I'm in a Hurry

I'm in a harry to get things done
Oh, I rush and rush until life's no fun
All I really gotta do is live and die
But, I'm in a hurry and don't know why.

 

Two hours. Trixie promised herself she would dedicate two hours to answer phone messages and emails. She had a meeting that afternoon with Mitsy and her boss to present her final report. Her evaluation of the division was complete but she still wasn’t comfortable she had exonerated William Thornhill. The textiles division at Control & Venture demonstrated a plethora of basic security problems, but no sign of illegal activity. William Thornhills corporate organization structure would require her to look at each division and make an evaluation. All she could do was include it as a recommendation in her report.

The feeling of falling behind was beginning to overwhelm her as the phone calls, inquiries, and emails continued to multiply. She had no choice but to spend some time each morning to return phone calls and answer emails that involved legitimate business inquires for the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency.

Trixie started the morning with a goal of reducing the thirty plus emails in her inbox to zero. However, even as she steadily worked to clear out the backlog, another half dozen inquiries arrived. Her decision not to answer the phone had backfired as well, when the business line accumulated eight phone messages. Trixie swallowed as she listened and jotted down each message. Glancing at the list, she realized she had not heard from Reid’s friend, Margaret.

Throwing down her pen in disgust, she glanced at the clock. If she were to complete the two errands she had planned that morning, she would have to get started. The ringing of the phone interrupted her musings and she glanced at the caller ID display, noticing the call was on a secure and encrypted phone line reserved for the government. She grabbed the phone and answered.

“Agent Belden.”

“Belden, is your situation clear?” Chief Agent Walker’s gruff voice was as Trixie remembered: all business.

“Yes, sir. Situation is green,” she replied automatically.

“Belden, what’s your schedule this morning? We need to meet with you.”

“In Chicago, sir?” Trixie stammered.

“New York,” he replied. “At the Federal Building in Midtown, we have a critical update.”

“My schedule is flexible, sir. I have some plans, but nothing that can’t be rearranged.”

“Be at the Federal Building no later than ten. Cover is a standard security briefing. Code name is Lady’s Slipper.” Chief Walker disconnected the call.

She pressed the end button, and then noticed that the standard line had added two new voice mail messages. Time was tight and she decided to wait. The subway will be the quickest and easiest way to get to the Federal Building. I’ll just check messages on the way. She hurried to dock her PDA and synchronize her files. As busy as things were, she needed her calendar to be current.

 

 

Trixie looked around the modern Federal Building thoughtfully. There had been a time in her career when she desperately wanted her next assignment to be in this very building, but instead she had landed in Chicago. In reflection, she had no regrets about the four years she’d spent in the Midwest.

The government property on the northern edge of the Financial District hummed with activity. Approaching the receptionist, she pulled identification out of her navy designer bag. The dark-suited young man typed some words into the computer, asked her the program name, typed again, and then directed her to the third floor.

After passing through several brief security checkpoints, she found herself in a typical government debriefing room sitting on a hard chair and glancing at her watch. It was five minutes until ten.

“Agent Belden.” Her boss and deputy director, Ben Walker, strode into the room. In one swift look, he took in her attire, designer briefcase, and hair. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you, sir. I have to admit, I’m more than a little surprised by this meeting.”

“There’s new information on your case, big enough to warrant a meeting.”

“What is it, sir?” Trixie was puzzled. They both knew the Bureau had secure methods of communicating with her.

“First, please give me a brief status update on your investigation.” Agent Walker leaned back, his fingertips touching as he stared at his agent. “Please summarize your case to date.”

Trixie nodded, and began to recount the events since her arrival in New York and subsequent meeting of Charlie Prescott. She talked for twenty minutes before concluding with her current investigation of Control & Venture.

“It looks good for the company so far,” she admitted. “I was only contracted to do the one division. The search software that I’m using is the goods, sir. Part of my report will include a recommendation that the agency investigate purchasing some licenses for use by agents. If we’d had this software on the banking fraud case last year, we would’ve been finished in half the time.”

“Your recommendation is duly noted for the record,” Ben Walker replied. “Are there no other problems?”

“There is one thing, sir.” Trixie hesitated, but she knew she owed it to Honey to bring this up.

“Yes? What is it?” He frowned; her hesitation was unusual.

