The Thought Cathedral

by Nathan Williams

  Once the applause died down again, Messner said, “This event was the brainchild of our founder and Chief Executive Officer, Charlie Monroe. As this is a celebratory event, your management has opted to keep the formalities to a minimum. However, Mr. Monroe wanted to say just a few words so, without further ado, please welcome Charlie to the stage.” The room erupted into applause as Monroe, dressed in a black tuxedo and with his top hat under his arm, rose from his seat at one of the tables near the stage.

  As Lee waited for Monroe, her attention was drawn back to Bose. Bose, who had as small an attention span as anyone she’d ever met, had already begun fidgeting with an ornament that had been affixed to the condiment holder. The ornament was a silhouette of a male and female in a dance pose. The male was dressed in a black tuxedo with an emerald-green cloth in the breast pocket, the female in an elegant white dress with a black beaded necklace. Bose was pointing to the male, mouthing the word “me,” then pointing to the female and mouthing the word, “you.”

  Lee laughed and silently said, “Maybe, later. If you’re lucky.”

  Bose frowned. Monroe had made it onto the stage. A series of flashes erupted from a handful of media members present along the perimeter of the room.

  “Thank you, Jim,” Monroe said as he removed his hat and held it in his right hand. “And thank you all for your presence here tonight. As Jim said, this is a celebratory event, however, it’s not without its purpose. Since its founding nearly forty-five years ago, Brooklyn Capital has developed an unmatched track record of ingenuity and innovation. It’s been a leader in the development of an almost unprecedented number of technologies—from enhancements to computer processors and missile technology, to materials technologies that have been used in costumes and facial alterations within the Central Intelligence Agency, improving armor used by soldiers in our army and marine corps, development of weapons that are more accurate and reliable, and a host of other applications. Ingenuity is a quality that is at the core of who we are. It’s in our DNA. This event gives us the opportunity to reinforce the importance of ingenuity, and to celebrate it.

  “So, with this brief thought in mind, I’d like to also welcome you to the Ingenuity Ball. Take your time, if you wish, finishing dinner. The band is ready to go downstairs, and don’t forget to visit the exhibits on the third floor. There’s some fascinating stuff up there. Thank you.”

  Lee studied Monroe as he stepped off the stage where he was immediately mobbed by a small cluster of reporters. Monroe seemed as confident and comfortable in his own skin as anybody she’d ever known.

  “Raj and I are going up to the third floor for a while,” Dvorak said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Raj said, “We’ll see you down on the dance floor.” He winked at her.

  Lee laughed. “See you later.”

  Lee glanced at Xiang, who had a content look on his face.

  “How was your food?” Lee asked.

  “Excellent.” Xiang said, “That Bose is a funny little guy. Is he always this flirty?”

  Lee laughed again. “He’s just a good friend, Xiang. It’s just Raj being Raj.” Xiang didn’t reply, so she said, “Would you like to go down to the dance floor?”

  “Sure.”

  She invited Maliq Okoye down with them as well. Lee led Xiang and Okoye across the room and back down the spiral staircase. Ornamental black and bluish-green ribbon had been wrapped around the black iron railing.

  At the bottom of the stairs, they entered into the ballroom behind another small group of attendees. The room was bathed in dim light from the chandeliers. The band was on a stage situated on the opposite end of the ballroom. Circular tables had been arranged around the perimeter of the dance floor.

  Lee led Xiang and Okoye to a smaller table that was still empty, except for a middle-aged couple. Lee introduced the three of them to the couple and attempted to initiate a conversation. However, their voices were drowned out by the band, which had begun playing a jazz piece. It was difficult to speak among themselves, so they sat in silence as the band played. After a while, the lead vocalist announced the immediate playlist: a series of popular American musical selections from the early twentieth century. As the night wore on, they’d work their way through each successive decade, beginning with the year 1900.

