The Paranoid Thief (21 page)

“But they can’t know everything about you,
or you would’ve been caught long ago.”

“True, but he knows enough. I may be able
to circumvent all kinds of electrical components and dig my way into software programs,
but there’s one factor I can’t work around, and that’s old fashioned bodyguards
and roaming patrols.”

“But I thought you didn’t have to get into
his home or office to do your thing?” Jill put her plate on a pillow and
adjusted the covers, to the disappointment of his eyes.

Briefly he considered upping the
temperature to encourage the removal of such obstacles to his viewing pleasure;
even if he couldn’t physically enjoy her body right now, he could at least
enjoy looking while they talked. Shrugging that thought aside, Randolph
stretched his legs to work out some kinks. “In most cases
that’s
true, but Mr. Hilden is a professional, the proverbial silent partner, who can
pull the strings so no attachments can leave physical traces to his handiwork.
Such a man would only have damaging evidence in his personal computer which I
can guaranty is unplugged to the world at large. And as a home is much easier
to guard against intrusions then a public building, everything I’d need would
be safely hidden deep in the hornets’ nest.”

Jill propped her elbows on her knees to
rest her chin on her hands and asked, “If this is so, considering you’re an
unwelcome security risk, how safe would it be for us to simply get lost?”

Randolph sighed with regret, and put his
hands behind his head considering Jill’s perfectly logical suggestion, putting
himself into Mr. Hilden’s shoes.
“Not very.
Being a
personality needing power, his insecurities would conclude rightly I’d show up
sooner or later and become an inconvenience. Thusly I know he’d have a large
reward already posted for my death to insure I kept on the run.”

“That won’t do,” Jill said with such
finality in her voice Randolph turned his head to look at her closely. “If
we’re to have a life and family we can’t be looking over our shoulders fearing
a laser shot to the back of the head. I’ll have to take him out first.”

“Jill, you know my feeling about such an
act. Besides, even if you did, the credits for my disposal will still be
enforced.”

“How do you know that?” Jill asked, waving
a hand in the air.

Randolph turned on the computer and typed
in a simple question, “Who are the walking dead?” In seconds, a list of names
and videos appeared in alphabetical order. Scrolling down to one with his
likeness, he hit enter and allowed Jill to see what he meant. “As you can see,
in case of his untimely death, funds will be allocated from the dispensation of
his holding to insure I and the one who killed him will not live to enjoy his
retirement.” Randolph scrolled down a bit more to a detailed description of
himself
and pointed out, “And it appears he’s already gained
some information on you as a second target. Thus, he’s covering all the bases.”

“Well, what can we do?” Jill asked,
slouching to this news.

“That I haven’t figured out yet.” Musing
aloud, he concluded, “To remove our problem, Mr. Hilden has to become
credit-less. To do so thoroughly, I have to walk into the hornet nest and spend
some quality time with his files.”

Now that Jill had reawakened his thinking
process, Randolph spent the next two days working over plausible paths to Mr.
Hilden’s computer, ignoring Jill in his adventure, stressing to Jill’s softer
side he needed the time alone to muddle out their problem.

On the third day, when a plausible plan
took shape, Jill took his idea with extra enthusiasm, throwing him down on the
bed and taking him like a man would a woman, not understanding Randolph was
still in the developmental stage of his plan and therefore prone to tune out
surrounding activity till he hashed it out—

“
Ow
! What was
that for?” Randolph exclaimed, rubbing his cheek as she glared down on him with
her hand readied to land another hard slap.

“If I’m going to make love to you, you damn
well better be paying attention!” Jill angrily said, dismounting and donning
her robe before sitting at the table.

“How’d you know I wasn’t?” Randolph asked,
sitting up, closing up his own robe least she decided to take out her wrath on
his two boys too.

“Because I could feel you softening up at
the very point I needed you to be otherwise,” Jill growled, reaching into the
cooler and extracting a beer. “Just because I’m not the one in love with you,
doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like you showing me a little affection too.”

“Look, Jill, I’m sorry,” Randolph tried as
she downed half the bottle.

“Yeah, sure, don’t mind
me,
I’m tough as nails, so why should you waste any affection on me?”

“Jill, please, it’s not like that. I’ve
details to work out and an inspiration hit me in the midst of what we were
doing, that’s all. Once I had it securely implanted in my mind I would have
been back with all the lust any man has in the midst of sexual pleasure.”