“It’s slow getting introductions to these companies. While I’m focusing on that aspect of the case, the legal business entity incorporated as the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency is booming, sir. The same contacts that helped me gain an initial audience with our suspects are generating a substantial amount of genuine inquiries and requests for meetings and appointments. It’s becoming very difficult to operate as a single-person business. Just answering the phone and emails is impossible to handle while working the case full-time.”

“What about your partner? That Wheeler woman?”

“She’s still working for the District Attorney’s office in Boston, sir. She won’t be available for a few more months.”

“Then we may have a solution for you.” He leaned back in his chair. “Right now, time is of the essence. Intelligence reports indicate IRMA is close to obtaining the encryption technology. We’ve tried to find the infiltration without any luck. Perhaps a different approach is warranted.”

“A different approach?” she echoed in surprise. “Do you mean for me to stop investigating these businesses?”

“Absolutely not, but we want to know who’s got the technology so we can watch those firms more closely.”

Trixie frowned. “I’m not sure I follow you, sir.”

“What about some help, Belden? I’m offering to assign a couple of agents to your case to help you out. They can work in your office assisting you on cases when they’re not analyzing the data from the companies.”

“But sir, I don’t have an office!” Trixie was surprised at the urgency in his tone.

Deputy Chief Walker frowned. “Get one. Better yet, have one of the two agents we assign you to find some space and get it set up.”

Trixie nodded slowly, realizing for the first time, this was her case. He was letting her know she was the lead agent. During the past four years with the government, she worked only a few solitary cases. She didn’t have a team backing her up, or a partner to bounce ideas back and forth. The Bureau had put considerable resources at her disposal. For the first time, she realized the magnitude of the confidence they had placed in her abilities as an agent and a detective. All she had to do was pull it off.

“How much input do I have into the agents you’ll assign to work with me?” Trixie asked.

“I’ll listen, but the decision is mine.”

“I need agents who are strong in analysis with good computer skills who can review data quickly. Barnes would be excellent.”

Walker snorted. “Sure he would. He’s the best at data analysis and networking east of the Mississippi River.” He paused. “It happens he’s available. What about Freeman?”

Trixie wrinkled her nose remembering the new recruit. “Amy Freeman?”

“You have a problem with Freeman?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“No, sir, she’s a bit inexperienced. She’s got less than a year.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere. Barnes is the best.” He reminded her.

Trixie nodded, remembering how Jack had taken her under his wing when she was the junior agent in the branch. “Agreed.”

“Stay tuned. They’ll contact you and Freeman will start the search for an office for the Belden Wheeler Detective Agency. Now, tell me. How close are you to Mitsy Thornhill?” Walker was all business.

Trixie blinked as she shifted gears to return to the case. “Close, sir,” Trixie replied. “Why?”

Walker picked up the remote and directed it towards the bank of equipment located along one wall of the room. “Listen to this report.”

The screen flickered and within seconds, a male voice clearly projected from a digital recording. “Project: Orchid. Agent: 265890792. Code word: Stealth. Urgency: Cuban.”

Trixie’s eyebrows shot up. It was the first time she had ever heard a first-hand report of this urgency level. She leaned towards the speakers, listening carefully as the voice continued with a recitation of facts.

“Report: Infiltration of IRMA safe. Repeat, infiltration operation safe. Report is apple, contact confirmed as female. Repeat, contact confirmed as female. Agent 265890792 is out.”

Trixie looked at Deputy Director Walker, whose face was grim. “Sir, this is an actual report from one of our assets, correct?”

“Yes, I wanted you to hear it straight from the source. It came in yesterday. Do you understand the report?”

“Yes. Our asset is confirming IRMA’s contact is a woman. The intelligence report is a secure transmission and IRMA has no idea that data has been compromised.”

Walker nodded. “Correct. Does this narrow your search at all?”

Trixie thought for a moment and shook her head. “I don’t think so, sir. It may speed things up, but the review at Control & Venture still needs to be finished. While I’d like to tell you that I’m certain Mitsy Thornhill holds such an insignificant job there that it can’t be her, the truth is, she’s a stockholder of the company along with her parents. Her father has given her access to information that only his executive team has. For example, she can authorize the expenditure of funds up to ten million dollars even though she’s only an accounting lead in one division.”

