While Justice Sleeps

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While Justice Sleeps Page 19

by Stacey Abrams


  “Good. Good.” Rita released an anxious breath. Her desire for a drink faded for one of the rare instants, and she turned her hand over to grip the Chief’s. “Avery has worked hard all her life. I don’t know what I’d do if she lost everything because of a lie.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” Chief Roseborough assured Rita, whose eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and contrition. “Avery, do you understand?”

  “Yes—yes, ma’am.” Sitting in the rear of the taxi, she felt gratitude lodge in her chest like a boulder.

  “Rita—” Her throat tightened with words she’d forgotten how to say to this almost forgotten version of her mother. “Thank you.” The hot whisper seared her throat. “Momma.”

  “It’s okay, baby.”

  Watching the woman in her office cling futilely to control, the Chief lifted the receiver. “Was there something you needed, Avery?”

  Avery forced herself to focus on the reason for her call. “Umm, when you’ve finished your meeting with my mother, I’d like to talk with you about my position at the Court.”

  “Your leave is not negotiable.” The Chief examined the woman squirming in her seat, and her voice softened. “I appreciate how difficult and complicated this has made your life, but my hands are tied.”

  “Chief, I didn’t accept a bribe, and I didn’t shoot Mrs. Lewis.”

  “I believe you. So, perhaps, does Agent Lee.”

  “But Major Vance doesn’t.”

  “No, he doesn’t believe you, but until he has more evidence, I’ll hold them off.” She hesitated. “Watch your step, Avery. They are.”

  “Yes, Chief. And, Chief—”

  “Yes?”

  “I didn’t ask her to come. I swear.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.” She thought of the slender young woman asked to bear such heavy burdens. Then she recalled Avery’s confrontation with powerful men bent on destroying her reputation. Perhaps Howard understood more than she realized. Still, she had the Court to consider. With regret, she told Avery, “I’ll be in touch. It’s probably best if I contact you from now on.”

  Avery heard the reproach and remorse, her fingers twisting at the hem of her skirt. “I understand.” She was on her own.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  In an empty office on the twenty-third floor of the Lowry Kihneman building, Avery stared at a computer screen. On her way to the offices she had first stopped at the hospital to check in on Justice Wynn. Like before, he lay silently in his room, connected to a battery of monitors, IVs, and machines. Avery expected him to sit up and angrily demand his release from the infernal bed, but the silence endured. She sat at his bedside for half an hour, alternately listening to the rhythmic noises of machinery and asking him questions, to which she received no replies. Then, after returning home to retrieve the pages she’d printed from Justice Wynn’s computer, she’d headed to the offices of Lowry Kihneman.

  For the last several hours, Avery’s time had been spent plugging in multiple permutations of key words, to no avail. Paper was piled up along the credenza, each stack correlated to a company listed in his binder—her attempt to re-create the files from his safe. Justice Wynn hadn’t chosen those companies at random. She’d already skimmed them for references to rivers and squares and the word Ani.

  Look to the East. Look to the river. In between. She leaned forward, rubbing at her forehead, muttering. She’d already eliminated the East River in New York, although several of the companies had bases in Manhattan. “Ani. An Indian name. A company? The East? India? China?” Then she recalled the email addresses and nearly cursed. “Damn it. It’s in the email.” Turning, she grabbed sheets she’d printed from his computer. On top of the pile was the email exchange with TigrisLost. How could she have missed something so obvious? “He meant the Tigris River. The Middle East.”

  She pulled the stacks that corresponded to the companies. “Okay, Justice Wynn. I’m looking at the Tigris River and the companies. Genei Bioservices is based in Beijing. Remar Pharmaceuticals and Hygeia are Indian. Remar is in Hyderabad, and Hygeia is in Mumbai. Advar, based in Bangalore. Nothing from the Middle East.”

  She paused. Advar. Having pored over dozens of briefs on the company that would merge with GenWorks, Avery could recite the entire corporate bio by heart. Justice Wynn would have known that. She shifted some of the files to one side. For now, she’d focus on the new guys.

