Paper Trail - 2. Chapter 2

Mr. Alterson's secretary looked how she sounded. Cool, professional, a dark blue tailored pants suit was paired with a snazzy pair of dress shoes. Her hair was short but styled in carefully crafted waves showing her face with its subtle and sophisticated make-up. Her expression was welcoming when she stood up to usher me into the plush outer office. The nameplate on the desk said Miss Daschel.

“Good morning, Mr. Verset. I trust you had a comfortable ride over?” She said her voice smooth. Definitely the woman I had talked to on the phone.

“Yes. It was fine.” I answered.

“Could I get you a drink? A latte, tea or soda?” She offered.

“No, thank you. I would appreciate some water though, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh no, it’s no trouble at all.” She assured me.

She sat down in her chair and opened up what looked like a bank of drawers in the ornate desk she was sitting behind. One side was a small refrigerator apparently. She pulled out a bottle of mineral water and handed it to me with a smile. “Mr. Alterson is just finishing up a phone call, if you care to take a seat he will be out shortly.”

I nodded, resigned to the fact that I was not going to get any information before I spoke to the man himself. I had been right by the way; the man was definitely a big fish. The large metal and glass building was imposing when viewed from the sidewalk and the lobby was marble and shiny chrome, very high end. I didn't recognize the name of the corporation, Nicane Technologies, either. Couldn't be an electronic technology firm, I knew all of those in the city. Ah well, waiting gave me time to think about Marc.

I knew I was sitting in the chair with a silly smile on my face, the memory of cuddling with him last night running through my mind. I tried to tone it down a little, opening the bottle of water and taking a small drink. It was only a moment later the phone buzzed and Miss Daschel picked it up.

“Yes, Mr. Alterson. Of course, sir, right away.” She hung up the phone and then stood. “Mr. Alterson will see you now.” She came around her desk and ushered me to the double doors that loomed behind her desk, opening the door. I stepped in and the door closed behind me with her on the other side.

Mr. Alterson was a tall man; he was standing up in front of a large black polished desk when I walked in the door. He was at least my height, a shade over six feet and dressed in an expensive suit that most likely cost more than my car. His face was impassive but his eyes raked over my body in a judging manner. I was suddenly glad that I had changed into a more business casual dress.

“Mr. Verset?” His voice was deep, matching the large chest under the crisp white shirt and suit jacket.

“Yes. Nathaniel Verset.” I introduced myself as I walked in the room and offered him my hand. “Your secretary said you had a case to discuss with me.” He offered me a seat, settling into his leather chair behind his desk and making a steeple with his fingers.

“That depends. I require strict confidentiality in this case. You'll understand when I explain it to you but this is a very delicate matter.” He said.

“If you have been recommended by a client you must have been assured that I am an experienced professional. I have been privy to trade secrets, sensitive personal information, all without telling anyone who wasn't authorized or involved in the case. You can trust my reputation.” I said confidently. I wasn't arrogant but I knew I had the rep to back up my words; I was fast, discreet and dedicated to the each case that I decided to take.

He nodded. “I have heard that. But this is...” Mr. Alterson trailed off, an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Look, Mr. Alterson, I understand that this is serious, otherwise you would not have called me. But I cannot help you if you don't trust me with what is going on. You have to make that decision.” I laid it on the line, aware that a lot of people found using my services to be upsetting for many reasons. But I would not waste my entire day while he hemmed and hawed his way into a decision.

His face cleared at my words and he squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath. “You're right. It's just... what I have to tell you is very upsetting, personally and professionally.” I nodded. “It's somewhat of a mystery to tell you the truth. One night I was working late alone here in the office as Miss Daschel had already gone home. I received this cryptic email on my computer. It said 'I know what you are doing and you must be stopped.' and that was it. I tried replying, thinking someone was being smart and playing some sort of a prank on me but the message came back undeliverable. The next morning when I came in I had another email.”

“And this one said?” I prompted when he paused.

“Nothing, actually. It was the attachments that were cause for concern. There were several memos, all with my signature, intimating that I was involved in some sort of conspiracy to milk money out of farmers in the Sudan.” My confused expression must have tipped him off to how utterly absurd that sounded. It simply made no sense. He went on to explain.

