15

There were the usual and customary delays at the airport and it was not until early afternoon that I arrived back in Chicago. It was a dreary day, with a light drizzle falling during the entire cab-ride back from the airport. The humidity was oppressive. I flicked on the light switch as I stepped through the door and into my apartment. No sooner did the light come on than a sharp pain sliced through the back of my neck. The last thought that went through my head as the floor tiles rushed up to greet me was that they were very much in need of mopping.

I was unconcious before I hit the floor.

I don't know how long it was before I awoke. At first I was not sure if I was really awake or not. I willed my eye-lids open, but everything remained black. Slowly I became aware that I was indeed conscious but that the room was dark. Very dark. It is late at night, I realized. I must have been out for a long time.

A small orange bead danced in the dark before me. It had an eery glow that brightened and faded, and then brightened again as I watched. Even at its brightest it was too dim to illuminate anything. With my eyes straining to penetrate the blackness and my brain struggling to sweep away the fog in my mind, I watched the dancing orange bead. I became aware of the smell of tobacco smoke.

Of course. The orange glow was that of a burning cigarette. It was too dark to see who held it. I squinted my eyes. That made my head hurt so I stopped. The smoker must have realized that I had awakened, for he now spoke.

``I am sorry I had to hit you Mr. Raymond,'' came the easily recognized European accent and exceedingly polite manner.

``Why did you have to knock me out, Rudy?'' I asked beseechingly. What reason could there possibly be for attacking me in my own apartment?

``I was not certain it was you,'' he explained. ``I was afraid you might have been the FBI and I do not wish to speak to the FBI at this time. Indeed, I do not want the FBI to know where I am.''

Suddenly I realized that even I did not know where we were. Even in the dark I could tell we were not in my apartment. For one thing, the easy-chair in which I sat was far too firm and new.

``Where are we?'' I asked with sudden alarm.

``Someplace where the FBI cannot listen to our conversations,'' he replied. The glowing embers of the cigarette continued to bob up and down. ``This is another reason why I knocked you unconcious; I did not want you blurting out my name in your apartment. I suspect that the FBI has your apartment bugged.''

Now I was annoyed. What was he talking about? Why all the silly theatrics. Why knock me out? Rudy Levinski had become even more paranoid and cynical than me. Did he really think that my apartment was bugged? Did he really have reason to fear the FBI to such an extent? The First Chicago delaying scam was minor compared to the mill; surely he did not think that the FBI would move aggressively against Lampley. Even if the FBI did so, perhaps out of frustration over their failure to make headway on the larger case, it would be Lampley, and not Rudy, who would pay the price.

When I voiced these thoughts to Rudy his reply was quiet and level. ``They already have a warrant for my arrest Carl. They came to my apartment two days ago. I was not home at the time, but when I returned some time later I found my front door off the hinges and my personal belongings ransacked. A neighbor informed me that there were six men that entered my apartment and that they were there for about two hours.''

``Are you sure they were FBI?''

``One can never by sure, I suppose. Regardless, I do not wish to be found right now.''

The orange glow of the cigarette darted downward and then disappeared. He had rubbed it out in an ashtray by his side. With a sigh he rose from the chair in which he had been sitting. His large black shadow moved across the room. He opened the blinds on the window, allowing the moonlight to stream in. He stood and stared out of the window in silence for a moment. There was no moon, but even so I was almost sure I could see a faint reflection from his glistening forehead. He turned and leaned against the window-sill so he could face me.

``I have learned from other sources that Lampley is in custody,'' came the quiet and calm voice. ``This same source tells me that you seem to be in good standing with the FBI Carl.''

Rudy made it sound as if he was accusing me of unethical behavior. ``It was either that or face arrest myself,'' I offered. ``You know the story, I stopped at your apartment the same day I was released by the FBI,'' I reminded him.

``You did not tell me you cut a deal with them,'' came the petulent reply.

``So what if I did? I didn't implicate you in any way. We all want to see this entire matter cleared up. Helping the FBI find the real millwright will clear us all: you, me, Lisa, Lampley, everybody.''

``Why has the FBI arrested Lampley? Why do they have a warrant out for my arrest?''