Jill downed another quarter and ignored him
with a huff of disbelief. Sighing, Randolph got up and pulled one out for
himself
. “Whether it was you or your softer side out
wouldn’t have made any difference at that moment, but if you need reassuring,
I’ll, uh…um…make it up to you somehow.” He snapped off the top, and took a
swig, deciding to drop the subject. “As it appears I can’t convince you just
now, do you mind moving so I can follow up with my idea—
owww
—!”
Randolph moaned, dropping the bottle and grabbing her hand, which had moved
with speed under his gaping robe.

Jill squeezed his nuts, using her finger
nails to dig even deeper. “This is how I feel right now, and instead of being
reassuring, you push me aside. Well I’ve news for you, Jack-O, I’m just as much
a woman as she is, with all the emotions and sensitivity she has. So I’d
suggest you think of them the next time we’re involved or I guaranty you’ll be
missing these useless things.” Jill gave his nuts one more crushing squeeze
before she got up and shoved him out of her way.

Randolph folded up around himself on the
floor. Curled up for a time, Randolph wondered if Jill was really worth the
trouble, but while he was running over those thoughts, gentle hands touched his
shoulders, causing him to flinch out of reflex.

“Oh, John, I’m so, so sorry. Here let me
help you up.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather you get away
from me for a while.”

“But, John, I didn’t do this—I could never
hurt you so callously.”

“I don’t care which one you are, just get
the hell back!” Randolph snapped.

She scooted away. “John, please…” Jill
sniffed, making him feel like a heel, knowing which Jill he was snapping at.

Using the bed as support in sitting up,
Randolph saw Jill standing some feet away, tears rolling down her cheeks,
looking for
all the
world as if he’d slapped her hard.
And in a way I guess I had.
Not
liking the way he felt, Randolph relented and waved her over to aid him up into
the chair.

“Can I get you anything?
A
cold pack, perhaps?”

“No thanks, just give me some room to work,
okay?”

“Yes,
love
,
anything you want, just ask.”

While Randolph reset his security codes to
begin his search for the perfect candidate to get the ball rolling, Jill
cleaned up the mess on the floor and opened another bottle for him before settling
on the bed, picking up a magazine pretending to keep
herself
occupied as he worked.

To find the right person involved a lot of
research, for Randolph knew they couldn’t just go to anyone with greed standing
on his or her shoulders. No, the perfect candidate had to have clout and be
willing to strike lasting bargains, so when he came across Mr. Sterling’s
profile,
Randolph knew he had their man. So he dug out their
Scandinavian passports, typed up an irresistible letter, and sent it to Mr.
Sterling’s office. With that out of the way, he started in on the Jamaican
boss’s bank account, though he knew by now it should be emptied by the state or
his partners.
But then again, one never
knows.
As he began the process, the table moved under his fingers. Looking
for the cause, Randolph saw Jill had planted her robe-covered butt on the
table. As she hadn’t slapped him to gain his attention, Randolph looked up past
crossed arms and a set chin below watching eyes, looking as if she had a bad
taste in her mouth.

“Randolph, I’m sorry. I should not have
done that to you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he remarked,
turning back to the screen, typing to let loose the dogs of inquiry and leeches
of passwords.

She sighed. “You’re not about to make this
easy for me, are you?”

“Why should I? Anytime you get mad, I get
hurt.”

Jill stayed quiet for a bit; he imagined
she was searching her thoughts, trying to come up with some rational reason for
her disposition, then must have concluded there was none. “Come on, it’s three
in the morning. How about coming to bed?”

Randolph glanced at the time, having lost
track of it,
then
shrugged.
“Maybe
later.
I’m busy right now.”

“In other words, you’re still mad and you’d
rather sleep with her than me.”

Randolph leaned back in his chair and
sighed before he tried to explain. “Look, Jill, this has nothing to do with you
or her. Whenever I’m on a job, I’m like this. I lose track of time, I don’t
eat, I don’t sleep, I don’t do much of anything till I’ve accomplished what I
set out to do, or barring that, I work to a point I’m comfortable in leaving it
for a time.” After that admission, Randolph guessed Jill chewed on that for a
minute or so before concluding he wasn’t lying, for she nodded and left for the
bathroom. Regardless of what she did next, Randolph stayed at the computer till
the yawns became too frustrating. At which point, rubbing his face and feeling
the stubble, he stretched tired arms and
legs, noting it was
eight in the morning. Shutting down his work, he stretched his stiff legs in a
walk to the bathroom for a hot shower and shave before heading to bed.