“Our company, Nicane Technologies is heavily invested in genetically engineered food research. One of our most successful developments was a hardy millet seed that requires two thirds less water to grow than regular seeds need. The drought going on in the Sahel region of Africa, particularly the Sudan, has been especially damaging to the traditionally nomadic tribes and they have had to switch their lifestyle over to one of farming. But the lack of rain was causing their crops to produce low yields or fail completely.”

“As part of our company’s outreach program we have been contracted by the USDA to provide the Foreign Aid Service Food for Peace program with our millet at low or no cost to the Sudanese government. It has helped combat the starvation that is so rife in the Sahel region.”

Okay, I understood what how a US company could be involved in farmers in Africa now. “But how exactly are you defrauding them?”

“The memos say that our company has been aware that our millet is much less resistant to failure by insect depredation than the regular seed. Unfortunately, locusts are rife in the Sahel so the farmers must use pesticide to combat the problem. The accusation is that we are knowingly providing the genetically engineered millet so that the farmers will be forced to buy over-priced pesticide from a local company that is actually owned by Nicane Tech.”

I blinked. That was a serious accusation. Not only is it fraud but such a problem with their millet could be severely damaging to the GE side of the business. “You somehow sound as if this isn't the worst part.”

“It's not. This person alleged that the pesticide is actually harming the soil, making it more difficult to grow the millet, causing crops to begin to fail more rapidly even with fallow harvesting. In order to keep the soil from degrading they have to purchase fertilizer and other additional crops from local companies. Most of the larger purchases are made from another Nicane subsidiary.”

I wanted to whistle when I heard that, this was big! I managed to restrain myself but barely. “So the accusations specifically say you personally are doing what?”

“That I, being in charge of the contract to the government, am the spearhead of this whole conspiracy, reaping in profits and bonuses from the added business. That the whole thing is my idea.”

“What kind of money are we talking about? Thousands? Hundreds of thousands?” I needed to know how serious this all was.

“Millions, if such a thing were true.” He said deadpan.

This time all I could do was blink. I had never had a case that involved such a huge amount of money. It had me flabbergasted for a moment. Finally I spoke quietly, “That the company is making or you?”

“Me.” he said equally quiet. I was dumbstruck but tried not to show it, just nodding.

“Okay, so what exactly is it that you are looking for me to do?” I asked.

“I need someone to find out who sent me these messages and left this folder on my desk.” He tapped the manila folder in front of him, leaning forward. “It's personal, it's not just the company, this person is after me. I want to find out what is going on and why I am being targeted.” He was intense, his eyes locked on my face.

“Why not go to the police?” I wanted to know.

“If news gets out about this, it will damage the company. We have to know who is doing this so that we can find out why they are making these accusations and where they got this alleged 'proof', before we go to the police or this gets made public. Anything else would damage our contracts and bottom line; I can't allow that on my watch.” Mr. Alterson said, his sincerity oozing out with every word.

I nodded. “I can understand that. So, just tracking this electronically and finding the source of the data? That’s all you need me to do?”

“Just the source. We will call in the detectives to investigate the perpetrator when you give us a name. That's all we need. I can authorize an upfront payment of five thousand dollars with another five thousand after they are apprehended.” Mr. Alterson leaned back in his chair, watching my face when he named his price. I raised my eyebrow and nodded but didn’t negotiate.

“I'll need access to the company system, complete access.” I informed him.

“I'm sorry, I can't do that. We have too many projects ongoing that are highly confidential, even above my clearance. I can get you access to all the employee files, the memo and email files, and usage logs but you can't have access to the actual data storage areas.”

I nodded. “I can probably work with that. I also need copies of all the documents that you received in that file folder. Certain details might lead me to a certain terminal or printer or copier used within the building, narrowing my search. Exactly how many employees do you have here?”

“Roughly four thousand five hundred and some odd staff total. Perhaps seven hundred or so are auxiliary staff, the rest are all technical. Maybe two thousand with access high enough to be digging into our foreign aid programs and genetic engineering division.”

“That's a lot of people to exclude. It will probably take me a few days.” I had the feeling that displeased him but he hid it well. His face showed a bit of anxiety but not nearly enough for what I felt from him.

“I was hoping for sooner than that but I know that you will work as quickly as possible, Mr. Verset.” He said, clenching his jaw a bit.

“I will.” I assured him.

