by Paul Dueweke
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jenner is Scorned
FBI Scientist Linked to Espionage. The page-ten article caught Sherwood’s eye as he scanned the news.
“A member of an elite FBI technology-group was linked to the sale of government secrets to underworld agents. The leak had been under investigation for several months, and sufficient evidence had been accumulated by the FBI and local law enforcement agencies to bring the scientist before a grand jury.
“The night before the planned arrest, however, the suspect was murdered in her apartment. There was no sign of forced entry, and the suspect’s nude body was found in the bathroom after a neighbor reported that her shower had been running all night. A single puncture wound was found in her back just below her left shoulder blade. An autopsy report is pending.
“The scientist’s name has not yet been released because the espionage investigation is continuing. It is believed, however, that an organized-crime group, which deals in stolen government and industrial data, was responsible for the attack. Three such groups have been under investigation by the FBI in southern California for years.
“An FBI spokesperson said, ‘The syndicates under investigation have purchased highly sensitive information in the past and have found ready markets for it both domestically and abroad. They generally locate an individual who has access to some desired data and who has accumulated a burden of overdue debts. Such a person is susceptible to overtures of easy money. We believe that is what may have happened in this situation.’
“The state attorney general and the FBI have promised an all out investigation against these groups to stop the trade of illegal information. ‘This kind of activity represents a drain on the security and competitiveness of our society, and we are determined to see it come to an end,’ the Assistant Attorney General was quoted.”
Sherwood slowly lowered the newspaper and stared without emotion at the opposing wall. He fumbled in his pocket for his pipe, but it was absent. He panicked for a moment until he realized that he had left his favorite pipe at the office, but a surrogate was within reach. After setting it to smolder, Sherwood read the article once more.
Sounds like a COPE cover, he thought. Could it really be?
He walked to the one window in his living room where the once-white shears veiled the world outside. Pulling one shear aside, he looked at the street three stories below and examined the disciplined array of bricks leading up the wall. He saw thousands of neatly arranged footholds for a rock climbing genius. He turned toward the door to the hallway. That cipher lock seemed secure enough when he moved in; but that was before spiders. How easy it would be for one to break in there.
It is still possible, he thought, that the COPE computer does not even relate me to Jenner or know that she passed any information to me. He paused and looked toward the door once more. Then again, maybe Jenner is still alive.
He picked up his cell phone, paused, and replaced it on the table. This might be a better job for lands. He approached his land-line phone slowly, afraid of what it might tell him. He input the numbers and was rewarded with a familiar voice saying, “Hello.” A swell of relief buoyed him. But the sweetness succumbed to a deadly undertow as the remainder of Jenner’s recorded message broke over him. He replaced the receiver and breathed deeply of the life-giving smoke from his pipe. Exhaling, his finger involuntarily began tapping the numbers for her office at COPE. The probability of her being either at home or at work was near 100%, and Sherwood resigned himself to the meaning of another recording.