Chapter 60
Evidently, Cooley had plenty of free time in prison.
He was actually finishing his time in a federal “camp,” a fenceless low-security joint where violence was not tolerated.
Simon tracked him down online and learned that he had been convicted in Maryland three years earlier and would be released on parole in early September.
It was his first offense, a federal violation, something complicated to do with internet theft.
Further sleuthing revealed virtually nothing about his girlfriend, Zander.
Simon’s curiosity about them paled in comparison to their interest in him.
According to Zander, Cooley had easily trespassed into Simon’s virtual world, and not only thumbed through his office files, a mind-numbing waste of time, but also accessed his longtime personal email account at Google.
Simon was momentarily irritated by this, but then figured what the hell.
For years he had assumed that someone somewhere was seeing every email, shopping order, calendar entry, and personal note, so he had always been careful.
He was floored, though, when Zander informed him Cooley had hacked into the secret email account Simon had opened over a year earlier, primarily to hide his gambling.
“Why’d you stop gambling?” she asked over a drink in a student bar, two doors down from the tea shop.
“I made too much money.”
“Doesn’t appear so.”
“Look, the FBI had me on its radar and I got a tip from an old friend. It was time to quit.”
“Just curious.”
“Okay, I have something important for you. Can you guys take a look into the virtual world of Oscar Kofie, the X-ray tech I mentioned last time?”
She giggled, a little teenage snicker, and said, “Cooley’s already on the trail. It’s not going to be easy, though. Kofie really likes his privacy and he knows his way around the digital world.”
“Not sure I follow.” When it came to technology, Simon was often on thin ice, and usually felt like a moron when talking to Zander. She could roll her eyes like a know-it-all kid or she could flash a warm, reassuring smile that exuded patience.
She smiled and said, “He’s obviously paranoid and protects himself with some pretty impressive firewalls and gates. But Cooley loves a challenge. He’ll get in soon enough.”
Simon was once again amused at the idea of a federal inmate with his own contraband laptop, holed up in the prison library wreaking havoc in the virtual world.
It was also sobering to know that somewhere out there in the vast universe of the web there were people who could find and watch everything.
Why couldn’t those people work just for the intelligence agencies and leave the common folk alone?
If he could do it, and he knew it was impossible, he would toss his computers and retreat to the Stone Age where people wrote letters with pen and paper and had long chats on old-fashioned telephones.
She said, “Cooley’s working on something for you.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Are you being a smart-ass?”
“Yes.”
“He has developed his own home-brew software that cannot be hacked or penetrated. Calls it Teflon.”
“Original.”
“Smart-ass again. I have it on my computer. He’s customizing a program for you that’ll keep your systems thoroughly secure. That way, he and I, and anyone else for that matter, can send you stuff without leaving a trace.”
“And what are we afraid of? I’ve already been convicted, Zander. I’m going to prison.”
“Congratulations, gold star for you. I, however, am not a felon, not yet anyway, and I prefer to keep it that way. I’ll install the software for you at no charge and you’ll never know it’s there.”
“Whatever. I wonder if Kofie likes girls. He’s thirty-six, single, never married. Maybe he cruises through the dating sites looking for love.”
“I couldn’t care less. But if he does, Cooley will know soon enough.”
Loretta Goodwin reluctantly agreed to meet for coffee after work. She was the mother of three, happily married, and unwilling to risk being seen talking to Simon in a bar or some other shady place. She chose the cafeteria in the basement of the hospital, a place that was always deserted at 6 P.M.
Simon bought two cups of coffee and they hid at a corner table, his back to the entrance. Loretta could see those coming and going, but there was hardly anyone to notice. She was not eager to talk but willing to listen.
“We don’t have a solid suspect,” Simon said. “Our list is rather short, but Kofie is at the top of it. I’m not accusing him, yet. But Kofie is the most promising. How much do you know about him?”
She shrugged and studied the floor. “Not much at all.”
“Does he have a close friend here at work? Does he date anyone? Straight or gay?”
“I don’t know and don’t care. It’s none of my business. I have enough to worry about, Mr. Latch.”
“Please call me Simon. How often do you see him?”
“Once a week maybe. He’s the kind of person you see but don’t see. Like a piece of furniture.”
“But there has to be someone here who knows him.”
“Maybe, but I don’t know who. We work in different worlds, Simon. When I’m here I’m very busy caring for my patients. I don’t have time to socialize. That’s not part of my job.”
“I understand. You told the story about Kofie out drinking with his buddies from work and running his mouth. Who were the friends? I believe there were three of them, right?”
“I think so.”
“Can you get me their names? And the names of his supervisors?”
She took a deep breath, reluctant to say yes.
“Please, Loretta. I’m not asking you to do anything illegal or unethical. I’m desperate, okay?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you. Any scrap of info could be crucial, not only for me, but for the hospital as well. Imagine for a moment if Kofie is really the killer. The legal aftershocks for the hospital would be horrendous. An employee, one supposedly vetted, poisons a patient. There’s not enough money in the Commonwealth to pay for that lawsuit. ”
“I get it.”