  Genei Bioservices had a thin résumé, but an interesting corporate management team. At least two of their members had testified on GenWorks’ behalf during the lower court proceedings. One was a Nobel laureate and the other a MacArthur genius. Both, she recalled, had argued that GenWorks sat on the cusp of revolutionizing treatment of genetic diseases like Huntington’s and Parkinson’s. Stopping the merger, they’d asserted, would be akin to killing off Jonas Salk.

  A quick scan of Remar Pharmaceuticals, an India-based company, revealed that its lead funder was none other than Nigel Cooper of GenWorks. Remar dealt in the dicey research domain of stem cells and cloning. As an American company, GenWorks faced prohibitions on the use of stem cell lines. “Mr. Cooper sends his money overseas and does his biotech research offshore,” Avery murmured. “He doesn’t even try to hide it,” she realized. “No wonder President Stokes hates him.”

  The Chinese firms—Qian Ku and Shen Fu—benefited from copious state funding and tight controls on information. The slimness of Justice Wynn’s files matched her own research. Putting the scarce pages aside, she turned to the next company on the list.

  “What have you got for me, Hygeia?” Downloaded pages recited dry details of founding and acquisition for this short-lived venture into high-end research. The lab geniuses at Hygeia had specialized in a specific chromosomal objective: chromosome consortium. For the first time, Avery regretted not having added biology to her list of temporary majors.

  “Maybe Ling can explain what this means.” She tabbed the page and continued reading. For a few years, Hygeia produced lauded research, its innovations drawing international attention to Mumbai’s latest gem. Venture funding poured in from around the world, and the founder scored invitations to Davos and the Clinton Global Initiative.

  Then, abruptly, Hygeia folded. News clippings from the Indian press reported a fire sale of Hygeia’s assets to Advar Biogenetics, Ltd. Avery thumbed through the articles. Every one told the same story: rising star company crashes to earth. Everything came back to the GenWorks/Advar merger.

  “Avery?”

  She looked up to find Jared standing in the doorway. Glancing at the computer clock, she realized how late it had gotten. “Jared…hi. Lost track of time.”

  “No worries. I talked to Noah, and he told me you were holed up in here reading. Any luck?”

  “Not that I can tell.” Avery massaged the juncture at her neck and shoulder where a knot had begun to form. “What about you?”

  “I think VGC is in Georgia.” Jared explained, “I went through all my mother’s boxes and found a photo album—lots of old pictures from when my mother and father and I were actually a family.” He sounded tired, looked emotionally drained as he leaned against the frame. His low voice continued: “Once a year, before she died, my parents would take a fishing trip together. After I came along, they kept up the tradition. We drove down to Black Rock Lake in the North Georgia mountains. The annual family road trip. Mom used to call the cabin her hiding place.”

  Avery’s eyes lit up. “Your mother’s name was Vivian. Vivian’s Georgia Cabin.” Jared nodded and confirmed her guess.

  “Your father liked games,” she said. “Everything is a chess match—move, countermove. To him, we’re just pieces trying to get across the board.”

  “You want to quit playing?”

  She gave a short, rueful laugh. “No—he knew I liked games too. I need to know what all this means.”

  “I see why he pick
ed you.” Jared stepped into the office. “Also, I pulled your phone records, like you asked. Tried to trace the unknown number.”

  “And?”

  “Whoever called you bounced the number off several satellites. The trail was convoluted but not impossible to unravel. According to what I found, the call terminated in Raleigh, North Carolina.”

  “Raleigh? Are you sure?”

  “That’s where it landed. I had a friend in intelligence double-check my work. Someone from there went to a great deal of trouble to hide, only to leave a marker in the data trail.” Jared hesitated. “But no one who could ping satellites like that would be so sloppy at the end. There’s a backdoor that I’m trying to pick the lock on. Should give me an identity soon.”

  “That’s what you do for a living? Pick electronic locks and chase satellites?”

  “I have a number of special talents courtesy of Uncle Sam, and they are still willing to work with me, even though I can no longer serve.”

  Noah appeared behind Jared. “What’s going on?”

  “Jared discovered what VGC means. Vivian’s Georgia Cabin.” Standing, she stretched muscles that were cramped from hours of sitting. “You two up for a road trip?”

  “How can you be sure that’s what he meant?” Noah asked. “Georgia is a long way to go for a scavenger hunt.”

  “It has to be.”