  The crowd around the dance floor continued to fill in as the band made its way through the first decade of the 1900s. A half hour later, the lead vocalist had just announced another jazz piece, the first from the 1920s, when a few of the attendees finally decided to venture out onto the dance floor. Lee turned to Xiang and said, “What do you think, Xiang, are you ready to dance?”

  Xiang seemed reticent. “You better dance with her,” Okoye said, a broad smile spreading across his face, “or I’ll steal your place.”

  “Maybe for just a song or two,” Xiang said. Xiang slipped out of his chair and held his hand out for Lee as she followed. Xiang led her between and around a few other couples, before settling into a space near the middle of the throng.

  As they danced, Lee searched for anyone else she knew. She spotted a handful of acquaintances around the room, mostly people she’d worked with on Project Magus. She noticed the design of the decorations in the room, which blended a historical emphasis of music with the technological advancement of radio. The theme seemed to be ordered chronologically, beginning with Marconi’s commercialization of radio at the tail end of the 1800s. There was a photo of some men in Marconi’s factory in England hovering around a newly built radio. She knew this only from some of the things Bose had told her. There was another photo of a man in a suit speaking into a microphone with a sign that said 8MK behind him. Bose had also told her that 8MK was the first news station to broadcast a radio show. There was another black-and-white photo of a young woman sitting in a living room, listening to a bulky-looking radio during the 1930s.

  After their third song, they decided to go back to the table. As they danced, Lee noticed Bose had arrived at their table. As she slid into her chair, Lee said, “Where’s Luke?”

  “He’s still upstairs. Ran into an acquaintance from work.”

  “Raj, what did you mean earlier when you asked Luke if he wanted a Kaminsky bar?”

  “You won’t give up, will you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, this may surprise you, but many years ago Luke and I used to be petty thieves.”

  Lee shook her head. “No, that doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

  Bose frowned. “Anyway, one time we stole a couple of candy bars from a chocolatier in Manhattan. We ended up being chased by a cop into this amazing old theater, the Gambino Theater. And it led to this epic chase all throughout the theater. I mean, Luke was clear up in the fly gallery. It was insane!”

  “Did you end up getting away with it?”

  “Of course.”

  Lee rolled her eyes. “I’ve yet to hear a story about you two where—”

  Raj held up his index finger. “Hold on, Lyn. Somebody’s calling me.”

  Lee frowned as Raj pulled his smart phone out of his coat pocket and brought it to his ear. Bose turned to Lee. “It’s Luke.” He checked his phone again, then turned back to Lee. “Luke sent me a text. He says he needs to talk to you.” Bose was having to shout over the music. “He wants you to meet him up on the third floor.”

  “He needs to talk to me?” Lee asked.

  “Yes. Now! He’s says it’s urgent!”

  Lee apologized to Xiang and excused herself from the table. To get away from the crowd, she walked quickly into the corridor separated from the ballroom by the row of columns. She walked quickly back to the spiral stairs, pondering why Luke would want to talk to her. As her mind raced, she floated easily up the iron steps to the third floor. When she reached the landing, she turned right and walked quickly down the hallway along the perimeter of the floor. A few paces in, Dvorak materialized out of a recess in the wall.

  “Hello, Lyn.”

  “Hey, Luke. What�
�s going on?”

  He was holding a manila folder in his hands. “I was on my way down to you guys when this Chinese guy caught up to me. He told me you’re being set up. Then he gave me this.”

  Dvorak held the folder out to her.

  “Set up? What do you mean?” Lee took the folder from Dvorak.

  Dvorak said, “Do you remember when we met in the portal?”

  Lee was opening the folder. “Yes. That was you using the Einstein avatar, right?”

  He nodded. “I know a little about what you’re up to with the FBI. Not much, but a little.”

  Lee had the folder opened. She tipped the folder and out slid some papers and photographs. “Luke, what is this?”

