“Mr. Lee,” said Jim. “This is Jim Kincaid. You called me the other day with a job offer.”
“Yes, Jim,” said Lee. “Is there a problem?”
“No sir,” said Jim. “I haven’t received the written offer in the mail yet but I have given the job some thought and I would like to accept it.”
“That’s fine, Jim,” said Lee. “The job starts on June 1st and we will look forward to seeing you then. Just make sure you sign and return the form that will come with the offer.”
“I can start sooner,” offered Jim. “I’m very flexible.” Jim was thinking the sooner he got away from MacEwan the better.
“Thanks for the offer but, unfortunately, I won’t be ready for you until June 1st. We have a big contract starting then and everything we are doing revolves around that date.”
“I see,” said Jim, disappointed. He had also been hoping he could start early to use the extra income to begin paying off Verde.
“Sorry, Jim,” said Lee. “But let me welcome you to NAT. We’re looking forward to having you on our team.”
“Thanks,” said Jim and he then hung up the phone. Two seconds after he hung up his phone rang. “Kincaid,” said Jim.
“Ah, good. I am glad you are there Mr. Kincaid,” said the familiar voice of Giuseppe Verde.”
Jim’s heart sank. He had been hoping that Verde would leave him alone for a while to collect the information he requested. “Yes, Mr. Verde,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“Have you been able to gather the information I requested on Monday?”
“No, sir,” lied Jim. “I haven’t been able to get into the records yet.”
There were two seconds of silence at the other end of the line. “I do hope you are being truthful with me, Mr. Kincaid,” said Verde. “The repercussions … well, the repercussions could be serious. I would hate for anything to happen that we would both regret.”
Jim’s stomach was being tied into knots as his listened to Verde’s threats. He knew that the threats were not idle and that Verde could do anything he promised.
“No sir,” said Jim. “I mean … yes sir, I am telling you the truth,” said Jim. Jim was very nervous now and he was sure that Verde could hear how nervous he was.
“Bene,” said Verde. “Very good. Now, while you are working on that problem perhaps you could do me another favour.”
“Another favour?” asked Jim frantically. Jim blurted out the words before he could think and they came out as an angry accusation.
“Yes,” said Verde calmly. “Another favour. This one is a little more interesting. Not just bank records this time. You might want to write this down. Are you ready?”
Jim sighed and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from his desk drawer. “Ready,” he said, resigned to his fate. He was going to have to do this mobster “favours” for the rest of his life. And he could not think of a way to make any of this stop.
“I have a problem with another client,” he began sorrowfully. “This is a sad story. This man is married with three children in Toronto but I think he is keeping a mistress in Montreal. I need you to look for bank and telephone records that would prove that he has this mistress.” Verde gave Jim the name, address and telephone number of the mistress. He then gave the name, address and telephone number of the client.
“Isn’t that the Attorney General of Ontario?”
Verde laughed. “And I thought you spent all of your time on your computer,” he said. “Yes, that’s who it is.”
“Why do you need this information on the mistress?” asked Jim.
There was a pause. “I like to know the people I am dealing with,” said Verde. “I don’t want to deal with adulterers.”
The answer annoyed Jim. Here he was talking to a loan shark who was probably also a drug dealer and a murderer. And this crook was worried about dealing with adulterers? But Jim also knew that, at the moment, there was little he could do to get out of this predicament.
Jim had not said anything for a while when Verde said, “You don’t believe me?”
“Sure,” said Jim, a little sarcasm coming through in his voice. “I believe you.”
“Look,” said Verde. “Remember when you wanted to loan money from me?”
“Yes.”
“Remember I wanted to meet you in person?”
“Yes.”
“Remember how I wanted to know as much about you as possible?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s the same with this Attorney General. I need to know everything about the man, including whether or not he is cheating on his wife and his family.”
“I’m just not comfortable with spying on someone,” said Jim. “Especially the Attorney General of Ontario.”
Verde did not seem upset by this response. “Look,” he said. “In this case it is perfectly legal. I have a signed release from my client saying that I can investigate him in any way I see fit. There is no problem.”
For a fleeting instant Jim thought about asking for a copy of the release but he then dismissed the idea. Verde would either refuse or would provide a forgery.
Verde misread the silence as reluctance. “Mr. Kincaid, I would not like my boss to find out about your lack of support for us, especially after we have loaned you so much money. My boss is not as personable as I am. Or as forgiving.”
“I understand,” said Jim.
Verde’s voice turned tougher. “I’m not sure you do,” said Verde, raising his voice as he spoke. “Even if you are not concerned about the fate of your mother, I am.” Jim winced. “She didn’t seem to enjoy being robbed at gunpoint once and I think she would absolutely hate it a second time. Or something worse might happen.”
Jim exploded. “Don’t you dare hurt my mother!” he yelled into the phone. The phone was shaking in his hand.
Verde laughed. “Mr. Kincaid, you are so bright in so many ways and so stupid in others. I don’t want to hurt your mother. I am just trying to make sure you understand what is at stake here.”
