People Gonna Talk

People gonna talk about the things you do,
They're gonna talk, be it a lie or truth.
Night and day, day or night,
They're gonna talk, be in wrong or right.w
People gonna talk about you, anyway.

 

“The procedures are in order, but I really would be a lot happier if you’d run the spyware check one more time,” Trixie said, glancing at her watch before she took the report Sean handed her from Wheeler International. “I don’t like the fact that the virus protection software keeps missing some of the routine spyware. Shareware has its place, but not in a business this size.”

Sean nodded. “Will do. Why do you suppose they’re cutting corners on this?” he asked. “Everything else Wheeler provides for his company is first class.”

“I don’t know, but you’d better believe it’s going into the report.” She paused. “You don’t think this is what Saad’s nervous about do you?” She glanced at her watch again.

“Beats me. At least we’ve made certain that Wheeler doesn’t have any computers that aren’t part of his system network. Even all the laptops assigned to project managements have been checked out.” He noticed Trixie check her watch yet again. “Do you have an appointment this morning?”

“I’m expecting a call,” she admitted. “And I can’t miss it, even though I don’t like taking calls while I’m working at a client’s site –” She stopped as her phone rang. She looked at the display and grinned triumphantly. “Excuse me just a minute, Barnes.”

Trixie moved to a corner of the spacious office Matthew Wheeler had assigned to them and spoke in a low tone. Sean frowned as he overheard her make an appointment for the following week.

“What happened to your resolution to postpone all the security evaluations until after the fundraiser?” Sean asked in dismay. Her team was working ten and twelve hour days to complete their analysis of Wheeler International and Langham Industries, in addition to taking care of enough cases to look as if Trixie’s business was entirely legitimate. They had worked straight through the weekend in an attempt to get ahead on Wheeler’s analysis before they started on Langham Industries.

“I couldn’t exactly tell William Thornhill to wait, now could I?” she answered.

“You’re still thinking Thornhill might be involved?” Sean’s jaw dropped in surprise. “I thought once we finished up with your future in-laws that we were going to focus on Allison Beckhart and Chris Williams?”

Trixie’s eyes narrowed and she glared at Sean. “Do not refer to the Wheelers as my future in-laws!”

Sean snorted. “Yeah, whatever. How many times has Jim called you this week? It’s killing him to be in Washington right now. What exactly happened between you two that weekend in Sleepyside?”

“I told you, he told me about Mike King and Kingston Technology.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sean waved a dismissive hand at her. “You might fool Freeman with that story, but I know better. Every time you see his number on your caller-ID, you jump. When Freeman gives you a message, you get all jittery. You act just like my sister did when she was planning to elope with –” He stopped suddenly.

“Belden, just how far off are those gossip rags, anyway,” he asked slowly. “You’re not wearing a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“My relationship with Jim Frayne is not the point of this investigation.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “Jim is fully aware of the gossip about our relationship. Should my status change in that regard, you’ll be the first to know,” she said icily. “Now, can we please talk about Thornhill?”

“Sure, we can talk about it, but he didn’t do it.”

“What? You don’t think there’s a chance Mitsy left because things got too hot for her at Control & Venture?”

“Nope. I also think you’re looking at the wrong Beckhart.”

“You think his daughter could’ve done this?” Trixie gasped. “But she’s too young – she’s only …” She fumbled for her notes.

“No, I think Reid did it,” he replied with a shake of his head.

It was Trixie’s turn to be surprised.

“When did this happen?” She managed to ask.

“You told us a couple of times now that you think Reid’s protecting someone. Maybe he’s protecting himself. The first time you went to see him the security on his building and his infrastructure was so loose that a group of fifth graders could’ve taken him down. It turns out the important research and development projects are in locked rooms, keyed with fingerprint recognition technology, and the development is conducted on standalone computers. That guy is smarter than you’ve given him credit for. That ORCHID project is no fluke.”