Their flight out to the frozen lakes was
miraculously uneventful, even with the price on their heads by Mr. Hilden and
nearly all law agencies, proving good makeup and body-adjusting clothes made a
world of difference while one was surrounded by rush hour crowds. As for
getting in the building to see the
senator, that
took
far more elaborate measures; retina-changing eye-wear, finger-print altering
skin grafts, and other basic changes, all compliments of the Jamaica's bank
account, which Randolph was delighted to find still intact. A rather blessed
windfall, considering the amount of the bribe he had to render to the physician
for the specialty items to secure the changes for the pair of them without
having to worry about being handed over to Mr. Hilden or the authorities.

Seated in Mr. Sterling’s outer office under
the eyes of his competent secretary after an hour of security clearance, Jill
looked lovely next to Randolph in her long-sleeved, ankle-length blue and green
dress, high heel wrap-around shoes of black, and a thousand-credit
finely-crafted sterling silver chain necklace and jewel-encrusted green hand
bag.

Randolph leaned close to her stylish hair,
which still held a whiff of pleasurable perfume and whispered into her ear,
knowing full well the directional microphone on the secretary’s desk would pick
him up,

“Now, dear sister, let me do all the
talking—the senator is a very busy man, and we mustn’t confuse the issue with
the pair of us talking.” Jill nodded her acceptance as they’d discussed before
entering the building, whereby Randolph sat back comfortably in his chair
wearing a middle-priced suit of black, the standard suit for up-and-coming
managers and business secretaries of low rank, chosen specifically to give off
the impression they held no threat to Mr. Sterling’s growing empire.

“Mr. and Mrs.
Jurlkus
,
the senator will see you know.” The secretary messed up their relationship,
likely to gain any new reactions to add to their growing file on her computer.

To her bait, Jill corrected the secretary
in the high-and-mighty-style voice she’d been practicing all morning. “That’s
Miss
Jurlkus
, and I’ll ask you to correct that in
your records now,” Jill indicated, with a strong emphases on the now part.

“Beg pardon, Miss
Jurlkus
,
I’ll see to it immediately,” the woman said as Jill straightened out her dress
and stood by Randolph. The secretary pretended to do the changes but was more
likely typing up Jill’s mannerisms before the door to Mr. Sterling office swung
open for their convenience.

The senator’s outer office, like that of
most politicians, was smartly decorated; white walls and pleasing scenic
painting, comfortable couches and end tables doubling as drink centers to invite
leisure talk, which might come in handy when dealing with his guests or other
matters he might wish to invest his time in. His office had been decorated to
his own tastes of mostly modern furniture, easy on the eyes natural lighting
provided by strategically placed amplifier/reflectors, and very expensive cedar
paneling about the walls.

Mr. Sterling stood behind his
finely-polished desk of enriched etched glass and offered up his hand in a
friendly gesture most politicos advocate in a first meeting.
“Mr.
and Miss
Jurlkus
, what a pleasure it is to meet you.
Please, make yourselves comfortable. Would you like a drink or muffin?”

“You’re very kind, Senator, and thank you.
I believe my sister and I would like a chilled bottle of water by
Cornelus
Lake, if you have any?”

“A very good choice.”
Mr. Sterling smiled; his guest had done some homework on his holding, meaning
they weren’t merely part of the crowd but an integral ingredient that helped
inaugurate change in the system. The senator had his secretary deliver the
water personally to help placate Jill’s act of irritation, then shooed her out
to close the door for better privacy.

“Now then, I must say I’m very intrigued by
your letter, Mr.
Jurklus
. Although you remained
purposely vague on details, I’m in hopes we can come to a mutual agreement so I
may possess the full knowledge of this incident you say was not in truth an
accident, but an orchestrated murder of our gallant men and women in the
service.”

“That is our firm wish too, Senator. As
journalists, we sometimes come across illicit matters such as this deplorable
act which are swept under the rug or ignored entirely. Although never of this
magnitude, still, our work can be damaging to reputations of companies and/or
business men.”