Trixie paused. “Margaret Gaitley runs Kingston Technologies, and I haven’t managed to wangle an introduction to her yet. Tammy Langham is the President of Langham Industries. And…” Trixie hesitated, and then continued. “Madeleine Wheeler has always been involved with Wheeler International. She accompanies her husband on numerous business trips, many of which are overseas. It could potentially clear Richard Hoffman -- he’s single -- but I don’t know enough about his organization to say that with certainty. In fact, I’ve not met anyone in his organization.”

Deputy Chief Walker nodded, and Trixie thought she detected a feeling of relief emanating from his demeanor with her report. There was no time to dwell on it, however, as he immediately continued the meeting. “We need to get you out of here, quickly. Do you know who agent X is?”

“Yes,” Trixie admitted, and provided the name of the other agent working undercover on the case.

“How did you find out?” he asked.

“A minor slip during a conversation,” Trixie advised. “It wasn’t a slip that would mean anything to anyone other than me,” she reassured her boss. “He doesn’t know that I know. Do you want me tell him?”

Walker gave an emphatic nod. “Yes, you need to bring him in and give him this update. As you’ve probably realized, we can’t call him in without bringing attention to him. But we’re getting the feeling he’s hurting more than helping now.” Walker hesitated and then continued. “Belden, the general feeling is that we need to resolve this case quickly. Otherwise, we may be too late.”

“Quickly,” Trixie echoed faintly, still caught off guard by the pressure to get the case resolved.

“Yes, the signs are clear. This is going to culminate into a major security breach soon. If IRMA gets the encryption technology…”

“Understood and acknowledged, sir.”

“You have what you need?” He stood as if to indicate the end of the meeting.

“Yes, everything but a dress to wear to Jim’s fundraiser,” Trixie muttered.

“Are you seeking advice on fashion, Belden?” Walker seemed confused by her answer. “We can certainly have our European connection find you the appropriate attire.”

“Uh, no sir. I should be fine, sir.”

 

 

Trixie hurried to the subway station, knowing it would be the quickest route to the uptown florist. As soon as she landed in a hard seat in the subway train, she dialed the Wheeler’s penthouse on her cell phone. Glancing at her watch, she knew she had to make this call before her stop. She had really wanted to go and see Mrs. Wheeler in person.

When Mrs. Wheeler answered the phone, she sighed in relief, and launched into a somewhat disjointed explanation of the solution she had found. “Please, Mrs. Wheeler. Don’t you see David is the perfect solution?”

The voice on the other end broke up and Trixie bit her lip in frustration. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wheeler, you’re breaking up. What did you say?”

“Trixie, where on earth are you calling me from?” Grace Wheeler asked.

Trixie realized Mrs. Wheeler must have been hearing the background noise as the subway left the station. “I’m on the subway,” Trixie glanced around and noticed several puzzled glances directed at her.

“Trixie – what kind of phone service do you have that works on the subway?” Grace sounded bewildered.

Trixie mentally kicked herself. She couldn’t very well tell the truth. “It’s my work phone,” she replied with a shrug. “Just a fluke, I guess, or maybe they’ve installed repeaters in the tunnels.” She cringed as she noticed several people around her pull out cell phones and look at their service signals.

“Grace, please, will you give David a call?” Trixie’s stress caused her to call Mrs. Wheeler by her first name.

“Trixie, I understand we’re in a bind and we can’t be too particular about the florist we select, but I’m reluctant about using someone new.”

Trixie held her breath as Mrs. Wheeler spoke again. “You’ve seen his work?”

“Yes, on a limited scale. His shop is wonderful. It’s small, but he has his own greenhouse in the back and another one on top of the roof. When you go up there, it’s like walking into an enchanted forest.”

“How did you meet him?”

“I received an arrangement from a secret admirer and David helped me figure out who had sent it to me.” Trixie replied with complete honesty. “He has the most beautiful orchids.”

“Orchids.” Grace Wheeler echoed. She was quiet for a moment and then spoke. “He’s willing to do it?”

“Yes, I think so. I’m on my way to see him now.”

“Very well, Trixie. This seems to be important to you; tell him I’ll give him a call later this afternoon. Do you have his number?”

Trixie pumped her hand in triumph and rattled off the phone number. “Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. I’m sure you won’t be sorry about going with David. Botany and Blossoms is the most wonderful little shop.”

“A few moments ago you were calling me Grace,” Mrs. Wheeler said. “If you’re comfortable with it, I would love for you to continue that practice.”