Trixie stared in disbelief. “I agree with you on the ORCHID project, but I’m not sure I follow you on the rest. It tells me that Reid secured the part of his company he cares about the most.”

“Yeah, right.” Sean took a deep breath. “He doesn’t care about a company that nets him more cash than he can spend.”

“Do you want to tell me when you came to this conclusion?” Trixie pushed a hand through her curls. Sean’s change of heart had her bewildered.

“I’ve been developing a computer profiling model for several years now,” he noticed Trixie’s odd look and hurried to add, “a hobby of mine, something I do for fun, on my own time,” he explained.

Trixie nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“Last night I ran all our data through it – everything we’ve captured in our database for this case.”

“Really?” Trixie quietly and pondered this new information for a few moments. “Do you mind if I ask who was number two?” she finally said.

“Harold Langham,” he answered, and held up a hand. “Look, before you say anything, the model is rough. I know there are some problems with it, and admittedly, it still needs work. But this is the first case I’ve been assigned to where I could actually try it out.”

“Who was the most likely female suspect?” she asked.

“None came up within a legitimate probability ratio,” he admitted, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Look, I know this sounds flaky, but using scientific profiling about who is most likely to have committed a crime is well respected in our field. We both know the crime statistics.”

Trixie took a deep breath. “I’m having a hard time believing a scientific algorithm that seems to be ignoring a key piece of evidence. You’re aware that our agent who is deep undercover managed to report to the Bureau that the leak is a female. If the suspect is Beckhart or Langham, who is the leak?”

“Their secretaries could be doing it unwittingly,” he suggested.

Trixie choked at the thought of the prim Edith Thomas conveying details to terrorists. She studied her fellow agent for several seconds, and noticed him twisting a pencil. “Are you willing to admit that perhaps there’s a flaw in your algorithm?” she asked him finally.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Like I said, I’ve been playing with it for years. I can’t seem to get it nailed. I’ve used several case histories to try to get it set correctly. But …” he shrugged. “I guess you think it needs work.”

“Yesterday, you were all over Chris Williams. Today, you think its Reid Beckhart or Harold Langham. You know that I have great respect for science and math, but can you give me a logical reason why we should shift the focus of our case to these two guys?”

“I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that you’re wasting your time with Thornhill,” he admitted.

“Okay. I’m willing to go there,” she replied. “Why?”

“Thornhill has a steely resolve about him. It’s the strong businessman persona that makes me think he’d be a formidable opponent. That’s why I think Control & Venture is absolutely in the clear.”

Trixie leaned back in her chair. “What do you know about his resolve?”

“I read his background information in the case file. I noticed a couple of things and then I asked Freeman to run a deeper background check on him. With that information, I did some more research.” He paused, making sure he gave the right credit to Amy. “You know how crummy the bureau’s original data was. Freeman’s done a lot to fill in some of the missing holes. But you had us research associations, and Freeman found where Thornhill was a supporter of Columbia School of Business. It turned out he taught a seminar at Columbia and gave a lecture. I was able to, um, well … let’s just say I became a student for a day to access the online media and review his seminar material, and hear his lecture.”

“You didn’t hack into the school’s system!” Her surprise was evident.

“Not exactly.” He grinned. “I actually paid for a listener’s license. It was worth it. I was impressed. He taught a seminar on negotiations. He conducted a mock negotiation and he concluded with his lecture. He was powerful and in charge. Seriously, Beatrix, I would not want to interrogate that man. He made mincemeat out of the others on the panel. I think they were all checking their wallets when they left to make sure they still had their money. The man was something else. Donald Trump and Bill Gates could only aspire to his level. He would kick their asses!”

Trixie leaned forward, capturing Sean’s gaze. “Now, tell me how that led you to the conclusion that he’s innocent.”

“Because he’s too strong of an individual, terrorists wouldn’t scare him. They would know they couldn’t manipulate him. We studied that type in profile training.”

