With Pavel in custody in California, Rick flew out to interrogate him for more information on the Ukrainian money laundering operation. He stayed through the weekend. Mrs. Crowley took advantage of his visit and invited Rogue and I to have Sunday dinner with them at her place. I brought Max along too. He had been happy to see me when I came back, but I think he actually prefers Mrs. Crowley's now. At least she is home most of the day.

As we settled down to dinner, it was almost like being back in our Sunday evening routine. It felt good. This was the most relaxed I'd been since the last time I had dinner with Mrs. Crowley. That was almost two and a half months ago.

"I've really missed our weekly dinners," I said.

"Dear, just because Rogue is back at your place, doesn't mean we can't continue our Sunday evening dinners," Mrs. Crowley assured me.

"Actually, Janet, I'm just staying with Chuck until I find a place of my own," Rogue explained.

"I'm rather sorry to hear that dear. I enjoy having you close by. What sort of place are you looking for?"

"Apartments are so scarce around here, you can't be too choosey. I'll take anyplace that is available, not too expensive, and where I can have my own bedroom. Sara's place was great but it looks like Percy may be moving in with her when Amy leaves and I don't want to be a third wheel."

"You know, I wouldn't mind having a roommate. I have an extra bedroom. I don't know how you'd feel about sharing a place with an old woman. If you don't want to, I completely understand, but I'd love to have you."

"That sounds really great Janet. I could even still ride to work with Chuck. How soon could I move in?"

"Whenever you like dear."

I made a face realizing she would probably be moving right away. I was not too happy with Mrs. Crowley. First, she steals my dog's affection and now she was taking my girlfriend. I guess I should be thankful Rogue would still be this close rather than halfway across town. I was just hoping I might convince her to stay at my place. I decided to get the topic of conversation away from Rogue's moving out before she could answer Mrs. Crowley question.

"So Rick, have you been able to learn any more from Pavel?" I asked.

"He has pretty much confessed to everything, even the murders."

"How did you manage that?"

"We convinced him if he didn't tell us everything he would be prosecuted under federal jurisdiction for terrorism and espionage and that would result in the death penalty. Since he cooperated, he'll be prosecuted by the states and the death penalty is off the table."

"Did he admit to bugging Mystie's bedroom?"

"Yes he did. Funny thing though. When they removed the bug from her bedroom they actually found two. Pavel swears he only put in one of them. Where do you suppose the other bug came from?"

"We will probably never know."

"I certainly hope not. Bugging a private residence is a crime." We both smiled knowingly.

"I guess this wraps up my job at the NSA. Mrs. Crowley, we need to send them a final bill."

"Get me all your receipts," she reminded me.

"Rick, what will be done about the money laundering operation?"

"The State Department will be notifying our allies and others concerning the matter and The Justice Department will be bringing charges against any U.S. entities that were knowingly involved."

"Pixie is readying the final report on her project. What can I tell our client about all this?"

"You can give them a heads-up that indictments are on the way, and they should wash their hands of anything related to these transactions as quickly as possible."

"It's funny how everything tied in together and almost nothing was what it seemed at first."

"Things are never as simple as you think," Rogue added.

"Yeah, Mr. Occam would have never survived in my world," Rick hypothesized.

"Mr. Occam?" I asked.

"The philosopher responsible for Occam's razor. It maintains that the simplest explanation is the correct one. In my world, the simplest explanation is the one your adversaries have staged. The truth is always much more complicated," Rick explained.

"I had a wise professor who had his own version of that. He postulated there is a simple solution to every problem and it's usually wrong, but people will invariably choose the simple solution. I think he would maintain that Occam was a simpleton."

"Is this the same professor who was your mentor and who believed in prayer?" Rogue asked as if that challenged the credibility of his wisdom.

"There is nothing wrong with prayers dear," Mrs. Crowley chimed in.

"No, but this guy actually believed his prayer for a happier world resulted in everyone becoming fatter and dumber!"

"Sort of makes sense," Rick said pondering the idea.

"No, it doesn't!" Mrs. Crowley objected.

"Calm down, Aunt Janet. I just like the implied irony of the concept."

"Doctor Jack said a lot of ironic things that made sense though," I said.

"I know he thinks god is either an explanation or a consolation, all his prayers come true, and he believes in conservation of luck," Rogue enumerated all of Doctor Jack's ideas I had told her about. It surprised me.

"I'm impressed you came up with all those," I said.

"You are surprised I remembered?"

