IN GOD WE TRUST

by Jim Harrington

The coffee was gone, but my hangover remained. It was a hereditary problem. Like my dad, I had to be the best at everything -- best athlete, best detective, best drinker. Had last night been worth it? That was a decision for my client to make. The problem he'd hired me to solve was a lot more serious than a headache and a case of dry mouth.

“Have you found out who's leaking our secrets, Rachel?” Kyle Morgan stood at the glass window of his partner's office and looked out at the ten employees cloistered in blue-walled cubicles, one of whom he expected was a traitor.

“Not yet,” I replied, “but I learned something last night that might help.”

“I still think you're overreacting,” Kyle's partner, Geoffrey, said. He was the Chief Programmer and Technical Director for the company. With black hair too short to comb, a starched white shirt, and blue striped tie, he didn't look like my idea of a computer nerd.

“I showed you what I found,” Kyle said to the window. “Proprietary information about our next product is on every gaming blog on the Internet.”

As much as Geoffrey didn't look the part of a techie, neither did Kyle's appearance match his job title of CEO and Director of Marketing. I met him last week at the Applebees on Fifteenth to discuss his problem and was surprised when he introduced himself. He was tall, with a blonde pony-tail, the tip dangling between his shoulder blades. He had a diamond stud in his left earlobe and wore jeans that I thought would fall off if not for the suspenders.

Now sitting in the spartan offices of K&G Software, I looked away as Kyle paced in front of the window. It made me dizzy to watch.

“The economy is tough enough. If one of our competitors beats us to market with a similar game, we'll be ruined.” He lowered himself into the empty chair next to where I sat. “We've worked too hard for the past ten years to lose everything now.”

“Maybe you said something to an analyst who let it slip,” Geoffrey said as he made notes in the margin of a printout.

“I doubt that.” Kyle crossed his legs and looked at me. “The analysts sign NDAs. They know if word got out that they blabbed, no one would trust them in the future. Besides,” Kyle recrossed his legs, unable to remain still, “there are ideas posted regarding marketing for the new product that I haven't told anybody.” He turned to his partner. “Not even you, Geoff.”

Geoffrey looked up and stared at Kyle briefly before returning to his work.

“You know, Geoff, you drive me crazy. It's like you don't care.”

“Of course, I care,” Geoffrey said. He slammed his pencil on the desk and accidently swept a pile of papers on the floor with his elbow as he stood. “It's my company, too. In fact, there wouldn't be a company without me. Or have you forgotten who created our first product and the next and..?” He slumped into his chair and fell silent.

Kyle's face sagged, and he held up a hand. “Sorry. No, I didn't forget. It's just… Sorry.” He lowered his hand and looked at me.

“What did you learn?”

“According to this guy I spoke to last night, there is a leak in your organization.” I didn't bother to brag about drinking the guy into submission, or mention that he was in my bed when he admitted defeat. Like my business card says, “Whatever it takes.”

“I knew it,” Kyle said. He looked out into the office. “But who?” He stared for a moment and then turned to face his partner. “They're all our friends. Why would one of them put us in jeopardy?”

Geoffrey leaned back in his chair, shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest.

“As you suggested,” I said to Kyle, “I asked your systems manager to look at the company e-mail logs. She found no outgoing or incoming messages that looked suspicious. She also checked the firewall logs with the same result.”

I paused and looked at my notes, not because I needed to. “I performed a test when I arrived this morning in all office areas, except here. Do you mind if I complete the process?”

Kyle looked at Geoff, who shrugged again, then back at me. “Please.”

I reached into my briefcase, retrieved what looked like an oversized PDA, turned it on and waited for the four orange lights to indicate the detector was ready. I stood and moved around the room, stopping at Kyle's chair before returning to my own. Once seated, I placed the machine back in my briefcase.

“The man I spoke to last night was one of your competitors, who, by the way, isn't much of a drinker.” My weak attempt at a smile did nothing to ease the tension in the room. “He told me he had a recording with information about your upcoming product.”

“He what?” It was Kyle who rose from his chair.

“Whoever did this could have made the recording and either walked out with it, or mailed it.” I watched the anger contort Kyle's face. “Like you said, you're all friends. No one would suspect anything was going on.”

Kyle moved to the glass wall once more.

“So who is it?”

“Who gave you the stud?” I asked.

Kyle turned and faced his partner.

I didn't have to wait for an answer. It was on Kyle's face.

“It's a bug,” I said.

“Why?” Kyle asked.

Geoffrey turned, his face red. “Because of you and your damned ego. You take all the credit for what happens here. Your name's the one that's in the newspapers and blogs. Your name's the one everyone knows. If it weren't for me, you'd be in some room with a bunch of addicts frying your brain like you did in college.” He stood and walked to the window overlooking the city's skyline.

I sat with my head down, invisible, I hoped, and listened to the silence that filled the room, until it was broken by a muttered command.

“Get out.” It was Kyle. “Get out of this office now.”

Geoffrey turned to face his partner. He stepped to the pile of papers on the floor and reached down.

“Leave them,” Kyle said, his voice tense but quiet. “And you can expect to hear from the company lawyer.”

Geoffrey stomped past Kyle and out the door. The others stared first at Geoffrey, then at Kyle.

“Thank you, Rachel. I'll have Ellen cut you a check right away.” He reached down and picked up the nameplate off the desk. “Geoffrey Ogden Dean.” He turned to me. “We all referred to him as GOD.”

I watched tears form in Kyle's eyes. He looked at me. I assumed the hurt on his face extended to his heart.

“And we all trusted him.”

I closed my briefcase and followed Kyle out the door. He asked the others to gather around. I headed for the reception area to wait for my check. I liked my job, but some days, like today, it sucked.