“I see. So to gain this particular tale,
with documented proof, you both wish protection in my great county?”

“With certain concessions, so we may keep
providing the public with the truth, while not forgetting exceptional materials
we feel you would be interested in, to better serve the man who would be in
truth our benefactor.” Randolph meant they could be of mutual help to one
another.

The senator sat with his arms resting on
the glass and his fingers interlaced, pondering the obvious implication of
Randolph’s offer, whereby Randolph saw the instant he had the senator hooked.
Once Mr. Sterling’s word of support and hand written agreement on the terms of
his help were attained, Randolph presented public documents on the events
leading up to and after the murder of Jill’s squadron, including documentation
on her sworn testimony at her court-martial, which until Randolph found them,
had been hidden in the bureaucracy of double talk and misfiled information.
Randolph handed over everything relevant, including names, ranks, dates and
places, and saw the senator’s eyes alight with possibilities as his fingers
shuffled the papers with glee. The last two sheets Randolph pulled out of his
case were the names of the entire unit, their next of kin, and exactly where
he’d found all the lost files of the incident to better illustrate the cover
up.

When at last the pair exited the building,
Jill emitted an audible sigh. “So that’s all there was to it? All I had to do
was hand over those sheets of paper and all those involved would have been
prosecuted?”

“In truth, no,” Randolph eyed her, deciding
they deserved an expensive meal. “Had you done what I just did, it would have
been swept into a drawer of I.O.U’s, then held till a day he needed them to
save his butt or put someone higher-up under his thumb.”

“So you’re telling me we just used my men
to gain us a reprieve on a
miner
infraction of the
law?” Jill puffed herself up, preparing to make a scene in the middle of a
public walkway—not a good thing considering they were still wanted.

But before Jill went ballistic, Randolph
grabbed her arm, got into her face and hissed, “You know me better than that.
Now drop the attitude and I’ll explain.” When it looked as if she had settled,
Randolph enlightened Jill’s naiveté. “As you know, this is the information
age—whoever holds the most information wins. Any and all transactions revolve
around this one goal. Had you gone in with this information alone, nothing
would have happened save when it benefited Mr. Sterling. However, I informed
Mr. Sterling if he followed through on this matter I’d supply him with dirt on
people he would like to have under his thumb.”

“But I didn’t hear you say that.”

“That’s because you’ve been trained to
react to a situation without really listening, while I’ve learned the hard way
information is the true gold of our age.”

Jill thought this over before asking, “So
when will he act on my case?”

“Just as soon as I, uh, we make good on my
promise.”

“And just how do we go about that?”

Randolph turned her into the Ah La Palette
restaurant, and watched the entrance through reflected glass and mirrors, or
any surface offering a reflection till they were seated where he could keep his
eyes on it directly. “I’m in hopes Mr. Hilden’s files will have some tempting
offerings. If not, all I need do is see who’s infringing on Senator Sterling’s
holdings and acquire some leverage he can use.”

“I thought you only went after the guilty?”
Jill whispered across the table.

“At his level no one’s an innocent, as you
so eloquently pointed out, but so you understand, I have my own levels of
innocent and those who surpass those levels will be targeted.” Randolph took
note of their waiter approaching, and waved Jill silent to concentrate on the
meal and the two men who walked in a minute after they’d arrived. He then took
note of all other dinners, and made certain he and Jill enjoyed a full-rounded
meal, taking two hours to see the change in faces, noting dinner selections and
what drinks were served. This then identified the two men he was watching were
not here for the ambiance of the establishment, and to his pleasant surprise,
Jill informed him so.

“We’re being followed,” she announced
softly as she dabbed a napkin to her lips.

“So you’ve noticed?”

“How could I not? They were so obvious when
we walked out of the elevator in the Senator’s building. I was just wondering
if you’d seen them and therefore chose this place for verifying they were
indeed on our trail.”

“In point of fact, no.
I choose this place because we deserved it.”

Jill took some surprise in this and giving
Randolph a smile, her eyes softened and she said, “Thank you, the luncheon was
quite spectacular. I’ve never been so treated in my life.”

“You’re quite welcome. Now, have you any
ideas how to lose those two without going through the kitchen?”