Power of Attorney (7 page)

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Authors: N.M. Silber

Tags: #lawyers, #romantic comedy, #humorous

BOOK: Power of Attorney
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When I entered, Sachs was seated at his desk. He was on the phone at that moment but he glanced my way and signaled that he would only be a minute. So I had a seat in a burgundy colored leather chair across from him and took the opportunity to check out my surroundings.

The first thing that I noticed was how good his office looked. Okay, the first thing I noticed was how good he looked in his office.  He was dressed in shirtsleeves, his dark hair a little rumpled. Rumpled hair. Like he had just woken up. After a night of passion.
Focus, Abby or you’ll wind up being Trog’s Maid of Honor.

The place really was tastefully done. I reminded myself that he spent all his time here.
He’s a workaholic, Abby. He doesn’t have time for nights of passion.
I guess if you were going to spend all of your time in your office, you might as well make it your own. This space definitely said something about its occupant.

The desk behind which he sat was made of a rich dark wood that had some intricate carving and appeared to be an antique. It was solidly built and looked like it could probably last another century. Mr. Sachs liked things that were beautiful but strong.

The wall to my left housed shelves filled with books, including some old leather-bound editions. Besides the usual volumes one typically saw in an attorney’s collection, I also noticed some more esoteric works. John Rawls’
A Theory of Justice
jumped out at me; very impressive. It appeared Mr. Sachs was an intellectual, or at least liked people to think he was.

There was a Persian rug covering the industrial gray carpet, and a banker’s lamp replaced overhead florescent lighting. To a certain extent, this place looked more like a gentleman’s study than a government-issue public servant’s office. It was masculine, but still warm and classic.  Mr. Sachs had very good taste.

Finally, my eyes drifted to the wall behind him. There were diplomas from Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania Law School, along with various awards and commendations. There were framed photos as well, one with a younger Boy Wonder in cap and gown with an attractive older couple, undoubtedly his parents.  I didn’t see any siblings. He
seemed
like the only child type. There were a few with notable figures, others with guys who looked like close friends.

There were also a couple of photos of him with very attractive women. From the poses, I suspected they were girlfriends, but since Sachs looked younger in those pictures too, they were probably exes.  I noted that there weren’t any pictures of my sister-in-law, which I’m sure would make my brother happy. But then, I believe that they only dated for a short time. Hmm. Very interesting indeed.  My perusal was cut short as he hung up the phone and turned to look at me.

He studied me silently for a few moments. We seemed to do that a lot, just contemplate each other. Personally, I was contemplating doing illicit things, but I couldn’t tell what he was contemplating. He was hard to read. It was interesting that neither one of us seemed uncomfortable or compelled to fill the void with idle chatter.

Even though he still made my heart beat faster, I had my lawyer hat on.  I had a client to think about and I am a professional, as I had reminded myself
ad nauseam
on the way over there. So, I didn’t look away.  I didn’t flinch and I certainly didn’t swoon.  Again, I’ll admit that there was a tingle, but I kept it under control. Mostly.

“My sources tell me that you’re a lot like your brother.”

“I taught him everything he knows,” I answered with a smile.

“He and I don’t get along very well.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“I think that you and I might get along better though.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“What reads as cockiness in him seems more like confidence in you. Cockiness gets on my nerves, but confidence I like, especially when it’s deserved.”

“Gee, thanks. I guess I probably shouldn’t tell you what
my
sources say about your ego then,” I replied and to my pleasant surprise he actually laughed. “You’re amused? So, I guess it’s not his sarcastic humor you have a problem with?”

“Oh, I have a problem with that too.”

“But not with mine?”

“You understand appropriate context.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The courtroom is place of tradition and honor. From what I’ve seen, you maintain your dignity in court, even in difficult circumstances. He, in contrast, cracks jokes there. It’s not sarcasm I have a problem with; it’s respect for context.”