  Dvorak said nothing. Lee examined the contents of the folder. The first item was a photograph of an Asian woman with a Chinese man. They appeared to be in a bank, speaking with a man dressed in a business suit. The second was another photo of the same man and woman. It appeared to be another photo from the same occasion. They were dressed in the same clothes, except they were standing in a line. Lee examined the photo more closely. She could see the woman’s face much more clearly in the second photo. She looked very much like herself in appearance. So much so that she did a double-take. Lee had no idea who the man was. She’d never seen him before.

  Lee thumbed through several more photos. There were more photos of the woman, but with other Chinese men. Lee didn’t recognize any of the men.

  “Luke, I’ve never seen any of these men in my life.” Dvorak remained silent. Finished with the photos, she turned her attention to a series of papers. The papers appeared to be financial statements of some sort from Brooklyn Cooperative Federal Credit Union. She recognized the bank because she owned checking and savings accounts there. The first of the papers were deposit slips for a bank account. She did not recognize the account number, however it was in the name of Lynette Josephine Lee, her legal name. The amount for the deposit was for $7,000.00 and it was dated two weeks prior. All told, there were twenty-four deposits into the account in amounts varying from $5,000 to $10,000, extending as far back as six weeks.

  “Where are these deposits coming from?” Lee asked, as much to herself as to Dvorak. She’d been so busy with everything that she hadn’t reviewed her accounts for a few weeks. A few seconds later, she found a monthly statement with transaction detail. The payments had been coming from two banks—the Bank of China and another institution called DBS, which appeared to be out of Hong Kong.

  Dvorak said, “Bank of China is based in Beijing. It’s a state-owned bank.” Lee looked questioningly at Dvorak. “I did a little research with my phone before you got up here.”

  “So, I’m being set up by the Chinese government?”

  “It appears so. I’d assume that’s correct.”

  Lee took a deep breath and exhaled. She began pacing. “I’m in a lot of trouble here, aren’t I, Luke?”

  Dvorak said, “Don’t know for sure.”

  “Who gave you this folder?”

  “I don’t know who it was. A Chinese man—middle-aged, dressed in a business suit. He was just a guy. Nothing about him that stood out.”

  “You think the FBI has been sent these documents?”

  “Lyn, I honestly have no idea. You know exactly what I know.”

  “Is this man still here?”

  Dvorak shook his head. “No. He bolted as I was looking through the documents. I looked up, and he was gone.”

  Lee reached into purse, pulling out her smart phone. “Was it any of these people?”

  Dvorak flipped through the photos. “This is him.”

  Lee took the phone back and examined the photo indicated by Dvorak. It was Phua Youhong.

  “What did he say, exactly?”

  “I was just walking down this same hallway here and he just appeared, just as I did with you a few minutes ago.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “He asked me if I was Lukas Dvorak—if I was your friend. I said that I was. He said that you’re being set up and gave me the folder. I started to look through the contents and, when I looked up, he’d vanished.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Wonder why he did this? Why he wanted to tip me off.”

  Dvorak shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Lee paced some more, wired with adrenaline. “Luke, what do I do now? I don’t know what to do? I mean, I think if I just go to Agent Frank, she’ll understand. We have a good—”

  “I wouldn’t necessary say that’s what’ll happen. If they have evidence that you accepted money from the Chinese government, it looks like you’ve been paid to work as an agent for them against the U.S. government. You could be considered a flight risk. They may decide to place you under arrest.”

  Lee took another deep breath and exhaled. “What do you think I should do, Luke?”

  “Let me help you. We need to get you a lawyer. I’ll help with that if you want me to.”

  “You think I shouldn’t turn myself in?”

  Dvorak grinned. “C’mon, Lyn. After what happened to me two years ago? Do you really think I’d recommend that you turn yourself in?”

  “No.”

  “What I’d recommend is to find someplace to stay for the time being. Lay low for a while. Don’t call Agent Frank or anyone else associated with the authorities. Let me get a lawyer lined up. I’ll try to speak with Charlie Monroe. You never know. Maybe he’ll be willing to help. You have friends, Lyn. I’ll talk to Raj and Maliq. Let us help you.”