Trixie was quiet for a moment as she considered Sean’s words. “Are you sure Thornhill fits that profile?”

Sean shrugged. “Predictive profiling is tough. However, when it comes to Thornhill there’s a certain …. presence. No matter what life throws at him, I get the sense that he would persevere.”

“Why did you use predictive profiling? You just told me how you’ve been working on an algorithm based on scientific profiling for years.”

“The background information we dug up, we found out he attends church every Sunday. He not only attends services regularly, get this … he gives. Both generously and anonymously.” He grinned at Trixie. “We did add churches to the database details, by the way. Not cross hits on them, but it seemed to go along with charities and it was worth a shot.”

“Good idea,” Trixie interjected. “I should have thought of that one.”

He nodded his thanks and proceeded. “But when it comes to profiling Thornhill, in terms of the profile I came up with – no terrorist in the world would turn him to commit treason.”

“Have you profiled other suspects?” Trixie asked curiously.

“Just through my program,” he admitted.

“Well – come on, why are you holding back on me, Barnes?”

“Because I don’t do well with profiling until I actually meet the people.”

“But you didn’t meet Thornhill,” she protested.

“I got a good sense of him from the online seminar and lecture,” he answered.

Trixie nodded. “Let me ask you something. Forget your algorithm for a few minutes. If your gut tells you that Thornhill is innocent, who does your gut say is guilty?”

“Reid Beckhart,” he said quietly. “Look, I know you like the guy – but nobody gets to be that rich that quickly without cutting a few corners. He’s not even forty! In a couple more years, he’s going to be the richest guy on the planet.”

Trixie shook her head. “I get the feeling that Reid is involved in this somehow, but more that he’s being used as a tool, a means to an end. I was really hoping we’d have this figured out by now.”

Sean’s computer dinged and he looked again at the process he had run. “Boss, I’m telling you Wheeler International is clean. Everything -- process, test, procedure, and audit demonstrate that he’s squeaky clean. What else do you need me to do?”

“What about the research and development projects?” she asked. “Did all of those pass the tests as well?”

“Yeah. They’re not in line with what we’re looking for,” he answered. “Look, Belden – can I tell you something else my gut tells me?”

“Of course.” Relief washed over her at Sean’s assurances that Wheeler International had passed the toughest scrutiny they had given a suspect company.

“I think Chief Walker knew Wheeler International was clean. I think they were your test, to see if you could actually carry out the project. Take a look at their work and divisions.” Sean waved a hand as if inviting her to look around. “They’re not like the other companies. They do engineering work and services. The telecommunications projects are services, not products. If they want or need the encryption security, they’ll go pay top dollar for it. You can see that Wheeler doesn’t scrimp on the tools he gives his managers. They all work with the best equipment available. He buys materials from Fireking to incorporate in his projects. He uses software from B3 and Jupiter Plains. He routinely purchases chemicals from Control & Venture, and Eastway-Berkley handles all of his flight-safety and even manages his corporate jet. Hell, he has a joint venture going on with Langham right now in Singapore, and he buys security products from Triad. In fact, the only companies on the list that Wheeler doesn’t do business with are Torch and Kingston.” He let out a breath as he finished his litany of the companies.

“That answers the why, then.” Trixie nodded in understanding.

“What? You think I’m right?” he asked, surprised she had taken his theory seriously.

“No,” she shook her head. “But you’re close. Wheeler is on the list because when they looked at the other suspects; he did business with most of them. And you can even connect him to Kingston because Jim and Mike King are college roommates.”

“So wonder why he isn’t connected to Torch?” Sean asked, turning back to his computer.

“Good question.” Trixie responded. “How about you find out?”

“You want me to find out why Wheeler doesn’t do business with Torch?” he asked.

“Yep,” she nodded. “I have a feeling that might tell us something.”