Mr. Alterson stood up, indicating that our little interview was over. He pressed a button on his phone. “Miss Daschel, if you would please join us.”

“Right away, Mr. Alterson.”

Miss Daschel opened the door just a few seconds later, still smoothing her jacket. “Yes, Mr. Alterson?”

“Please make copies of this file and authorize a check for five thousand dollars out of petty cash for Mr. Verset. Also assist him with anything else he needs for this investigation.” He directed.

“Yes, Mr. Alterson.” She came forward and took the file. “Your twelve o'clock teleconference call is ready in the conference room whenever you are and your lunch from Tominago will be delivered at one p.m.” He gave a sharp nod, picking up another file from his desk.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Verset.” Mr. Alterson said, “I look forward to hearing from you with the results of your research.” He shook my hand, his grip just a little bit tight.

“My pleasure, Mr. Alterson. I will get back to you as soon as possible.” I said. I turned toward Miss Daschel.

“If you would please follow me?” she ushered me out the door and toward her desk. This time she directed me to sit in the chair to one side where we could speak more closely. She sat down, offering me another drink. I declined, eager to get down to business and get home to look over the files.

Picking up the phone, there was a pause while she waited for someone to answer the extension she dialed. “Mr. Lons, please cut a check made out to Nathaniel Verset, V-E-R-S-E-T, that's right. In the amount of five thousand please.” There was a pause, “Yes please, just have it waiting with security at the front desk so Mr. Verset can pick it up.” She hit receiver button really fast then dialed a new extension.

“Sally, do you think you could come up here please? I have some sensitive documents that need to be copied. Great, thanks.” She hung up the phone this time, looking at me with a smile. “Now that all of that is taken care of, what else can I do for you?”

I handed her a data stick out of my computer bag. “I'd like a copy of your personnel records, computer usage reports and email logs to start off with. With those and the file I can get started. I will most likely have to come back tomorrow or the next day to do some more research.”

“Okay, that will take a little time. Ahh, Sally, thank you for coming. Please make a copy of everything in this file for me.” The small woman who came into the office was very quiet, dressed in a pale gray wool skirt and jacket over a pale pink dress shirt. Even her voice was soft, low and smooth as velvet.

“Of course, Miss Daschel. It is no problem at all.” Her small hands were neat, pearly nails completing the feminine look. She barely glanced at me, just taking the file and leaving as silently as she came in. Hmm... It made me wonder.

“Is it okay to trust her with that file? Mr. Alterson made it sound as if it held some pretty incriminating documents.” I didn't mean to criticize but if I was to find the accuser before the scandal broke the fewer people in the know the better.

“Oh yes. Sally is Mr. Alterson's sister. She has been working for him since she was eighteen.”

“She seems quite a bit younger than him to be siblings.” I couldn't help but notice the disparity in their ages. Mr. Alterson looked to be in his early fifties, a trim early fifties but certainly middle aged. The timid young woman who had just left the office couldn't be over twenty two, twenty three at the most.

“A late in life baby, I guess. I know their parents are quite elderly and live out of state. Florida, I believe.” Miss Daschel confided. “Anyway, she was in the office with Mr. Alterson when he found the documents so she is already aware of the entire situation. She would never tell another soul.”

“So as far as you know, there are only four people here in the company who know about the emails and the document file?” I asked.

“Four?” she repeated confused.

“Mr. Alterson, Sally, yourself and the accuser of course.” I said.

“Oh...” she tittered, “silly me! Yes, of course.”

“Hmm... okay. Well it might be helpful to actually have someone else who knows that can help me. What exactly does Sally do within the company?”

“Well, she's primarily the liaison between the department heads and Mr. Alterson. She also helps me keep his schedule; perform general office duties that he requests and things like that. Her office is just down the hall.”

“I see. She can definitely be helpful then. Wonderful.” I smiled at her, indicating the downloading employee files, “How are we doing?”

“About halfway done, is there something else I can do for you while we wait?”

“Well, can you tell me who has access to Mr. Alterson's office after hours?”

“Oh, anyone in the company actually.” Miss Daschel said blithely.

I was a bit incredulous of his lax security, “He leaves his office unlocked?”

“Of course. All the sensitive files are locked up in the file cabinets each night and he takes his laptop home with him. The cleaning crew comes in each night but other than them no one is typically around during the night or early morning hours.”

