Double Deceit

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Double Deceit Page 30

by Julienne Brouwers


  “Sure. Anything’s possible,” Joe replied with a hint of irritation in his voice. “Like I just said, it’s rare. And if it does happen, we’ll repeat the analysis even before releasing the results. So seems to me, it’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

  I nodded fiercely. “Sure, sure. I understand,” I soothed, feeling sweat dripping down my back.

  I was racking my brain trying to figure out what I could say to get Joe to open up. That man had to be in the know, he just had to.

  I suddenly had an idea. “By the way, before it slips my mind, how will I be able to leave the car park on my way out? The barriers were raised when I arrived – I’d like to avoid getting stuck here with my old banger,” I said, laughing and waving my hand airily. “A 2004 Fiat Panda,” I lied. “Still drives like nothing else though. Do you have a car of age as well, or do you prefer the kind of nought-to-hundred-in-five-seconds type of machine?” I queried.

  He coughed, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “I drive a Tesla model Y. And I can arrange an exit ticket for you later,” he added promptly.

  I had to suppress the urge to gloat. An old friend from college was a scientist at a pharmaceutical company – she always complained about the low wages she made. There was no way on earth a man in his position could afford an extravagant car like that without receiving the odd backhander.

  “Right, a Tesla. Not bad,” I said casually before taking a mouthful of water. “Like I said, our firm entertains a warm relationship with this particular client. He claims to be innocent of the charge and we have every reason to presume this to be true. We’re doing everything in our power – and I mean pulling out all the stops …” I said, taking a pause for the message to sink in, “… to defend him. We obviously wouldn’t ever want for an innocent man to disappear behind bars,” I said in my most syrupy tones.

  There was a change in expression on Joe’s face, albeit barely visible, but I knew I was on the right track.

  I took a chance. “One of my partners at Mason & McGant advised me that it’s within the realm of possibility to request a re-analysis of a DNA sample. He assured me that you are the very best in your profession and are always willing to lend a helping hand.”

  Joe visibly stiffened on the other end of the table, a scrutinising look in his eyes. There was no doubt I had his full attention now. “I do my best to be of service,” he responded tentatively, as he bit the inside of his cheek.

  I nodded bashfully, but inside my heart was singing – I got a bite.

  Dan and I suspected there was a close liaison between Joe and the firm but the exact shape or form of this was still to be discovered, so I silently looked across at him, hoping it would encourage him to continue speaking now that it had become self-evident what the purpose of my visit was.

  The scientist leaped up from his chair, advanced a few steps to the internal windows, which offered a view of the corridor and cast a furtive glance to, I presumed, rule out potential eavesdroppers.

  He turned around and leaned back against the door. “There are colleagues who sometimes cut corners while performing their work, and anchoring errors will ensue. If this is the case I’m willing to offer my full cooperation to have the DNA sample re-analysed in my lab, if the party in question would so desire.”

  I gritted my teeth – Joe had moved too far away from my phone. If the most crucial information wasn’t audible on the tape, this whole plan would go up in smoke. I slowly and as unobtrusively as possible slid the stack of papers in his direction while I kept talking with a smile glued to my face. “We would naturally be very grateful.”

  “How grateful exactly?” Joe asked circuitously.

  I narrowed my eyes a bit. “I’d like to show our appreciation in the usual way,” and hoped wholeheartedly this wouldn’t put any strange ideas in his head.

  Joe stared into the distance, tapping his fingers on his lips, before speaking again. “Did I mention my wife recently had an accident on the A13? Her treasured set of wheels was wrecked,” he said and turned his face. “She was lucky to make it out alive.”

  “Oh dear. What a shame,” I responded to his suggestion. “We’ll take care of that. I’ll personally make sure that your wife receives a car that matches yours,” I said with satisfaction.

  He cracked a smile, popped back into his chair and clicked down his ballpoint pen. “If you give me the file number, I’ll arrange for the re-analysis to be performed by one of my lab technicians before the end of the week.”

  I felt an eyelid twitch as I forced myself not to gasp for air. “I’m afraid I don’t have it with me. I’ll email it to you later.”

  He frowned and pursed his lips, fixing his eyes firmly on mine and for a moment I was afraid he was onto me. But then he spoke in a casual tone. “Sure.”

  I was gathering the pile of papers, slowly removing my phone from underneath when Joe got up from his chair, advanced a few steps towards me before towering over me. “Jennifer, do you have your card for me?”

  I bowed my head, hoping he wouldn’t notice the sudden redness on my cheeks and started rummaging excessively through my handbag. “Oh how silly of me. I left my cards at the office,” I uttered, trying to be the chaotic-yet-charming businesswoman, but I could hear my voice quivering.

  I looked up, offering my best smile as my heart was pounding in my chest, while Joe’s eyes scrutinised my face. I knew I’d taken a huge risk – it would take no effort for him at all to give Mason & McGant a call and check my name. I slid back my chair, increasing the distance between us and stood up. “Thank you very much for your time,” I said, taking control of the situation again. I held out my hand. “I’ll be in touch with that file number.”

  He dithered for the slightest moment before shaking my hand.