"I am surprised you were paying attention when I told you those things. I always assume you ignore my philosophizing."

"That is a safe bet," she agreed with a smile.

"Chuck, what is next on the agenda for your detective agency?"

"Pixie, Amy and I are flying back to New York to give a final briefing to our client back there. After the briefing, Amy will take the train down to see her mother. Rogue and Ripley are also flying out with us. None of us have been to New York before. It will be kind of a mini get-away for the four of us. I'm thinking, Ripley may take the opportunity to propose to Pixie."

"Wow! That is big news."

"Well, it is not news yet. I'm just guessing."

"What about future business?"

"Actually, I'm not really looking right now. This job has taken a toll on all of us and it has really emphasized how dangerous this line of work can be. I'm seriously considering returning to engineering."

The silence and stares told me this was more of a bombshell than I had intended.

"Chuck, you are not quitting because of what happened to me are you?" Rogue asked. She was clearly upset.

"Partly, and partly what happened to Sara on our first case. Not to mention, I've had a few close calls myself. Listen, I haven't decided anything definitely yet. I just want to finish this job and celebrate our success. Remember our motto, one day at a time."

#

We were all excited about the trip back east to brief our clients at First International. The flight from San Francisco to JFK went smoothly. We decided to take cabs or public transportation while we were in New York. None of us were interested in tackling the city's traffic.

We had booked three rooms at the Marriott Essex House on Central Park south. There were more affordable places closer to the financial district, but I was more interested in making this memorable for everyone than making it convenient to our meeting. Overlooking Central Park seem the way to go. There were even more expensive places on the park, but we would have to justify the expense to our customer; so, the Essex house was a nice compromise.

We checked in and settled in to our rooms. We had a nice dinner at the Southgate bar and restaurant and retired early since our presentation was for first thing in the morning.

The next morning, Amy, Pixie and I caught a cab to our meeting. We left Rogue and Ripley to explore New York and plan our evening activities for after the briefing.

First International is typical of large east coast institutions. They are all about image. I've noticed, that in other parts of the country, the buildings are designed with an emphasis on function. In New York, they are designed to make a statement. They are designed to say we are bigger and more affluent than everyone else, so naturally you can trust us with your money. The entryways are ridiculously huge and elaborately appointed, as was the conference room we were given to make our final presentation. It was obviously intended to be intimidating and although I consider myself to be too smart to be influenced by such buffoonery, it was having some effect.

The number of people they employ is equally ridiculous. I've been told that for every useful employee there are ten titled positions he reports to whose only functions are solely to deal with the politics of the massive bureaucracy that has overtaken control of the company. I think this may be an understatement. The conference room was filled with vice presidents, chief executives, and senior specialists of company divisions whose names sound grandiose, but tell you nothing about what they actually do.

Everyone was quick to introduce themselves with their cards and their titles. I've learned that is not how truly productive people behave. Truly useful people let their actions and the product of their labors introduce themselves. Business cards are only an afterthought, a convenient way to pass phone numbers. Nowadays, even that is done simply by tapping phones together. For many of the First International employees, their cards were all they seemed to have to offer.

Pixie and Amy began setting up for the presentation at one end of the long conference table in the center of the room. I chatted at the other end of the table, with the two representatives from corporate, Jerry Goldstein vice president of international operations and Fred Chase his number two.

There were coffee and pastries at a credenza along the wall. People would help themselves as they came in and mingle until Jerry called the meeting to order and everyone took a seat. Jerry and Fred sat at the head. Next to them were their general counsel, Jim Berg and Robert Gardner. Across from them sat two folks from the contracting office. Next down the table were two guys from trading operations, Mel Townsend and his assistant Ed Taylor. Across from them were the software engineers we had been working with, Greg Odem and Charlie Franklin. The last two chairs at the table were reserved for Pixie and myself. Amy took one of the chairs along the wall where numerous other first International Employees were sitting.

Jerry introduced everyone at the table and then turned it over to me. I gave a brief explanation of who we were and then turned it over to Pixie.

Pixie immediately dove into the details of every aspect of the code she had analyzed. She would no sooner put up a slide and Greg Odem their chief of software development and I. T. services would interrupt her commenting that they had already checked that aspect in house. Pixie would then very coolly ask Greg if he had considered this or that small detail as a potential vulnerability and he would sheepishly admit they had not.

After Pixie had gone over what seemed like every line of code and every aspect of their FPGA firmware, she concluded that we were unable to find any flaws in their system.