“Loudly making a sarcastic comment about your missing colleague at your press conference wasn’t inappropriate?” Not that I wanted to remind him, but I was genuinely curious about why he couldn’t stand Adam’s smart mouth but mine was fine.

“You didn’t say it. Ms. Solomon did.” Good thing that I had good volume control.

“Why did you look at me then?” I asked, confused.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he said, not answering my question. “You want information and so do I. Ladies first, tell me what you want to know.” He was smart. He wasn’t going to offer anything more than I demanded. I had to admit that I really did enjoy the challenge of facing a good lawyer.

“Why don’t we start with who, and what, brought our client, Mr. Collins, to your attention,” I responded, keeping both my voice and my eye contact steady.

“You know about Randall Greene.” He picked up a pen and idly started twirling it between his fingers.

“I take it that he hasn’t reappeared yet.”

“No. And in addition to filling in for him, as I said at the press conference, I’m also trying to do everything I can help find him.”

“That’s very professional and very nice of you. Are you two good friends?”

“Randall’s a colleague. It’s the right thing to do,” he said simply.

“And what does Mr. Greene’s disappearance have to do with my client?”

“I’ve been going through his notes and files trying to figure out what he was working on when he disappeared. I even turned his computer over to the FBI lab to see if he had deleted anything recently that might be relevant. The lab guys found something odd. It seemed that a bunch of data had been wiped from his computer via an untraceable remote access the day he disappeared.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of data it was?”

“Yes, I do actually.  The lab guys were able to recreate it.  It contained references to an online break-in at a company called DocuKeep, details about the date and time. He had tagged it as ‘urgent and classified.’ There was also the name, Deon Flux.”

“Go on,” I urged.

“We started researching Deon Flux and found that someone with that name had been commenting in an online chat group frequented by techies ... about a break-in at a company called DocuKeep.”

“And what exactly did she say?” I asked.

“How do you know that Deon is a she?” he asked and I realized that he had caught me. His eyes were gleaming again. I was angry with myself, but madly turned on by his sharp mind.  What a shocker.

“I don’t. I just don’t make assumptions.” I smiled.  “You were going to tell me what
Deon
said I believe.”

“My turn first. Your colleagues both claim that
if
Mr. Collins were involved in any way with this break-in, it would only have been because he wanted to make a political statement about knowledge being free.”

“That’s correct. He would, hypothetically of course, have downloaded a great quantity of say, scientific research, and made it freely available to those who needed it but couldn’t afford it.”  Sachs got a dismissive look on his face and tossed down the pen he had been twirling.

“If that was the point, then why did he only download one article about DNA sequencing? He had to have another purpose.”

“He was just checking things out, figuring out the system ... hypothetically! If he actually did it, although I’m not saying that he did.”

“Ms. Roth, what you must understand is that even if he had downloaded hundreds of files, printed them up and passed them out on the corner of 15
th
and Market with a cup of lemonade and a free kitten, it still would not merit the attention of the Computer Crimes Division of U.S. Attorney’s Office.”

“You’re asking
me
why
your
colleague was interested in a simple politically motivated online break-in?  Well, I’m afraid that I have no idea. But I do know this. Just because he
was
interested, that does
not
mean that there was any more to it than that.”

“There
has
to be more to it.  Not only was Greene interested, but someone hacked into his system to try to hide that interest and now he’s missing.”

“Maybe he just needed a break and took a short trip or something.”

“Without telling anyone?”

“I don’t know. People melt down.”

“Not him. His job is his life.”

“Are you sure? Maybe he just realized one day that he life was passing him by and he wanted to travel, and have hobbies ... and feel passionate!” I paused, realizing that I wasn’t talking about Greene anymore and that Sachs was giving me a funny look. “I’m just saying that lots of people get to that point,” I concluded, sounding suspiciously defensive, even to my own ears.

“Okay,” he replied after a moment’s hesitance, “but not this guy. How do I say this? He’s the kind of guy who goes to Star Trek conventions, in costume. He color codes his pens and schedules his bowel movements.”