Trixie flushed. “Thank you, Mrs., uh, Grace. I will.” She glanced up as she felt the subway slow. “I need to go, my stop is coming up.” Trixie disconnected and leaned back in relief. She noticed the young man in a dark blue suit sitting next to her was staring. She gave him a faint smile.

It was enough encouragement and he leaned forward. “Who’s your service provider? You’re the only person I’ve ever seen get cell phone reception in the subway. What kind of phone was that?”

“I’m not exactly sure who my company uses,” Trixie hedged. “The phone’s a prototype they gave me to try out. Maybe that’s why it worked.” She stood and started to move toward the door. “I’ll be sure and let them know how well it worked.”

“Wait!” He insisted, pushing a card on her. “If you find out, would you mind dropping me an email and letting me know?”

“Me, too!” A woman pulled a card of her purse. Before Trixie could get out of the subway, she had half a dozen business cards in her hand. She hurried up the stairs, cursing her stupidity in using the agency phone in the subway.

 

 

“Beatrix, darling!”

Trixie grinned widely. Only David Steward could manage to make her three syllable name sound even longer, not to mention drawling his “darling” out so long she could tick off the seconds. “It’s good to see you David. I’m hoping you have a few minutes for me.”

“For you? Of course I always have time for you.” He held her at arm’s length and studied her ensemble. “That is absolutely the most divine idea I’ve heard this week! Just give me uno momento to chat with Marta.” David grasped her hands as he spoke, giving them a squeeze before quickly moving through his tiny shop to speak with his assistant. As promised, he quickly reappeared with his long coat and scarf. “Might I suggest a quick coffee? The café down the block has the most divine chicken salad sandwiches and it’s rarely crowded before noon.”

Trixie hesitated. “I need to get to work.”

“Half a block,” he insisted. “They’ll be quick.”

Trixie agreed and in a short time, they were sitting in a corner of the coffee shop. Besides the barista, a clerk, and three older women, she and David were the only current residents. Trixie took a fortifying sip of her triple-shot white chocolate mocha espresso before launching into the purpose of her visit.

“David, you’re aware that I’ve been working with Jim Frayne on the fundraiser for his school next month?”

“Absolutely. It’s rumored to be the event of the spring social season,” he said, taking a dainty sip of his espresso. “Mummy and I are both planning to attend.”

“There’s been a bit of a snag with the decorations,” Trixie admitted, fiddling for a moment with her cup as she shifted in her seat.

“Oh?” David sat down his own cup and leaned forward with curiosity. “What kind of snag?”

Trixie managed to refrain from grinning as her flamboyant friend suddenly shifted into his now familiar “all-business” mode. “We don’t have anyone to handle the flowers. The committee responsible hit a snafu with the planned florist, then two committee members both thought the other was handling it. Now it’s only a few weeks away and there are no flowers. No one wants to take it on. Everyone says it’s too big and there’s not enough time to get orders in.”

David’s eyes narrowed and he picked up his cup and took another sip of espresso. He put his cup down prettily and stared at Trixie.

She sighed. “Yes, I’m asking you to do the flowers. Please, David. I promise if you can take this on, I’ll personally give you all my floral business, and I’ll recommend you to anyone who asks.”

“Beatrix, I’ll consider it.” He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to continue her plea. “Let me finish. I’ll have to confer with Marta, because an event this size means we’ll have to hire someone to help us. There’s just the two of us doing design, and a couple of deliverymen we use. Something as big as a fundraiser, well, it’s huge. But those concerns aside, how much creative license are you willing to give us?”

Trixie swallowed. She knew Mrs. Wheeler would have definite ideas about how the flowers for such an even should look. She hesitated and shook her head. “I can’t say. It’s something you’d have to work out with Grace Wheeler. Did you have something specific in mind?”

David shook his head. “Sweetie, I’ve thought this event was all wrong from the beginning. Why on earth would you hold a fundraiser for a school at the Guggenheim?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Trixie hedged, bewildered by the question.

“An art museum and a school, kids should be taught art. Why wasn’t the event planned for one of the local public schools? A fundraiser for a school should be held in a school, don’t you think?”

Trixie nodded slowly. “I see your point, but there’s no way we can change the location.”

David sniffed. “If Marta is willing and we can have complete creative control, then we’ll do it.” He once again held up a hand as Trixie’s jaw dropped in dismay.