"So, this entire effort was a waste of time?" Greg complained. "And we still can't explain how the front running is occurring!"

"Actually, we can," I said as I stood up and took over from Pixie. I had the attention of everyone, even those along the wall who had lost interest in Pixie's details.

"It turns out, the apparent front running is just a scam to cover the surreptitious transfer of funds from your clients who are purchasing the stocks to terrorist organizations that appear to be the front runners who are selling the stocks. The scam was devised and is being run by a Ukrainian gang operating under the cover of a legitimate corporation Bezopasnost LLP. The terrorists are getting the trade information directly from your clients." I paused to let that soak in.

"That's an interesting fairytale," Mel Townsend, the lead trader spoke up. "What proof do you have?"

"I'm not at liberty to give you all the details, but I can tell you we have been working with the NSA, CIA, and FBI including the FBI interagency Terrorism Financial Review Group (TFRG). They are preparing to take actions against the involved parties in accordance with Title III of the USA Patriot Act, also known as the International Money Laundering Anti-Terrorist Financing Act of 2001. Your clients are also in violation of the 1999 International Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism which requires parties to take steps to prevent and counteract the financing of terrorists."

"How convenient for you that you can't provide us any details," Townsend disparaged. "Are you suggesting we should abandon several of our more lucrative clients based on your word that they may be breaking laws?"

"You can take our advice and disengage now from all of the transactions involving these parties, or you can wait for the government to step in and freeze all the accounts associated with this scam. Not only will you lose access to those funds, but you will be tied up in a criminal investigation to determine if you were a knowing participant. I would think you would at least want to avoid the publicity associated with such an investigation. I'm just giving you a heads-up."

"Why would they investigate us?" Townsend asked. "Our clients are all above reproach. We've never done business with Bezopasnost or had anything to do with the Alexandroffs?" he continued defensively.

"How do you know about the Alexandroffs?" I asked.

"You mentioned them when you were talking about Bezopasnost," Mel replied.

"No I didn't," I said. "Regardless, if you have had any interactions with them, the FBI will discover it. If you have dealt with the Alexandroffs, I suggest you come clean now and minimize-the impact on your company's reputation."

"Mel, you've met with the Alexandroffs," Ed pointed out much to Mel's chagrin. "I remember you wouldn't let me attend the meeting."

"Mel, is that true?" Jerry asked from the head of the table.

"Possibly, I don't remember," Mel managed to answer.

"We need to talk after this meeting," Jerry informed Mel. Then, to the rest of the room, "I want to thank Miss Fieldhouse and Mr. Farley for this briefing and especially for the 'heads-up'. We will definitely take it under advisement. My thanks to all of you for coming. You can all get back to work now." The meeting was adjourned.

Jerry came up to me after the meeting and thanked us again for everything. He also implied that if we were correct about the pending prosecution of their client. There would be a huge bonus for us and an on-going contract to continue monitoring their system security.

I thanked him and we left.

#

We checked Amy out of her room and got her to the train station and on her way back to her mother in Maryland. We debated how to spend the rest of our afternoon. Central Park was right in front of us and I did want to see some of its sights. But I can see lots of beautiful nature in California. What we don't have in Silicon Valley is endless acres of skyscrapers. We opted to walk to Rockefeller Center. We saw Radio City Music Hall, N B C studios, and went to the Top of the Rock observation deck.

After dinner, we took the fifty-minute private carriage ride around Central Park. The four of us shared a carriage. It was dark enough to be romantic, if you ignored the smells of the city. As expected, Ripley proposed to Pixie. What was not expected, she turned him down.

"We all know you are just doing this because I'm pregnant," she explained. "That is not a reason I want for marrying anyone."

"You know that is not my only reason," Ripley pleaded.

"Are you really ready for all this? Marriage? A family?" she asked him.

"I would not have asked if I weren't."

"Well, I'm not," she declared firmly.

An awkward silence fell over the carriage. Finally, Pixie broke the tension.

"Look, it's not like I'll never marry you. Just not now. Ask me again when I'm not pregnant. You can get me drunk then and you'll get a less sober answer." She leaned over and kissed Ripley on the cheek. "Can we try to just enjoy the rest of the trip?" she pleaded.

Rogue and I looked at each other helplessly. I felt obligated to say something.

"You know, someday this will be a really funny story," I said.

"Someday," Ripley reluctantly agreed, but clearly it was going to take a while.

#End Chapter Twenty