  “I’ll see myself out,” I managed to produce, before scuttling down the corridor towards the exit. I forced myself to give the receptionist a friendly nod and a thank you for handing me an exit pass before pushing through the revolving doors.

  Once outside, I came to a halt, breathed in the cool air and closed my eyes – an immense burden fell off my shoulders. I couldn’t believe what I’d just pulled off. A huge sense of euphoria surged through me and I had to restrain myself from shrieking.

  I strode forward and stepped into my car, leaned my head back against the support, thoughts whirling through my mind. The hypothesis that Dan and I had formulated appeared to be true – Mason & McGant had been systematically bribing this Joe guy in exchange for tampering evidence to their advantage.

  I took my phone from my handbag and listened to the final part of the sound recording, which I surmised to be pivotal. The voices sounded muffled, but the dialogue was clearly audible. No doubt, this would be sufficient for the police to reinstate the investigation.

  In my call history I searched for Dan’s number only to remember that he’d turned off his phone and planned to purchase a burner. There was nothing else to do but wait for him to call me. The ball was now in his court.

  34

  After my visit to the DFI, I had the rest of the afternoon to myself, but I was feeling on tenterhooks. Ever since I’d received the third threatening note, I was apprehensive at home and so I spent the rest of the day roaming around the city.

  Late in the evening I had little choice but to go home, but I still had not heard from Dan and was in an agitated state of suspense. Shouldn’t he have called by now? He’d told me he was going to dive into the nitty-gritty of the role played by the phone company that had appeared in the overview drafted by Oliver. I was getting increasingly worried that Dan’s snooping had been detected and he was starting to pose too great a risk to Mason & McGant. The thought that something could have happened to him was unbearable.

  I closed all the curtains in the house and grabbed the remote control to distract myself with some brainless TV programme. After just a few moments, I jumped up and went to the kitchen to get myself a glass of wine. I grabbed the half-full bottle of Merlot from
the counter, poured out the wine, the aroma wafting into my nostrils, momentarily pausing the anxious thoughts that had been consuming me. I’d rather have waited for more information on Dan’s end in order for us to come up with a convincing case, but perhaps it was wise not to dither any longer and to reach out to the police first thing in the morning, informing them of the recent developments at the DFI. Today’s voice recording would surely provide enough evidence to reopen the investigation?

  The sound of my phone startled me. I rushed back to the living room and looked at the display – it was an anonymous caller.

  “This is Jennifer Smits,” I said vigilantly.

  “Jennifer, it’s me. Dan.”

  My heart jumped. “Oh my god, I’m so relieved it’s you. I was starting to worry,” I said, which was an understatement. “Where are you?”

  “Perhaps best not to tell you.” He sounded nervous and for the first time I realised he might be just as distressed as I was. “But don’t worry. I’m in a safe place,” Dan declared with an air of abstruseness.

  “I have a lot to bring to the table,” he went on, sounding upbeat now. “I’m sure there’s material here that will take our case forward,” he said, giving me a wonderful feeling of hope.

  “I do too,” I said, eager to impart my findings from the DFI. “But you go first.” I sank down on the sofa, knocked back a mouthful of wine, and waited for him to provide a detailed account of how his investigation had progressed.

  “I found out what role the phone company TelExact plays in this setup, I’ll explain it in a bit. First I need to delineate how evidence in a court case is built up by a prosecutor,” Dan said.

  “Okay.”

  “For the prosecution to be able to prove in court that a suspect was present at the location at the time of the crime, phone records are often used. So far I’m telling you nothing new, I reckon,” Dan was rambling so quickly that the words practically blended together. “What you may not know is that it’s actually quite challenging to do this accurately. Showing that a person was in the vicinity of an area is a piece of cake, pinpointing the exact location is a whole different ball game.”

  I took another swig of wine and muttered something inaudible, dying to find out more.

  “This TelExact company is apparently specialised in this field. They use three information sources to determine someone’s whereabouts – the first is a Wi-Fi network to which a suspect might have been connected at the time. In addition, they use cell tower data from the general mobile phone network, albeit less accurate. Finally, they use GPS satellites as a radio navigation system. These three parameters combined will ultimately give you the location of the phone and therefore the suspect, up to a precision of several metres.”

  I finished my wine with a gulp and set the glass on the table, letting Dan’s disclosures sink in. “It’s quite a technical story, Dan. But I kind of get the picture.”

  “I know. It baffled me at first too, until I spoke to this guy at TelExact who really knows his stuff. He explained to me they use an in-house developed algorithm to combine the information from the three sources in order to arrive at an accurate fix of the suspect’s location.”

  “That’s all well and good,” I said, slightly deflated, “but there is nothing conspicuous about this, is there?”

  “Hold on, I’ll get to that,” Dan countered. “The four reports we found based on Oliver’s overview all showed that the prosecution had initially proven the suspect was at the scene of the crime at the right time. Mason & McGant subsequently rebutted the results and requested a second opinion with another company …”

  I leaped up from the sofa, interjecting. “TelExact,” I said, slowly grasping the concept.

  “Exactly. This TelExact company performed a second assessment of the accused’s location showing he was indeed in the area, but not exactly at the location of the crime.”