“I understand,” said Jim for the second time during the conversation, this time with his teeth clenched. He was trying to calm down since his outburst.
Verde’s voice returned to his normal, calm tone. “And I have an offer for you,” he said. “As long as we are in business together I will provide your mother with protection.” He paused. “Free of charge,” he said, as if this were a genuine perk, like a health care plan.
“I’ll get you the information,” said Jim.
“Good,” said Verde. “And don’t forget about the other favour.” The line went dead.
For the rest of the day Jim could not concentrate on his work and spent much of his time thinking about how much worse off he was now that he had loaned the money. Toward the end of the day MacEwan walked past his desk and noticed him staring into space.
“I hope this is not indicative of how you work when you push yourself,” said MacEwan.
Jim spun around in his chair and looked up at MacEwan. “Sorry,” said Jim. “I guess I was just thinking.”
“You had better start working harder,” said MacEwan. “Or you might have to start looking for another job.”
Again, Jim decided this was not the time to tell MacEwan he was leaving at the end of the month. Instead, dutifully, Jim said “Yes sir.”
MacEwan stormed away.
***
As he was heading out of the office, Ben dropped by Jim’s desk to find him with his face in his hands.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ben. Jim looked up. His face was white. “What’s the matter?” repeated Ben.
Jim shook his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, in a quiet voice, barely audible.
Ben looked very concerned. “Come on, buddy,” he said putting a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s better to tell someone.”
“I don’t know,” said Jim, still talking quietly. “I’ve backed myself into a real corner.”
Ben thought for a moment.
“Is it related to work?” he asked.
“No.”
“Personal?”
“In a way.”
“Penny?”
“No.”
“Hacking?”
“In a way.”
“Your Mom?”
“In a way.”
Ben felt he was getting nowhere. How could it be related to both hacking and his mother? He could see that Jim was not going to tell him what was going on unless he could guess it. What had happened recently that could have spelled doom for Jim? Was there anything he knew about? Had Jim asked his advice on anything? Had Ben advised Jim on anything? Wait! He had warned Jim about something but Jim wouldn’t listen. And then he hadn’t heard anything. It was … related to Jim’s hacking. It was … Campanelli. Campanelli had offered …
“It’s Campanelli’s uncle, isn’t it?” asked Ben. He was now more angry than concerned.
Sheepishly, Jim looked up at Ben. “Yes.”
“He’s a crook, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And you loaned money from him, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Twenty five,” said Jim.
“You loaned twenty five hundred dollar from a crook?” Ben was incredulous.
“Twenty five thousand,” said Jim.
All of the blood drained from Ben’s face. “Shit,” he said, and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand.
“‘Shit’ is right,” said Jim.
“So, aside from the fact you owe this crook money, what’s the problem?” asked Ben.
“He wants me to hack into the credit card and telephone company computers to dig up dirt on people.”
“Extortion?”
“I think so.”
“Who are the people?”
“The first one was some Chinese guy who left town.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Sure, hold on,” said Jim. “Zhao Ziyang. I think that’s it.”
“Never heard of him,” said Ben, but he had already made a mental note of the name.
“Me either,” said Jim.
Both Ben and Jim were silent for a while before Ben spoke up. “I knew there was something funny going on in Toronto,” said Ben. “Is your Mom involved?”
“In a way.”
Ben blew up. “In a way!? Enough with ‘in a way’! Is your Mom involved?”
“Oh yeah,” said Jim. “They robbed her and then they threatened her to get to me.”
“Oh my God.”
“And now they are threatening to hurt her.”
Ben turned very stern. “Jim, you have to call the police. Actually, I think you need to contact the RCMP.”
“I’ve thought of that,” said Jim. “But I’m worried they’ll hurt Mom.”
“The problem,” began Ben, thoughtfully. “Is that they might hurt her anyway. You have to call the RCMP.”
“I can’t.”
Ben decided he would revisit this later. He could see he was not going to convince Jim right now. He decided to change topic. “Did you call NAT?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“So did we,” said Ben. “June 1st?”
“Yeah.”
***
When he returned to his apartment, Jim decided he needed a break from the tribulations related to Verde and so he called Penny. Given their previous date he was surprised that he was nervous again.
“Hello?”
“Hi there,” said Jim. “It’s Jim, Jim Kincaid.”
Penny laughed. “I don’t know that many people in town,” she said. “You can just say it’s Jim.”
“Okay,” he said. “How was yoga?”
“Oh, fine,” she said. “Have you irritated any waitresses lately?”
“Not since yesterday,” said Jim.
“Good. Neither have I.”
Jim was please that their banter had not reverted back to the stilted, awkward conversation they had had at the beginning of their date but he was worried that it still might. He tried to keep the conversation moving.
“I had a good time yesterday,” said Jim.
“So did I,” said Penny. “But I have to admit I was worried at the beginning.”
“You too?” asked Jim.
“Oh yeah!” she said, seemingly relieved he felt the same way. “Blind dates are tough.”
“The worst,” said Jim. He was starting to feel comfortable again.