 

 

A few hours later, Trixie pulled her coat around her more tightly. She was questioning her decision to walk the numerous blocks from Wheeler’s offices in the financial district to her own office. “It’s supposed to be spring,” she muttered to herself. Springtime in New York could be rejuvenating, but today April was fooling them all with a decidedly icy wind.

Sean’s need to make an emergency dental appointment had ended their work at Wheeler for the day. All they had left to do was complete the research on the connection with Torch and write their final report for Matthew. But Trixie wanted to ponder the case and its myriad of connections. Walking was her way of clearing her head and thinking. She wanted to mull over Sean’s insistence on Thornhill’s innocence. It’s hard to dismiss him, because my gut’s telling me the same thing, she admitted as she walked, jamming her hands into her coat pockets more deeply.

The insistent vibrating of her cell phone interrupted Trixie’s thoughts. She glanced at the caller-ID unit, and smiled at Jim’s name. Glancing around, she headed toward Bryant Park where she could be out of the way, sit, and talk. She answered as she increased her pace, all thoughts of the chilly wind forgotten.

“Hey, Jim.”

“How’s my favorite private investigator?” he asked.

“Cold. Tired. Frustrated.” Trixie pulled up the collar of her coat, trying to block the icy wind. “This case is giving me fits.”

“You’ve found some problems with Dad’s business?” Jim’s surprise at her answer was clear.

“No! Oh, no. Another case. We’ve just about finished with Wheeler International. I’m scheduled to do an exit meeting with your Dad early next week to review our recommendations. Not much left there but the final report.” Trixie paused and changed the subject. “What about your project there? Will you be coming home soon?”

“I hope so,” he answered vehemently. “More than once in the last week, I’ve questioned my decision to go with a computer model of the school instead of the traditional architect’s model. Jeff Townsend would’ve finished his scale model weeks ago and I wouldn’t be sweating this.” Jim’s architect had offered to provide a model of the school for display at the fundraiser, but Jim had wanted something different and opted for a 3-D computerized model of the school that would actually walk people down the hallways and into the various rooms of the building.

“You told me back in January it would just mean taking the architect and engineering drawings and converting them to the 3-D model,” Trixie reminded him, sitting on an empty park bench. “Standard computer-aided design and drawing was what you said.”

“You’re right, that part is. It’s actually incorporating all the SMARTSchool piece that’s been giving us fits.”

“You know just showing the model would be enough for your benefactors,” she said.

“Now you sound like Mother!” Jim teased. “You’re right, of course. That’s our fallback position. But I’m really hoping to be able to package and sell the SMARTSchool software part of this to other educational institutions. It would be a mechanism to secure funding for … for the school in the future.”

Trixie grinned as she realized Jim had almost told her the name of the school. “You almost let it slip, Frayne.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put me in that tired and frustrated category with you. But I’m frustrated about a lot more than the video demonstration of my school.”

“Oh?” Trixie pressed her back against the park bench.

“I can read The Squawker in Washington as easily as I can in New York,” he reminded her. “Did you see it today?”

“Actually, I missed it. But Sean told me about it. He thinks you and I are going to elope like his sister.”

“Trixie Belden!” Jim admonished. “You continue to drop bombshells on me like that and I’m going to do something drastic.”

“Well, he did!” she protested. “Like I tried to explain to you before, I’m just quoting people. These are not my ideas.”

“But even you have to admit that they’re good ideas,” he replied in a seductive and husky voice.

“Jim,” she warned, tightening her grip on the cell phone. “Not now.”

“Why?”

“The distance, for one thing.”

“Physical or emotional?” he asked.

Trixie closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She battled with her conflicting emotions. Secretly, it thrilled her that Jim thought eloping was a good idea. But she couldn’t forget the secrecy of her true assignment. Taking a deep breath, she replied.

“Both. We’re hundreds of miles apart. Besides, I told you that things are moving too fast and the situation is too complicated right now.” She bit her lip and willed him to drop this part of the conversation.

Seconds ticked by before Jim spoke again. “We’re going to talk about this in person. You know that, don’t you?”