  Jared stared at her. “Why?”

  “Because otherwise, I’m stuck.” She closed her eyes in exhaustion. “Justice Wynn said to look in between. I don’t have anywhere else to start.”

  “What?” Both men asked the question in unison.

  Jared added, “What are you talking about, Avery?”

  In for a penny, she thought resignedly. “I got a message from his nurse on my machine at work yesterday.” She quickly explained what she’d learned.

  “Did you call Mrs. Lewis?” Noah asked. “He was paranoid about her eavesdropping on him. Perhaps he was right to be suspicious. She might be able to unravel his clues.”

  Avery repressed a shudder. “No, she won’t. Yesterday afternoon, I went to see her at her apartment. I found her body. She’d been shot in the head.”

  “Christ,” muttered Jared. “Do the police have any leads?”

  “I don’t know. Other than trying to arrest me this morning, neither the FBI nor Homeland Security is being very forthcoming. But if her death is linked to Justice Wynn, the reason why may be what was on my answering machine.”

  “Did my father leave any other clues? Other than VGC and the binder?”

  “I found files on his computer that included several SMS text messages to India. He referenced the game Chessdynamo.com. There were two messages. Ani Is in the River. Find Ani. Another code: WHTW5730. On several of the messages, the subject was ‘In the square.’ ”

  “WHTW5730?” Jared gave a short chuckle in recognition. “When I was a kid, Dad liked to compare himself to William Howard Taft. If I were to guess, I’d assume the code uses his name and tenure. William Howard Taft Wynn, and the numbers are Taft’s dates of birth and death: 1857 to 1930.” He moved to Avery’s desk to grab a pen. “I don’t recognize the phrases about Ani, but WHTW5730 looks like a gamer’s handle.”

  “Chessdynamo.com. In the square.” Avery rushed around the desk to take her seat. Quickly, she found the online game. A three-dimensional pawn floated in midair, and a box requested the user’s name. “It couldn’t be this easy.”

  Jared and Noah circled around to watch as she typed WHTW5730 into the username box. When asked for the password, she tried Jared and his birthdate again. The screen refused her entry. She refreshed the screen, staring as though the computer would reveal its secrets. Or Wynn’s. He wanted her to find something, so he wouldn’t make the clues impossible. She chewed on her lip and sifted through what he’d already revealed. Mentally crossing her fingers, she typed, AniIsintheRiver.

  The log-in pane disappeared, offering her admittance.

  “You’re in!” announced Noah. “But what are you looking for?”

  “He once mentioned this game to me for a reason. Perhaps if I look at the matches they played, it will tell me something. Makes as much sense as anything else he’s done.” An avatar asked if she wanted to return to a game already in progress. Unsure of her next move, she selected yes. A game screen opened, offering her a seat at a table.

  “Play,” Jared urged quietly.

  “Okay.” A countdown clock showed that the game had been stalled for several weeks, awaiting the next move. “I don’t think his opponent is coming back.”

  Jared leaned closer, studying the screen. “I never cared much for the game, even though the judge tried to teach me. Can you tell which position he was playing?”

  She tried to move a black pawn, but nothing happened. “He’s White. His move.” She moved a white pawn, and the screen darkened. INVALID MOVE. Avery frowned at the screen. “That move was legal.” With the mouse, she tried to advance the pawn a second time, and again the screen denied her. “I don’t understand. I’m trying to move my pawn to f4, but it won’t allow it.”

  Noah asked, “F4?”

  “The position on the board. Chess players keep track of moves that way. Algebraic notation—denotes the row and the space.”

  “Never realized chess players were so anal.”

  “Anal, but slow. Two days, and I’m no closer to knowing what he wanted and how I’m supposed to find it.” She shut her eyes and sighed. “Justice Wynn leads me to a chess game that I can’t play with clues that mean nothing. But he remembered that I liked chemistry and have an eidetic memory.”

  “You’re getting punch-drunk, Avery,” Jared warned. “Why don’t we call it a night? Come at this again in the morning. We can talk about chemistry and your memory then.”

  A thought teased at her. She turned her chair back toward the screen, musing aloud. “He remembered that I studied chemistry. That’s why I knew how to burn the flash paper.”