“So maybe he didn’t run away to have a mad fling, but that still doesn’t mean that his disappearance has anything whatsoever to do with this break-in,” I argued.

“Those notes he made in the files that got wiped hinted that he was onto to something big.”

“Hinted?  If he was onto to something big why didn’t he just explain what it was?  Is this the U.S. Attorney’s office or the Orient Express?”

“I don’t know why!  Randall was ...
is
pretty eccentric.”

“Oh great.  So, your crazy co-worker
hints
that maybe my crazy client is planning to take over the world, one scientific article at a time, and you’re willing to threaten him with incarceration based on that?”

“I said eccentric, not crazy.  He kept ...
keeps
to himself a lot, plays his cards close to the vest while preparing a case.  He’s not unstable though. If he thought there was something big connected to this, then there very likely was.”

“Okay, well Trog, uh, Mr. Collins, is like that too, eccentric I mean, but harmless. If there really is something bigger connected to this, then he was just a pawn in it.  You have to believe me, while he would make a great patsy, a criminal mastermind, not so much.”

Sachs seemed to contemplate what I had said carefully. He got thoughtful look on his face, leaned back in his chair and rocked for a bit as making up his mind.

“You wanted to know about the comments in the chat room. First of all, it was an online group associated with the TechNation website. Deon Flux was a new member there and hasn’t been back. ”

He had apparently decided that he was going to give me the information he had withheld from Dana and Lena. I guess that third time was a charm. Or else maybe he knew that I had the least experience with this type of case. He did say “his sources” had filled him in, so he had been learning more about us. Dana was the computer crime expert but Lena had handled white-collar criminal cases in general.  I was mostly the civil rights lawyer of our practice. Was I the weakest link?

“Did Deon name him specifically in connection the break-in?”

“Yes. Does your client know this person?”

Did I admit that Trog had a connection to his little Ramen Noodle eating friend? I weighed my options carefully, and decided that if Sachs were going to show me good faith, then I would do the same.  My gut told me that he wasn’t really after Trog anyway.

“Yes. According to Trog, she’s a college student here in Philadelphia somewhere.”

“He’s met her in person?”

“No, I don’t think so.  So, I guess he really doesn’t know for sure, but that’s what she told him. She put him up to making this particular political statement. That DNA article he downloaded was a gift for her for some paper she has to write.”

“That agrees with what she said online, that Kevin Collins hacked DocuKeep to protest companies ‘holding knowledge captive,’ or some rhetoric like that.”

“Well, so then it confirms that there was nothing more to it,” I pointed out.

“But doesn’t it seem a little odd to you?” he asked pointedly.

“It does seem kind of weird,” I admitted, considering it more. “Why did she brag about the break-in
before
he managed to download the files?”

“And she used his real name. Not to mention that this TechNation, a major mainstream group for IT specialists and computer geeks, not some top secret hacker cabal on the Dark Web,” he added.

“She was making sure that it was common knowledge that he was responsible.”

“She was setting him up,” Sachs agreed. “You were right. He’s a patsy.”

“But why?” I asked, shaking my head with confusion.

“Because I was right too.  There’s something bigger going on.”

“Okay, then she’s the one who you want, not Trog.”

“So it would appear,” he answered, loosening his tie. Incidentally, let me note that he looked very good undressing. I wanted to undress too.

“So you’re not going press charges against him?” I asked, trying to stay completely focused on the goal of protecting my wacky client.

“Not if he cooperates.”

“What do you mean cooperates?”

“I mean that I want him to help me track his friend Deon.”

“Don’t you think that the chances are pretty good that she’s just told him a pack of lies about herself? That’s provided that she is even really a ‘she’ at all. I mean, for all we know Deon Flux might look like Deion Sanders.”

“Still, he’s the only one with a connection to her. If he works with me, this can all go away for him. Even if he can’t help that much, it’s the effort that counts.”

“And so you’re going threaten a man with jail to get him to help you, even if he can’t do very much for you, and even though you know that his offense was minor?”

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