“Mr. Alterson typically stays late in the evening?” I was writing down notes in a notepad I had also pulled out of my laptop case, sometimes hard copies of things helped me keep more detailed computer records for later. Plus it just helped me think.

“Oh, off and on. If we have an important deadline or a new trial commencing, big events like that. He is a very busy man.” Miss Daschel's fingers were flying over the keyboard now, opening files and documents at a rapid rate. “There we go.” She pulled the stick out of the computer then handed it to me with a small smile.

“I have just a few more questions.” I said.

“Not a problem. Ask away!” she said in a bright and cheery tone.

“I noticed that the employees all wear badges when I came in. Do they electronically track the whereabouts of each staff member? What about computer or elevator access?”

“No. Unfortunately they are simply identification.”

“You might consider changing that.” I suggested, “What about cameras?”

“Only in the elevators and the lobby, parking garages and loading docks. The sensitive nature of most of the research Nicane Technologies performs is simply too confidential to risk that anyone might hack or access the video footage from the labs or offices.”

“So whoever dropped off those documents simply had to use the stairs to avoid the cameras?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” She said.

“You might want to consider changing that as well, at least having a camera that would pick up the identity of anyone who enters or leaves the access doors to each floor.”

“Mr. Alterson has already had me send a memo to headquarters requesting permission to do just that.”

“Good. Not that it will help us on this case but it might prevent you from having to contact me again in the future.” Miss Daschel smiled at me, and then turned to the door when Sally entered holding two identical files. I stood up, smiling at the small woman.

“Oh, Sally, that was fast! Thank you so much.” She said, standing up to take the files that Sally offered. “I'd like to introduce Mr. Verset; he is handling the case of finding the identity of whoever has made these horrible accusations against your Mr. Alterson.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Verset.” She held out her hand which I shook gently, almost afraid to close my fingers over the dainty palm. “I really hope you will be able to help Saul. He has been most upset over the accusations against him.” She sort of glanced out of the corner of her eyes as she spoke but didn't make direct eye contact even after she took her hand back from me, clasping them together in front of her.

“Nat, please. I was just telling Miss Daschel that you might be able to help me. I'm probably going to need to meet with some of the employees and I thought you might be able to introduce me to them without revealing who I really am.”

“Of course, Mr. Ver... sorry, Nat, I mean.” She replied with a little smile.

“Thanks. It will make it a lot easier to have someone who can point me in the right direction and provide that bridge. It causes less suspicion, encourages people to talk more. I really appreciate your willingness to help.” I placed the copied files and the data stick in my case then thanked the two women again.

“I'll have the car meet you out front. Please, let me know if you need anything else.” Miss Daschel said.

“I will. I should have some preliminary thoughts in a day or two. I'll be in touch.” I said.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

I got home, sitting down heavily on the couch. Man, I was tired. This job should be straightforward but something seemed off about it. I'm not sure of what exactly was bothering me but there was this niggling concern in the back of my mind. I needed to look through all the papers in the file, then look at some of the more likely suspects based on what I found. Sigh... I hated having a job that involved a lot of hard copy and file reading. Perhaps I would get lucky and be able to trace the file downloads or something. Corporate criminals were actually less sneaky than most hardened petty criminals. White collar breeds stupidity sometimes, not smarts.

First, I needed lunch. Normally I would have eaten a little something a few hours after I got up and had had time to finish a few cups of coffee but I had been too keyed up waiting for the car to take me to my new client. Now I was starving. I put my case off to the side of the couch, intending to get to it directly after lunch.

I grabbed a few things out of the fridge; some butter, smoked gruyere cheese slices and a fresh tomato. A grilled tomato and cheese on twelve grain bread sounded like just the thing to tame the hungry beast in my raging stomach. I had just finishing toasting the sandwich when I heard a knock on my front door. I flipped the sandwich onto a plate but left the stove on. I'd only be a minute.

Wiping my hands on the blue dish towel slung across my shoulder I peeked through the peephole to see Marc standing there running his hand through his hair, looking good enough to eat. Ahh, there I go again with the food analogies. I really was going to have to eat soon or I just might take a bite out of Marc.

That thought had me blushing as I opened the door to greet Marc. Instead of the warm hug I typically got I was treated to a kiss so carnal it should have been illegal to perform in sight of the public; indecent exposure at least. I moaned, nibbling at his bottom lip, sucking his tongue into my mouth, following it back into his mouth to curl around and taste that flavor that was uniquely Marc.