They continued to talk for an hour about everything: movies, food, Cily, Ottawa. Finally Jim decided to ask the all important question. He had hoped to find a good point in the conversation to ask it but that point never came. When he did ask it he thought it dropped like a bomb out of the blue in the middle of an unrelated topic.
“Feel like going out for dinner?” he asked, reverting to his earlier nervousness.
“Sounds good,” she said. She did not seem startled at the question. “When?”
Although he had expected she would want to go for dinner, he was still relieved at her answer. He thought to himself. Today was Wednesday. Between MacEwan and Verde, he was swamped for the rest of the week.
“How about Saturday night?”
“Sure,” said Penny. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know,” said Jim. He really hadn’t given it any thought.
“How about something really casual?” asked Penny.
“Sure. What do you have in mind?”
“How about Lone Star?”
“Tex-Mex?”
“Exactly,” she said.
“Why not?” he asked. “Sounds good.” He liked the idea of casual. He also like the idea of a place set up for drinking. It would keep him calm. He also realized that he had enjoyed talking to Penny tonight and he would like an excuse to talk to her before Saturday. He was really starting to feel comfortable with her. Surprising really, he thought, after just one date and a couple telephone calls.
“I’ll call you before Saturday to set up a time,” said Jim.
“Okay,” said Penny. “But any time is good for me. I have not plans at all on Saturday.”
After he had finished talking with Penny, Jim spent most of the night looking for e-mails, bank records, and credit card transactions for the Attorney General of Ontario. In order to distance himself from the man, Jim was beginning to think of him more generically as “the politician”. He felt he could stall Verde for several more days but he wanted to have the information just in case Verde got testy.
The politician had made no effort to cover his tracks and it was easy to prove that he had a mistress. There were numerous phone calls from his Toronto home to her apartment in Montreal. Jim was also able to trace his travel itineraries through his credit cards. He was able to show that he spent several days a month in Montreal and had made telephone calls from the hotel to his mistress’s apartment. He also found several large purchases from a Montreal jewellery store during his visits to Montreal. And because the politician never made jewellery purchases in any other city he visited, it was very unlikely the jewellery was for his wife. Finally, if the circumstantial financial and telephone evidence was not enough, the e-mails he retrieved between the Attorney General and his mistress were so steamy that they would even bring a blush to a sex therapist’s cheek.
Chapter 17 - The Summary
Thu May 13th
The desk was littered with newspapers from across the country and faxes of newspaper articles from around the world. There were so many overlapping newspapers that, without removing a paper from the pile, it would be impossible to read an article. Mintz had ordered the papers for several reasons. First, a terrorist incident so close by was an occurrence with which he should be familiar. Second, though he did not understand the separatist agenda, Mintz was fascinated by the events surrounding the kidnapping.
Mintz felt he could learn the kidnapping and from terrorism in general. Terrorists used psychological warfare to push others to agree to their te
rms. They also had to be well organized in order to execute their plans. Although Mintz would never consider using terrorism per se, he felt that there were lessons to be learned from studying the incident.
The newspapers and faxes all reported the same story in the same tone, having changed the nature of their reports from casual observation to critical interest. Before today the kidnapping of the Transport Minister was a serious but slow moving story, one that had been dragging out for lack of action. With the latest events it had become clear that the story was becoming a whole lot more interesting.
The events signalling a change were precipitated through a statement by the terrorists announcing categorically that they were tired of dealing with the RCMP. In the statement, issued in French only, they stated that by cutting off the minister’s ear over a week ago, they had hoped to send a one time message to the authorities that they were serious. Then, by sending the minister’s finger, they had reiterated the message. But now, after a week of flip flopping by both the government and the RCMP, the terrorists had concluded that the authorities were just stalling for time.
In the statement the terrorists reminded their audience of the repercussions of ignoring their warnings. They promised a final warning which, they said, was designed to capture the attention of, not just the Canadian government and the RCMP, but also the world media. It was a warning designed to be more shocking than a package containing an ear or a finger. In order to increase the shock value of the event, they had sent the package, not to the RCMP or even to the Prime Minister’s office, but to the Transport Minister’s home, addressed to his wife.
The package had come in an innocuous brown paper package using an inexpensive local parcel delivery service. The poor woman signed for the package and brought it into the kitchen to open. When she removed the contents and read the note she had fainted immediately, cracking her hip bone on the ceramic floor. Sitting on the kitchen island was a glass jar filled with a liquid and something floating in it. Inside the jar, floating in formaldehyde, and labelled neatly on the front of the bottle, was one of the Transport Minister’s testicles.
When Mintz had read the details of the latest tactic from the terrorists he was appalled. He saw little purpose in this shockingly barbaric act because he felt there were other actions that could have yielded similar results. And yet, again, in the back of his mind he understood. The terrorists were plying the media with the sensationalism that the public craved. Combined with their political message they had packaged both personal tragedy and sexuality, key components of any successful media story. The media jumped on this opportunity, predictably gorging on the sensational content to boost their ratings. Concern for the victims and for public welfare just did not seem to enter into the equation.
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