“Complete creative control?” she repeated weakly. She shook her head. “David, as much as I might want to, I could never agree to that. I’m just a lowly committee worker.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shot up and he turned his head to study her as if she were an unusual insect. “I was under the impression that your uh, relationship, with New York’s most eligible bachelor was much more than that of a lowly committee worker.”

Trixie flushed. “David, please don’t make me use that connection. I just can’t.” She shook her head, remembering all the half-truths that had led her to this point in her mission, and gave him a miserable look. “Mrs. Wheeler, Grace, is planning to give you a call this afternoon. You can discuss creative control with her. Is that enough?”

David said nothing as he considered her offer. He took a sip of coffee before answering. “For you, it’s enough.”

She sagged in relief, reached across the table, and grabbed his hand. “Thank you, David. I owe you one.”

“Beatrix,” he hesitated. “You understand we’ll have to explore options besides flowers. The other florists aren’t fools. There isn’t time to order enough flowers for huge centerpieces. What did you plan for; fifty tables of ten at five-hundred dollars a plate?”

Trixie nodded. “Grace has an open mind, I promise. She’s said several times she wants this fundraiser to be different. That’s why she let us pick the band. The music is going to be great.” She gave a small grin. “You could invite your current significant other. I promise, he’d come closer to fitting in at this fundraiser than any other.”

David shook his head. “I’ll be working. Not to mention, Mummy’s already expecting me to escort her.” His gaze met and held hers as he set down his cup and leaned back. “But I promise to work with your Grace Wheeler, savvy?”

Trixie grinned. “Understood, now, can we talk about my other problem?” Her blue eyes twinkled.

“Absolutely! Although, I feel compelled to mention how much it pains me that you are only consulting with me when you have problems. This isn’t about the last picture of you in The Squawker is it?” David tilted his head to one side as he studied her. “What would The Squawker make of our luncheon, do you suppose?”

“To be honest, I don’t care,” Trixie replied stoutly. “But that’s not my problem.” She leaned forward and looked around carefully before she continued. “David, Mitsy Buchanan is wearing my dress to Jim’s fundraiser. You remember the bronze silky cocktail dress. What am I going to wear?”

David’s laugh tinkled through the small coffee shop. “Beatrix, darling, you’ve definitely got the right man to find you the right dress.”

 

 

Trixie glanced at her watch and groaned. It was already past noon and she had planned to arrive at Control & Venture no later than that. She made a quick call to Mitsy to let her know she was on her way into the office for their meeting. Glancing at her PDA, she noticed two new voice mail messages. As she walked along the busy sidewalk, the wind picked up, and she shoved her PDA into her pocket, shivering. Why did I rush out of the apartment without my gloves?

She pulled her coat tighter around her and debated the speed of the subway over the privacy of a taxi. Sighing, she realized that in the interest of time, taking the subway was her only choice. She needed to check her voice mail, and didn’t want to be caught once again using her phone on the underground mass transit system, well known for its inability to pick up cell signals.

In the end, she decided to walk a few blocks and then grab the subway at the next station. Hoisting her fashionable laptop shoulder bag to secure it firmly on her shoulder, she pulled her PDA back out to check the messages. She smiled as she heard Jim’s voice.

“Hey, Trix, just checking in with you. Dan said he’s finally making progress on the leak to the paparazzi. We’re hoping you might have some time for us tonight or tomorrow. Give me a call and let me know.” There was a pause in the message. “I miss you, Trix.”

Trixie smiled as she deleted the message, thinking it would be fun to spend some time with Jim and Dan. The smile quickly disappeared as she listened to the next message.

“Ms. Belden,” the speaker paused. “A former client of yours suggested that I give you a call. We’re having some problems with our computer network and he seemed to think you could help.” Maggie King rattled off her name and number before ending the message. Trixie stared at her phone. The strained voice signaled the problems at Ms. King’s company were serious. She returned the call and sighed as she left a message and her phone number, explaining that she would be in a meeting and unavailable for most of the afternoon. Glancing around at then at her watch, she picked up the pace, racing for the subway station.