“Does that mean you’re coming back soon?” she asked.

“I’ll be back when we get this last bug worked out, or Saturday morning, whichever comes first. You didn’t forget about the Figure Skating in Harlem event, did you?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when I know more about my schedule.” Jim paused. “And, Trixie, I’d really appreciate it if you’d save any more bombshells until you’re willing to talk about them.”

Before she could formulate a response, Jim had disconnected. Trixie stared at the phone in her hand. The conversation had done nothing to alleviate her dissatisfaction with the case -- or the status of her relationship with Jim.

It’s my own fault , she thought to herself. She snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into her bag. I shouldn’t have ever told him what Diana asked me. She bit her lip as she recalled Jim’s face when she had revealed the gossip from the tea. Her refusal to open the door hadn’t helped the situation, but after all, she reasoned. I had reports to write, and Jim didn’t spend all afternoon at that silly tea wearing a stupid hat!

Refusing to dwell on what she might have done differently; Trixie shook her head and looked around. Bryant Park had become one of her favorite stops in midtown. Although the ice skating rink had closed for the season, she liked to sit and watch people hurry along through one of the busiest sections of the city. A young woman hurried by, her Burberry plaid scarf whipping like a kite tail in the wind. The wind was a tease, as it would spit a few flakes of snow at her from time to time as she watched various New Yorkers scurry along, chatting on cell phones or striding down the sidewalk, intent on reaching their destinations. Gazing at the massive edifice of the New York Public Library behind the skating rink, she decided its large windows reminded her of sheets of ice, and she pulled her coat tighter, wishing she had worn a hat. A group of women appeared from the front of the library, pulling on their coats and tugging on gloves as they encountered the sharp wind. Of course! She thought, standing up. There are plenty of places to sit and think inside the library. Warm places.

In less than two minutes, she was walking up the steps, glancing at the two stone lions that flanked the main entrance. Patience and Fortitude, she thought as she stopped and looked at the lions for a moment. Mayor La Guardia had bestowed the nicknames on the lions during the Great Depression. That’s exactly what I need right now, Patience and Fortitude.

She noticed a group of schoolchildren grouping for the beginning of a tour and headed upstairs towards the popular main reading room. While standing in line at the coat check, Trixie struggled to ignore the giggling teen-age girls in front of her as they discussed their upcoming prom. Jim had made her own prom something special and the conversation between the girls only irritated her.

When she finally reached the main reading room, she slipped into the first empty space she found, and stared at the computer screen in front of her. She shook her head as she realized someone before her had been reading Page Six online. She perused the entry and after poking around the site, came to the realization that in the overall scheme of things, her relationship with Jim was relatively small news. She moved the mouse to close the window when she noticed she had been reading a column that was over a year old, from the library’s archives.

I’m an idiot , she thought as she closed the window and picked up her purse. She made her way back to the librarian’s desk.

“May I help you?” The librarian smiled at her.

“I’m not sure,” Trixie paused, embarrassed at the idea of asking a librarian for gossip rags to read. “I was wondering what kind of material you might have if a person wanted to do some research.”

“We have a wide variety of materials, magazines, newspapers, and of course, our online archives. In addition, we subscribe to a number of specialized online research publications,” the librarian replied kindly. “What’s your area of research?”

Trixie stammered, “Manhattan society gossip.” Her face burned and she knew she was beet-red as she made the confession.

The librarian frowned. “Are you working on a paper about exploitive journalism?”

“Something like that,” Trixie answered, straightening her shoulders. “Do you have all the society periodicals online?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied. “I can give you a quick demonstration, but if you’re a permanent resident of the city, you can access our online periodicals by simply being a library member. Do you have a library card?”

Trixie left fifteen minutes later, her library card, login name, and password tucked safely in her designer handbag. With access to the library’s resources, it was possible her team could find out more about the web of relationships between family members of their suspect companies – and how those companies were linked in the investigation.