  Lee took another deep breath. “Okay. Sounds like a plan. For now, at least.”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess I probably shouldn’t go back to the dance.”

  Dvorak smiled. “No, probably not. Do you have someplace you can stay tonight and the next few days? Someplace where nobody would find you?”

  Lee thought for a few moments. “I have some friends of mine from school.”

  “You might want to think about whether or not you want to get your friends and family involved. It could come back on them pretty harshly.”

  “I guess you’re right, Luke. I don’t know.”

  “Well, let’s get you out of here. I’ve already called you a cab. He should be waiting for you at the back of the building. You can take the rear stairwell. I’m going to go back down and talk to Raj and Maliq. I’ll give you a call a little later, after we figure out what to do.”

  “Okay. Ummm, make sure Xiang doesn’t know about any of this, if he doesn’t already.”

  “Of course.”

  They stood facing each other in silence for a few moments. Dvorak said, “Do you want me to visit your parents? Talk to them?”

  Lee sighed heavily. “Ugh! What will my parents say?” Lee thought for a moment. “No. Not yet.”

  “Okay.”

  Lee stepped toward Dvorak. “Thanks for helping me like this.” She hugged him.

  “Don’t mention it. Hey, I know what this feels like, remember?”

  Lee smiled. “Yeah. I know.” She watched Dvorak as he hustled down the stairs. She started, on rubber legs, to the rear of the building. As she walked, she felt a sense of being outside of herself—as though she were a participant in some sort of colossal accident, but an observer at the same time. She was, she felt, in a state of mild shock. Her mind began flooding with questions. Who was Phua Youhong? How might the men she’d met through Xiang be involved? What would Frank and Reardon think if and when the FBI received the receipts and photos? Have they already received them? Who was Xiang, really?

  Then she stepped off the stairs onto the ground level and burst through the rear door of the building. The cold air hit her face and her bare arms and shoulders, and knocked the shock out of her. She found that the shock was temporarily replaced by reality—a colder, crueler reality. Then she thought about Luke, Raj, and Maliq. Maybe I’ll get through this okay, she thought. Maybe.

  Chapter 28

  New York City<
br />
  Saturday, February 21, 9:16 p.m. EST

  Rose had just finished reviewing the last of a series of reports from subordinate agents when he took a deep breath and slid it into a file in a drawer within his desk in the FBI New York headquarters building. He slid the drawer in and locked it, rose from his chair, and briefly raised his arms above his head while clenching his fists. He sighed heavily as he stretched his arms, wringing the fatigue out of his body. It had been a long day after a long week, and it was finally time to make the trip back to his home in Secaucus. He retrieved his dress coat from a rack in a corner of his office, and was about to leave when he noticed another email arrive in his in-box.

  He walked back to his desk, sat down again in his chair, and clicked on the email. It was from Terry Zeilinky, one of the Evidence Response Team leads.

  John,

  Still working on the computers found at the Pell and Grant location. Lot of fingerprints and such to sort through. Haven’t found much thus far. The hard drives were all removed and taken with them, except one. Haven’t had any success with the cache or RAM. Attached are the documents found within that one hard drive. I took the liberty of placing a few of the more interesting photos first. Let me know if you have any questions about anything. Terry.

  Rose was tempted to shut his computer down and leave for the day, but he decided to take five more minutes to open the first few attachments. He clicked on the first one and waited a few moments while his computer brought it up. It was a photo of a young woman—a woman of Chinese descent—at a bank with a Chinese man. They were seated at a desk and appeared to be speaking with a banker. There was a date stamp at the bottom right of the photo. February 2. It wasn’t until he pulled up the second photo that he became concerned. It was another photo of the couple, except this one allowed a full view of the woman’s face. Is that Lyn Lee? He unlocked his drawer again and pulled another file out. Inside was a photo of the woman named Lee that had been pulled from her employment records at Brooklyn Capital. He compared the two photos. It was the same woman. Or, at least, it looked to be the same woman.