CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Mary opened the door to the conference room, while Sanjay approached with Paul Patrioca. “Hi, I’m Mary DiNunzio,” she said, shaking Paul’s hand, when he crossed the threshold, looking plainly nervous. Up close, Paul had a long, narrow face, with prominent cheekbones and the hawk-like Patrioca nose, which he had grown into over the years. He came off as good-looking, but ill at ease, and his frame was thin and his arms geek-soft.
“Hey, hi.” Paul scanned the room with his pale blue eyes, and Mary introduced Bennie, Anne, and Judy, sitting with Jim on the opposite side of the table.
“Paul, I know your family from way back. Your sister Teresa went to Goretti with me.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Mary rolled out a black ergonomic chair and gestured Paul into it, while she sat down catty-corner to him.
“What’s this about?”
“Oh, I just thought I’d call you in. You don’t know us, but we’re the lawyers for London Technologies in this antitrust lawsuit. We meet from time to time to discuss it, but when I saw you going by, I wanted to say hi.”
“Oh, hi,” Paul said slowly.
“I remember your family. The youngest of seven, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You live next door to the Machiavelli family, don’t you?”
Paul hesitated. “My parents do, I guess. I don’t live there now. I live in West Philly. Powellton.”
“Right, near the Drexel campus.” Mary kept her gaze on him, in her best deposition mode, which is like being someone’s best frenemy. “You probably know Nick Machiavelli, he’s a lawyer in town.”
“Um, yes, I guess I heard of him.”
“But you knew them from the neighborhood, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I mean, I knew of the family.” Paul swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple prominent in his long neck.
“But you’ve met Nick, haven’t you? You must have. His family lives next door to yours. He’s about my age, he’s your sister’s age. He went to Newman when we went to Goretti.”
“Oh yeah, I think I know him.” Paul frowned, glancing again at Jim and Sanjay, and Mary could see that he was too young to be a good liar, which came with practice, or a law degree.
“You probably see Nick from time to time when he goes home. He visits his mother all the time. She still lives in the same house, just like my mother. So South Philly, right?”
“Yeah, I think she still does live there.”
“And your mom, right? She still lives there, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, my father passed eleven years ago.”
“I know, I was at the wake. You don’t remember, you were too little. But I went to pay my respects, for Teresa.”
“Oh.” Paul flushed under his freckled skin and Mary could see she had struck a chord, namely guilt, which always worked with her people.
“Nick goes home to visit his mother all the time. He brings all the neighborhood kids presents. He even gives out turkeys on Thanksgiving day, in the church parking lot.”
“Oh, right.”
Mary blinked, feeling for him. “You and your family probably got one of those turkeys, didn’t they, Paul?”
“Yes.” Paul swallowed hard, looking down at his fingernails, which were bitten off at the end of long, slim fingers.
“We did, too.” Mary put her hand on his arm. “I know what it feels like to need a hand, from time to time. But it’s not a crime to have less money than somebody else. Most people have been there, or they will be at sometime in their lives.”
Paul nodded, downcast, but didn’t raise his head.
“And it’s not even a crime to have somebody put you through college. I would’ve taken that, too. I had student loans until about last week.” Mary chuckled, patting his arm, though she didn’t take her hand off. “And somebody who’s really your friend, who really wants to help you, steps up and doesn’t ask something in return. It’s not a gift when somebody gives it expecting something in return.” Mary paused to let the words sink in. “Is it?”
Paul shook his head.
“So.” Mary moved her hand and let the moment pass. “Now’s your chance to talk to us and come clean. I know you want to, because I know how you were raised. You were raised just like Teresa and me. We all believe in the same things. Sometimes we lose our way, but we can forgive each other if we just come clean.”
Paul sighed heavily, his skinny chest rising and falling in his T-shirt.
“All you have to do is answer my questions and tell the truth. Okay, Paul?”
“Okay,” Paul mumbled, then after a moment, he raised his head, looking at Jim and Sanjay with glistening eyes, his young forehead wrinkling into agonized lines. “I’m really sorry. I really am. I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice.”
Sanjay didn’t answer, glowering, but Jim nodded. “We understand. Let’s straighten this out now. Let’s clear the air.”
“Okay.” Paul nodded, jittery, then wiped his eyes, leaving pinkish streaks on his face.
Mary smiled at him in an encouraging way. “I know this is hard but we’re going to get through this and we’re gonna make it better. So let me just ask you, is Machiavelli putting you through Drexel?”
“Yes,” Paul answered, with a deep sigh.
“How did that come about, did he approach you at some point and offer?”
“Yes, when I was a junior at Newman. My mom could barely afford the tuition in high school. I was on the assistance program. I didn’t think I’d ever go to college. There was no way.”
“I understand.”
“And he didn’t tell me I had to do anything for it, that was what was amazing. It was like Santa Claus.” Paul flushed again. “But it was like a miracle. He said he would foot the bill, full ride. And he did. He does.”
“How does he do that, physically?” Mary hadn’t figured that out yet and was dying to know.
“Some company of his pays the tuition bill directly.”
Mary could have guessed as much. “What’s the name of the company?”
“Dilworth Corporation, LLC.”
Mary made a mental note and she knew that Bennie, Judy, and Anne would never forget the name. In fact, if they could get on the phone to Lou now, they would have. “And Dilworth Corporation pays Drexel directly?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever done any favors for him before this one?”
“No,” Paul answered, after a moment.
“But I’m guessing that one day, probably sometime in October or November, he came to you and asked for a favor, isn’t that right?”
“He called me, yeah.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said I know you do some computer stuff, can you go try to get an internship with this company, London Technologies? Say you’ll work free.” Paul glanced at Jim and Sanjay again, his lower lip puckering with regret. “I really am sorry guys, I mean it.”
Sanjay didn’t reply, and Jim merely nodded.
“Paul, what did Machiavelli ask you to do, specifically?”
“A couple things.” Paul looked down.
“Which were?”
“Basically, let him know what’s going on around here, about the lawsuit with Home Hacks and EXMS.” Paul began picking his fingernails. “Like if the lawyers ever come in and meet, let him know. Try and hear something. Make copies of anything that the lawyers send and get it to him, like that…” Paul let his sentence trail off, and Mary waited for him to finish, knowing there was more.
Sanjay interjected sharply, “Paul, did you give him our code? For the software?”
“Yes,” Paul admitted, hanging his head.
“Oh God.” Sanjay grimaced. “That’s it! Game over!”
Jim shook his head in disgust. “So they’ll become us, once they drive us out of the market.”
“Not so fast, gentlemen,” Mary said, to them. She needed more information from Paul, so she resumed the questioning, in the same quiet tone. “So Paul, you gave him the code for the data integration software?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember when you did that?”
“The first week I worked here.” Paul looked down, still picking his fingers.
“Did you give him anything else with respect to the software?”
“Bug fixes, patches, and code that I wrote for 2.1.”