I didn't know. This was news to me. Nothing that had been said in the FBI meetings I had attended indicated that Rudy or Lampley were targets of the investigation. I had spent the last 24 hours with the agent spear-heading the investigation and, while the topic of Rudy Levinski had never come up, I could not think of anything he had said or done that would indicate that he was aware that Rudy's apartment was being raided while I helped the FBI interview bank employees at Bendix. Then I remembered the manner in which the FBI had played Lisa against me. They were nice enough once one got to know them, but they could be ruthless. I would have to keep that in mind. Rudy was right; I had become quite chummy with FBI. Now I resolved not to allow myself to be lulled into complacency.

``What do you want me to do Rudy? I can put in a good word for you if you like, but I hardly think it will help. The FBI isn't that friendly with me. They are not going to call off an arrest order just because I ask them to.''

Rudy lit another cigarette before answering. He turned and sat down hard in his chair. He sucked in a breath and blew the smoke out slowly and pensively.

``I have some source code,'' he said. ``I want you to incorporate it into BIF. As you yourself said moments ago Carl, all of us will benefit from a successful outcome to the FBI's investigation. Like you, I want to help the FBI solve this case. Unlike you, I have not been invited to do so. Therefore, I will help from a distance, operating through you.''

It was not a suggestion; it was an anouncement of a decision that had already been made. I was not at all sure I liked the idea. My newfound friendship with the FBI would not last long if I began harboring suspects and allowing those same suspects to make anonymous changes to source-code under the FBI's control. What would happen to me if I inadvertantly introduced a virus into FBI computers? OK, so Rudy was not the type of person to unleash a virus... or was he? The day before I would have thought it preposterous that this bulky wimpy European that sat across from me would hide in the shadows of my apartment and strike me from behind. Did I know him as well as I thought? He had been the point-man on the First Chicago EFT-delaying scam. In our first meeting, on the lake-front, he had conceled the truth... as had I of course.

He interrupted my thoughts. ``You are wondering if you can trust me.'' His tone was not hostile. There was no hint of accusation or indignation. ``You have no choice Carl,'' he continued softly. ``We need to help each other, remember? The situation has not changed as much as you may think. Both you and I have contributed to this problem. You can claim that your intentions were honorable --- and I will agree --- but the fact remains that you are guilty of tampering with financial banking transactions. Perhaps the FBI has chosen not to press charges at this time... but that is a decision that can be reversed very quickly should you fall out of favor.''

He sighed softly. ``As for me, I seem to have fallen out of favor already, but you are in a position to further our cause. I have written several new routines for BIF. I believe they will allow us to specify profiling rules that take into account international transfers. I think we should broaden our investigation.

His paused to take a hankerchief out of his pocket and wipe his forehead. He removed his glasses and sighed gently. Speaking softly while wiping the lenses of his glasses, he said, ``you can check the source-code before you install it, Carl. Don't install the changes if you feel they will cause trouble. Or take credit for them yourself if you wish. Just install them.''

With some effort Rudy pulled himself out the chair and walked across the room. He gently tossed a floppy disk into my lap. I stared at it. Could I trust him? What harm could it do to accept his changes. It seemed too far-fetched even to me to think that he might try to introduce a virus. No, he probably was being honest; he needs to clear his name and the best way to do that is to help further the investigation. I picked the disk up and absently fanned my face with it. The air was muggy. It was obvious that the air-conditioner was not on. I realized that the electricity might not be connected in the apartment. Who's apartment was this anyway? It was furnished yet vacant... odd.

Rudy interrupted my thoughts. ``You will find that my changes allow for conditions on the country attribute. In particular, with these changes we can easily distinguish between domestic traffic and traffic that crosses national borders.

Rudy's mouth twitched with a slight smirk as he headed for the door.

``Goodnight Mr. Raymond. You will find that you are in the apartment across the hall from your own. Again, Goodnight.''

And then he was gone.

I sat in the dark and reflected on the strange meeting that had just transpired. Rudy Levinski was trapped on the outside. He had not been able to earn the trust and cooperation of the FBI as I had. Like me, he was a prime suspect, but for some reason the FBI seemed unwilling to open a dialogue with him and make a deal. Or, perhaps Rudy had not been careless enough to give them a chance. I recalled my own arrest. I would not describe the initial behavior of the FBI agents as cooperative. Still, that was behind me now, yet for some reason the FBI was not as quick to cooperate with Rudy. Did they know something about Rudy Levinski that I did not know? Something that I should know?