“A minute or two.” Nikolas fired off another barrage on the keyboard and turned around. “What’s happening, my friend?”
“Nothing much,” I said. “Just wondering how you’re doing.”
Nikolas nodded. “An update on the security camera project?”
“That’d be nice.”
“Short answer is that it’s tough job.” Nikolas considered his words. “Like I thought, it’s not on the same system as the traffic cameras. Those are city cameras, and the system protection is weak. These cameras are state court system, separate from the city and more sophisticated. More protections because court data is more sensitive than cars driving down the road or your friend getting drunk in a park.”
“Hey now,” I said. “Cecil wasn’t drunk.”
“Well,” said Nikolas. “He wasn’t drinking in a park. May have been drunk.”
I conceded this, and we moved on.
Nikolas explained, “The state court system, they’re used to being attacked by hackers from China and people who do it for fun.”
“But you can get in?”
“Maybe,” he said, “but it’ll take a long time to figure out a path.”
“Are we talking weeks?”
“Months,” said Nikolas. “If at all.”
“I don’t have months.”
“You can go to your cop friend, see if he do it.”
After Judge Bryce’s warning about Schmitty, I wasn’t sure I wanted to play on that team. “Are you sure there isn’t a quicker way?” I asked. “I don’t know what, something more direct?”
Nikolas sat for a moment, thinking. Then he turned away from me and located a half-empty Mountain Dew bottle. He unscrewed the cap, took a drink, and set it back on his workstation. “I got an idea,” he said. “But it’s risky.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
The plan we devised in the half hour before I was due in court was destined for failure. In hindsight, it’s quite clear. One should never commit a major felony or violate multiple federal laws in haste. Variables should be limited. Opportunities for discovery and identification should be minimal, if not nonexistent. And, with things going pretty well professionally and personally, I was just plain pushing my luck.
Getting the lunch appointment with Judge Bryce was a fluke. It should’ve been another sign that this was too easy and that I needed to stop and think. Judges are notoriously busy with meetings and court during the day, but when I’d called, he’d told me that he was available. My guess was that Bryce had rearranged his schedule to meet with me. I thought that the judge was merely anxious to hear the latest gossip about Jimmy Poles.
I arrived at the Juvenile Justice Center a little after noon. The overweight security guard that had almost confiscated my phone and placed me under arrest was working the metal detector. As I placed my briefcase onto the conveyer belt for the X-ray machine and passed through the metal detector without a beep, he gave me the skunk eye and didn’t say a word.
I retrieved my briefcase, walked down the corridor to the elevators, and rode up to Judge Bryce’s floor. His law clerk ushered me back to his chambers, and then I sat down across from him. We made small talk about the weather and where we should go to eat.
“There’s a little Indian place about a block from here through campus.” Judge Bryce considered his own recommendation. “Not a bad buffet, the price is right, and it’s quick.”
“Sounds good.” I nodded and then stood.
The cell phone was in my hand. The text had already been typed. I just needed to press “Send” when the time was right.
As I walked out the door, Judge Bryce grabbed his coat and followed behind. He said a few words to his law clerk, and then we walked into the hallway.
We got about halfway, and then I turned to Judge Bryce. I’ve never claimed to be a good actor, and my guess is that this is where the plan started to fall apart.
“Oh,” I said. “I forgot my briefcase in your chambers.”
Judge Bryce shrugged and kept walking. “You can come back up here when we’re done.”
“No.” I turned. “I better get it.” I started back, not wanting to give Judge Bryce an opportunity to argue. “Afternoon appointments.” I took another few steps, and then I looked down at my cell phone.
The text message to Nikolas was one word: Ready.
I pressed “Send” as I walked past Judge Bryce’s law clerk, then entered the judge’s chambers without pausing. I went past the chairs, past my briefcase, and around to the other side of the Judge Bryce’s desk.
His computer had gone to sleep. I pressed a key on the keyboard, and the screen came back to life. Then I clicked on the icon for Microsoft Outlook.
As the program opened, there was a gigantic rock in my throat.
My hand shaking, I moved the cursor and scrolled up to the most recent e-mails. It was there, waiting for me. I opened the e-mail that Nikolas had sent to the judge. The message appeared to have been sent from the judicial district’s IT department. There was a link, and above the link, the words:
YOUR PASSWORD WILL EXPIRE IN TWO DAYS.
PLEASE RESET YOUR PASSWORD.
Neither Nikolas nor I knew how savvy Judge Bryce was with computers. Nikolas figured that we should set it up like a typical phishing scheme. If I had the opportunity to click the link, then he’d be able to install the malware onto Judge Bryce’s computer. If not, we hoped Judge Bryce would read the message and do it himself.
I clicked the link, and the screen flashed. Nikolas was in. Then I deleted the e-mail message, took a deep breath, and stepped back from the computer.
I checked my watch. Less than a minute had passed. And then I looked up.
Judge Bryce was standing in the doorway, looking at me, puzzled.
I glanced at the computer and then back at the judge. I forced a smile. “Better get some food. I’m hungry.”
“Don’t you want your briefcase?” Judge Bryce looked down at the floor by the chair that I had been sitting in. The briefcase was still there. “Or was that not what you were really looking for?” Judge Bryce took a few steps farther into his chambers and closed the door.
“Sorry.” I slowly walked out from behind Judge Bryce’s desk. “Must be going blind or something.” I reached down and picked my briefcase up off the floor. “It was there the whole time.” I nodded. “Ready to go?”
Judge Bryce held out his hand. “No.” He shook his head. “I’m not ready to go.” He stared at me. His eyes cold. “I think you need to explain why you snuck back into my office and were doing something with my computer.”
I held out my hands. “I don’t know.” My mind was blank. I couldn’t think of any plausible explanation.
Judge Bryce didn’t flinch. His demeanor remained stiff. “I think you do know, and I think you better start talking to me.”
I swallowed, unsure of exactly how much trouble I was in. “I can’t really . . . I think maybe I should just go. Have lunch another time.”