaf of papers. “The subject has done some unusual things,” began the man. He then described in detail the work his company had performed. Once the man had finished, Mintz sat back in his chair, looking contemplative.

  “You are sure about your information?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” said the man.

  “This doesn’t sound right. I may have to get an independent opinion.”

  “It’s your money, Mr. Mintz,” said the man, shrugging. “Personally, I wouldn’t throw it away on a duplicate investigation but, if you need corroborating evidence, then that’s your call.”

  Mintz thought for a moment. “Thank you,” he said. “That will be all.”

  The man rose, collected his briefcase, and turned to leave. When he reached the door he turned back to Mintz. “Just to confirm, Mr. Mintz,” said the man.

  “Yes?”

  “You want us to continue our work?”

  “For now, yes,” said Mintz.

  “Last week you had said we would discuss whether or not we should continue with this work.”

  “And we have just discussed it,” said Mintz.

  “Will you let me know the result of any new investigation?”

  “Absolutely.”

  ***

  At morning break Jim retrieved two more packets of money from his briefcase sitting under his desk and made the deposits at two different banks without telling anyone he had left the building. When he quietly returned to his desk a half hour later he returned to his work.

  Ben came by his desk at lunch time and he and Jim went down to the coffee shop. After they had both bought sandwiches and coffees, they sat down at a table in the back of the shop.

  “What do you have there?” asked Jim, pointing to Ben’s sandwich.

  “Ham and cheese,” said Ben.

  Jim winced. “What’s the matter?” asked Ben.

  “I just find it odd that a nice Jewish boy like you continues to eat swine.”

  Ben laughed. “I eat my lunch with swine. Why should what I eat be any different?”

  Jim smiled. “Touché.”

  �
��Besides,” said Ben. “I find it odd that a nice Catholic boy like you does not eat swine.” Jim smiled but did not say anything.

  “By the way,” said Ben after taking a big bite of his sandwich and talking while his mouth was still full of food. “I heard the good news.”

  “News?”

  “Yeah,” said Ben. “You called Penny. Congratulations. You now not only have Cily off your back but you also have her eternal gratitude.”

  Jim, having also taking a bit of his sandwich, shook his head. He finished chewing and then replied to Ben. “Actually, don’t tell Cily, but I didn’t exactly call Penny.”

  “Huh?”

  Jim filled Ben in on the way he had called Penny several times but each time had hung up the phone. When he told him how Penny had called him back, Ben laughed.

  “So it was an accident,” said Ben. “I should have figured. You’re such a weenie.”

  “I know,” said Jim.

  “So when’s the date?”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Jim. “But it’ll just be a coffee. You know … just in case.”

  When Jim returned to his desk after lunch, he looked in the briefcase again. There was still a lot of money to deposit and he was beginning to get antsy. He wanted to pay off some more debts and he wanted to get all of this money out of sight. He was also more than a little worried about being robbed. He decided to bring his deposit schedule forward and removed two more bundles of bills from the briefcase. It took him forty five minutes this time, but he deposited both bundles in the bank accounts. When he returned he quickly looked around his desk to make sure no one was watching. He then picked up the phone and called Penny at work.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Penny?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Jim, Jim Kincaid.”

  “Hello Jim,” she said in a quiet tone. She was so reserved, he thought. He loved that. It seemed so classy.

  “Would you like to meet for coffee after work today?” asked Jim.

  “Sure,” said Penny. “I live downtown but I work at the General Hospital. I can be back downtown at, say, 5:30. How’s that?”

  Her question did not register because Jim was lost in a daydream. He liked her voice. It was steady and sure. Penny was not at all like Cindy. Cindy was drop dead gorgeous but she was a bimbo. He liked Cindy, he really did, but Cindy was not his type. He wondered if maybe Cindy could have been right about this Penny and him. He also liked the fact that she worked in a hospital. That was a good place for a girl to work, he thought. It showed compassion. It also showed that he was a damned chauvinist, he thought.