  Jared frowned. “Flash paper? What are you talking about?”

  “Earlier today, before the thieves clocked me. He’d put a sheet of flammable paper in his safe and a lighter. The paper had a series of numbers and letters and punctuation, but it made no sense. It looked familiar, but not quite.”

  “Do you remember it?” Jared asked.

  “Sure.” She turned back to the computer and opened a word processing program. Typing quickly, she’d soon re-created the entire sequence:

  e4c5Gf3d6Ob5+Od7Oxd7+Vxd7c4Gc6Gc3Gf600g6d4cxd4Gxd4Og7Gde2Ve6!?Gd5Vxe4Gc7+Rd7Gxa8Vxc4Gb6+axb6Gc3Ha8a4Ge4Gxe4Vxe4Vb3f5Og5Vb4Vf7Oe5h3Hxa4Hxa4Vxa4Vxh7Oxb2Vxg6Ve4Vf7Od4Vb3f4Vf7Oe5h4b5h5Vc4Vf5+Ve6Vxe6+Rxe6g3fxg3fxg3b4Of4Od4+Rh1!b3g4Rd5g5e6h6Ge7Hd1e5Oe3Rc4Oxd4exd4Rg2b2Rf3Rc3h7Gg6Re4Rc2Hh1Rf5b1=VHxb1Rxb1Rxg6d2h8=Vd1=VVh7b5?!Rf6+Rb2Vh2+Ra1Vf4b4?Vxb4Vf3+Rg7d5Vd4+Rb1g6Ve4Vg1+Rb2Vf2+Rc1Rf6d4g71–0

  Spinning back around, she pointed to the screen. “This is what was on the paper.”

  “You remembered all this? Never mind.” Jared leaned in close and read the information. “This looks like it could be computer code, but not in any language I know.”

  Looking at it again, Avery rubbed at her forehead. “I know what you mean. When I first saw it, I thought it reminded me of chess notations, but some of the letters are wrong.”

  Noah laughed. “That’s chess?”

  “Almost.” Avery smiled. “If it were really algebraic notations, this sequence records a whole game.” She pointed to the first part of the message. “See, here? E4c5? It’s an opening chess move, where the pawns from either side advance two squares forward. But players don’t use a P for pawn, and the two moves would be separated by a space.” Demonstrating, she inserted the space and then hit enter after the c5. “Each pair of moves would be numbered. This is the opening sequence.”

  He pointed to the second line. “Then what’s the G?”


  Avery shook her head. “I don’t know. There is no G in chess notations. The pieces are K, Q, R, B, and N. King, queen, rook, bishop, and knight. The pawns don’t get letters.”

  “Why is the knight an N?”

  “Because the king is most important, and he gets the K. Some players use Kt for knight, but that’s uncommon.”

  “Let me check something,” Jared said, reaching around Avery for the keyboard. She slid her chair sideways, but he was already busy typing. He opened a page and scrolled down. “Avery, what do you think?”

  On the screen, a chart showed the various languages and their notations for the chess pieces. Jared’s finger tapped the screen beside the Hindi language. “R, V, H, O, G, P. Does that work?”

  Avery flipped the screen back to her notes and began to search and replace. In silence, she added spaces and numbers, creating row upon row of moves. Sixty-two in all. “You’re brilliant.”

  “Thanks,” Jared said.

  Blinking, she looked up at him. “Oh, you too, but I meant your father and his opponent. I think the other person playing was Ani.”

  “The one who’s in the river?” asked Noah.

  “And he may be my mystery caller of the five hundred thousand dollars.” She tapped the lines of game notation. “This game sequence is a model game that pits Gary Kasparov against the rest of the world. They converted the pieces and the coding, but the game sequence is the highest level.”

  Noah hopped off the credenza and came to stand on the other side of the computer. “So what do you do with it? The suspense is killing me.”

  “The only thing to do is play.” Avery returned to the Chessdynamo site and the game in progress. She studied the board with fresh eyes. “Let’s see if this works. They’re already in the game. Here. I was playing as myself. Let’s follow their gameplay.” Following the sequence she’d translated, Avery tried to advance a pawn. Rather than the buzz forbidding her action, the computer accepted the move and allowed the piece to be captured.

 

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