 

 

Trixie arrived at Control & Venture with barely a half-hour to spare before her planned meeting. Earlier in the day, she had hoped to review her briefing one final time. She simply had to find a way to get into the other divisions of Control & Venture. Once her presentation came up on the screen, she sighed in relief. Quickly, she moved through the slides, reassured that she knew the right words, but unable to quell the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. There were no savings for Control & Venture indicated in her report. In fact, she was going to recommend that the company begin investing more money in Information Technology. It was vital that Control & Venture focus on the basics of computer security like virus protection and vulnerability scanning. Unfortunately, the current outsourcing of the function left corporate management powerless to insist that employees follow the most basic rules of virus protection.

“You ready?” Mitsy appeared in her door, looking nervous. Trixie stared. Mitsy rarely looked nervous.

She stood up a bit straighter and looked Mitsy in the eye, her tone completely confident.

“Absolutely. Let’s go.”

Trixie walked into the conference room and greeted Don Strickland, Mitsy’s boss and the Chief Financial Officer for the Fabrics and Textiles division, and then began loading her presentation. She had just finished when the president of the division, Simon, walked in. After a brief round of introductions, Trixie took a deep breath. The pressure was on.

She launched into her presentation, summarizing at a top level the items she had searched, and her findings. She paused several times; anticipating questions, and was more than a little surprised when none were forthcoming.

By the time she reached her recommendations slide, the room’s atmosphere was heavy with tension. When Trixie suggested a significant investment in IT for the division, as well as a recommendation that the company analyze other divisions for security problems, the meeting started to unravel.

The division president took the first shot. “It was my understanding, Ms. Belden that your company normally recommends changes that result in savings for companies. It’s a bit of a surprise to learn you’re recommending investment in additional infrastructure.”

“Companies that have mature and robust security policies, procedures, and technology roadmaps, can achieve savings with security evaluations,” Trixie answered. She glanced at Mitsy, whose face was bland. “However, there is a considerable lack of expertise in this division. There is no daily supervision of the support functions, no verification of backups, and a large percentage of out-of-date virus protection. These are basic security concerns that need to be addressed.”

“You’re misinformed,” he advised her coldly. “We outsource those functions.”

“Yes, you do, sir,” she agreed pleasantly.

Mitsy’s boss spoke up, clearly as nervous at Mitsy. “Canton-Black is considered tops in the field. They have one of the highest percentages of Microsoft-Certified desktop support technicians of any company in the world.”

“None of which are assigned to support this division of Control & Venture,” Trixie informed him. “The most experienced desktop support tech working here has three years of experience. He has no daily supervision and his triage consists of working problems in order of seniority of the person making the call.” She shook her head. “We’re sitting here in a meeting discussing your computer security, and we don’t have a single Control & Venture employee who has the responsibility to manage the Canton-Black account.”

“Now wait a minute,” Simon spoke up with a frown. “Allen Lacy is a Control & Venture employee. He’s the CIO of this division.”

“That’s odd,” Trixie murmured. “I’ve been working here over a week, and I’ve never seen him.”

“Al’s out on a special assignment,” he said coldly. He glanced at Mitsy and Don. “You’ll recall he was assigned to be on the acquisition and merger team for Project Purple.” Like many companies, Control &Venture used code names for projects that were sensitive to competition.

Mitsy nodded slowly. “There isn’t anyone covering his job right now,” she said quietly.

Simon shook his head. “You and Don should be covering that. If you haven’t been reviewing the work Canton’s been providing, then the problems are on the two of you.”

Trixie was flabbergasted. Mitsy and Don had never indicated any responsibility for the desktop support functions. They worked heavily with the group that supported their accounting system, but little else.

Mitsy spoke up, but her voice was timid. “To be fair, there have been a few problems. The Cupids Arrow Trojan infected one machine, and we lost the network over the weekend as the result of a crash. We had to re-key two days’ worth of vouchers and transactions because the back-up wasn’t current.”

“Those things are routine. Every business has those problems,” Simon growled.

Trixie shook her head. “That’s not true. Most businesses have the right processes in place to prevent those things from happening. It’s true that computers will crash, but effective backups will not result in duplicating entries into your system. A simple rule is to take your weekly payroll and divide by five. That’s what the lost network cost you, a day of productivity. Your employee who was infected had turned off her virus software, probably trying to figure out why her computer was so slow. It was slow because she was running an operating system that was three versions behind, no longer supported, and covered in spyware.” Trixie took a deep breath. “The real savings for your company will come when your employees are productive and not worrying about things of that nature.”