“Mmm” I whimpered, tucking my head into his neck. I kissed him and sucked lightly, nibbling my way up to the underside of his jaw, little bites and sucks making him shiver. My stomach picked that exact moment to snarl, making me laugh a bit. “Hungry?” I asked him when I pulled away a little.

“Oh yeah.” he purred, kissing me again.

“I meant for real food.” I said, grinning when he paused for air, “I haven't eaten yet and I'm starving. I just made a grilled tomato and cheese sandwich, would you like one?” I offered.

“Hmm... choices, choices. What to do?” he considered. “I know; I'll have the sandwich for lunch and a little Nat for dessert.” Marc winked at me, leering slightly.

I blinked; “Uhhh... umm... O.K.” I was flabbergasted at the change in him, but decided I liked this naughtier Marc. I couldn't wait to see what he was planning for after lunch. I whipped up another sandwich and then we sat down at the table and ate silently. It was a happy silence, quiet and companionable, neither of us feeling the need to fill the time with casual conversation. Every time our eyes met we smiled, both happy to be there I guess.

I wiped my face on a napkin; settling it down on my plate when I was done. One last sip of my soda and I sat back in my chair, completely sated. “Hmm, I could take a nap.”

“We'll see about that!” said Marc mischievously, getting up from his chair. He had finished a few minutes earlier and had sat and stared at me, watching me avidly as I savored the last few bites of my sandwich. I'd had to look away; a bit self-conscious with the intent way he'd been watching my mouth. Oh yeah, this should be interesting.

He tugged me up out of my seat and pulled me to the bedroom and pushed me down on the bed. I stayed still, letting him take the lead. He lay down on top of me, hands and mouth everywhere. He was aggressive but gentle, using skills I didn't know he had to bring me and himself to a screaming climax. I lay sprawled out on the bed on my back for a few minutes, panting, and then curled my body around his smaller form, kissing my way from his shoulder to his neck to his mouth.

“That was amazing.” I whispered in his ear, nipping his ear lobe. I breathed in his scent; licking the sensitive spot behind his ear with a pointed tongue. He quivered, his breath leaving him in a rush. I continued to lick and nibble soft bites with my lips, back down his neck to suck on his collarbone. He moaned when I went lower.

“Oh... oh... that feels so good. Nat...” Marc mumbled his head thrashing on the pillow. By the time I was finished he was groaning incoherently, his eyes barely open as he blinked sleepily at me, drained. I grinned, a bit smugly, as I wiped my mouth then pulled the blanket over both of us to keep us warm where we lay tangled together, heads sharing the same pillow.

“Sleep, babe.”

** ** ** ** ** ** **

We both woke up a few hours later, famished again. Marc was a little shy but I just kissed him and got up, throwing on some clean jeans and a t-shirt. “C'mon,” I said, “Let's go get some subs and talk. I have a few things I could use another person’s opinion on.”

We sat in a secluded table off to one side at the sub shop, munching on our sandwiches and chips. I ate half of mine then started talking. I didn't give specifics but told Marc the gist of what Mr. Alterson wanted me to do.

“I just can't help but get this feeling that there is a lot more to this case than I'm being told. I'm not sure what is going on or what my gut is telling me but I've learned to listen to it over the years.” I said after I finished filling him in.

“Should you even take this case then?” He asked, his forehead wrinkled and his expression concerned.

“I could really use the money and the contacts if it goes well. I just... I'm not sure if it’s very smart.” I waffled. I didn't even really know what I meant but he just took my feelings at face value and gave me some encouragement.

“Look, you've said yes, you have the folder, the files and a connection at the company. Get as much information as you can and put all the pieces together before you give your report. If there is something else going on I'm sure you can find it!” He declared.

I was touched by his belief in me. I wasn't sure if I was so sanguine though. But I knew I couldn't just let this go. A big reason of why I did what I did for a living was my love of a good puzzle. Nothing brought more satisfaction than finding that final piece that connected all the dots and let everything fall into place. It was a rush, a feeling of satisfaction I wasn't willing to give up.

But I would have to be careful. This puzzle involved money, A LOT of money for my client and his company. Money, reputation and power. A very dangerous combination.