  I bit on my thumb, thinking about the implications. “So, this piece of important evidence on the exact whereabouts of the defendant was shattered by TelExact?”

  “Damn right it was. It made the case for the prosecution very weak. Add this to the DNA traces not being a conclusive match …”

  “And the accused gets acquitted.” I finished the sentence for Dan, fitting the pieces together. “Free like a bird. So how exactly does TelExact go about this?” I asked.

  “They’re purposely being vague about it, hiding behind an allegedly complicated piece of software licensed and developed over in the States.”

  I had my concerns. “Could it not all have been a coincidence, a bizarre twist of fate, if you will, that this took place for all four cases?”

  There was silence on the other end. “You’re right, we cannot rule out this option yet. To be fair, what we have in our hands is still rather flimsy. I need to compare the details of the cases one by one, but it would be very coincidental if the four prosecutors on the case made an error regarding the location of the suspect and at the same time, the DFI blundered analysing the DNA traces.”

  Dan was right. This was highly unlikely and virtually impossible.

  “I have my suspicions that there’s someone at TelExact who is paid for his or her services.”

  “Similar to the DFI?” I asked, thinking of the tête-à-tête with Joe I’d had earlier.

  “Yes, similar to the DFI, if we are able to get the evidence to prove that …”

  “Well, I think I can help with that,” I said, chuffed to bits. “I went there this morning.”

  “No way. Tell me.”

  I summarised how my visit to the DFI had been, while pacing up and down the room.

  “What a brilliant idea of yours to record your conversation with that guy,” Dan responded, sounding impressed.

  “Thanks. There’s still a level of ambiguity to it though – after all, he didn’t actually declare that Mason & McGant has paid him in the past, but I do think it should be enough for the police to review the case. In the end, bribery can only truly be demonstrated if suspicions of financial malpractice are confirmed in the form of transactions – and that’s well out of our league.” I plopped down on the sofa, my fingers mindlessly stroking the armrest. “What do you think if I ring Detective Armstrong tomorrow?”

  “Hmm,” Dan said. “I think it would be wise if I first finalise the allegations against TelExact. If we combine both our findings from the DFI and TelExact it would surely increase the chances of turning the criminal investigation department onto our side.”

  I felt caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, I wanted to be able to put an end to this ordeal as soon as possible – on the other hand, I understood Dan’s reasoning and had to grant him that. “I just want this chaos to finally be over,” I said, breaking down. “My life has been turned upside down – my girlfriends no longer want to see me and my colleagues think I’ve gone haywire. I feel unsafe in my own house, can barely get any sleep – I’m constantly on edge and anxious. I’m at the end of my tether,” I said, tears piercing my eyes.

  “I understand,” Dan said gently. “Why don’t you stay with your parents for a while?”

  “That thought did occur to me, but it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t want to drag them into this mess, and at the same time I’m reluctant to leave my house. I know it sounds strange, but it feels like I would be abandoning Oliver if I leave,” I said, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.

  “I see. Don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll probably just need one or two more days before we can hand things over to the police. We’ll be able to present them with concrete evidence of a legal violation, and then they can take over, using their expertise and manpower to nail Mason & McGant.” His voice suddenly changed and I pictured him showing that cheeky crooked smile of his. “After this is over, I’ll take you out to dinner at the finest restaurant in Amsterdam.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, the unsettled feeling giving way to a warm glow inside. “I’ll hold you to that.”

&nbs
p; “Listen,” said Dan, adopting a brisk, unwavering tone again. “I’m going to give you my temporary number. Please save this under a different name in your phone, okay?”

  I typed the digits and saved it under the name Mia, after my deceased grandmother.

  “I’ll be switching off this burner, but I will occasionally check it for any messages.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, “Be careful. Please promise me, Dan.”

  “I will,” he whispered. “Hang in there, this will soon all be over.”

  We disconnected and I gazed at the number he’d given, memorising it, just in case.

  I closed my eyes and summoned a deep breath, holding it in. I was getting increasingly anxious that this situation was about to blow up in my face.

  35

  It was half past ten when the last patient of the morning consultation left my room. I gave a big yawn – after talking to Dan on the phone last night, I’d had trouble falling asleep. I trudged out of my room towards Simone to inquire about the home visits planned for today. At that moment the front door of the practice swung open and two police officers stepped inside.

  “We are looking for Jennifer Smits,” the female with a short and rotund figure barked at me.

  I came to a halt and uttered, bewildered, “That’s me.”

  Yesterday, Dan had been very clear that he wished not to contact the police until his plan had come to fruition. Would he really have changed his mind so soon after our call?

  “We kindly request you to come with us to the station,” the other officer said, an unmistakeably grave expression on his face. “We have a warrant for your arrest. You are being detained on suspicion of involvement in the death of Sandra delaHaye.”

  Stumbling towards the wall for support, I felt the blood draining from my face and my legs buckling underneath me.

  From the corner of my eye I noticed Hans dash out of his consulting room, total shock etched in his eyes. He straightened his back and began speaking in a hostile voice, “Can someone tell me what on earth is going on here?”

 

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