“There are other things employees can do while systems are rebuilt,” Simon informed her, standing. “This meeting is a waste of time and money. I can’t believe we spent one dime for you to tell us what we should already know. My understanding of your company is that you recommend ways for us to save money, not more ways for us to spend money.”

“My company investigates security risks for companies in a wide variety of areas,” Trixie answered, looking him straight in the eye and not backing down. “You’re at risk -- major risk -- for a system crash, a virus infection or to be hacked. Unless you’re willing to fix basic security problems, there isn’t any way to save you money.”

“This presentation is a joke!”

“No sir, it’s not. What’s a joke is the fact that you’re paying Canton-Black thousands of dollars a month to provide an inferior service.”

Simon’s face grew red. He appeared angry that Trixie had stood up to him. He took a step backward, his eyes narrowed. “What qualifications do you have to make such an assessment on this company’s security?” He glanced over at Mitsy, disgust in his voice. “Other than being a social acquaintance of the boss’s daughter, I’m not sure why we would have hired you to begin with.”

Trixie gave a small smile as she realized Simon reminded her of one of the bank presidents the CIB had busted early in her career. It appeared he resented Mitsy working in his division and was trying to turn the focus away from his poorly run operation and onto her. “My qualifications can withstand any scrutiny you wish to give them, sir,” she answered calmly.

“That remains to be seen,” he snarled. “However, I’m not investing another penny in your contract. Wrap it up and get out of here. You’re fired. Send us your final bill.” He glanced at Mitsy. “I’m disappointed you would waste your father’s money in this manner, Miss Thornhill. I do not intend to allow these costs to jeopardize my operating budget. I’ll be forced to send the invoice to him for approval.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Trixie interjected smoothly. “Since you’re not satisfied with the service provided, there won’t be an invoice.”

The man seemed surprised, but he nodded even as a small frown etched his forehead. “Very well, then.” He picked up her report and moved to leave the room.

“Excuse me, sir,” Trixie said. “But I’ll need the report back from you.”

“What?” he asked confused.

“My report.” She smiled and held out her hand. “Since you think it’s worthless and you won’t be paying for it, I certainly can’t allow you to keep a copy of my, uh, joke of a report.”

His jaw dropped, and he was obviously unable to think of a single retort. He handed her the report and left the meeting, glaring at Mitsy and her boss on his way out.

Trixie shook her head, and moved to shut down the computer. She did not intend to leave a copy of her presentation behind.

“Beatrix,” Mitsy gasped. “I am so sorry…” she began.

Trixie held up a hand. “Please don’t, Mitsy. That man is an idiot. I thought your Dad was smarter than to have someone like that running one of his divisions.”

“Simon and Daddy go way back,” Mitsy explained, embarrassed at the division president’s behavior. “Don and I, well, we just tend to tiptoe around him and do the best we can. To be honest, if Al were here – he’d probably give you a fair shake.”

Don spoke up. “This is probably going to be the end of the road for me, Mitsy,” he said glumly. Simon can’t fire you, and I have a feeling he’s going to make an example of me instead. Can you believe that shot about us covering Al’s job?”

Mitsy looked miserable. She liked her boss, just not his boss.

“Beatrix, please. Give us a few days to calm him down. Maybe call Al into it.”

Trixie shook her head. “Mitsy, I have more business than I can handle right now. I don’t need to force myself into this account.” Noting the expression on Mitsy’s face, she sighed. “Look, when your guy… Allen Lacy, right?”

Mitsy nodded.

“When he gets back from this special assignment, set up a lunch or something for the three of us. I’ll go over the findings with him and he can decide what he wants to do about Canton-Black and the outsourcing. Until then, well…” She shook her head as she thought of the of the network’s vulnerability. “Maybe things will operate smoothly until he gets back.”

“Thanks, Beatrix,” Mitsy said, her voice despondent. “But if Simon does anything to Don over this, I’m going to go to Daddy.”

Trixie said nothing and turned to pack up the projector unit. Looking up, she realized she had to say something to Mitsy; the risks to Control & Venture were too great. “Mitsy, all I can tell you is this: If this was my dad’s company, and we were vulnerable to catastrophic disaster like you are with your network, I’d be in his office in the next five minutes.”

Mitsy shook her head. “I can’t go over Simon’s head, Beatrix. I just can’t.”

Trixie bit her lip. You can, she thought to herself. You just won’t!