3. Corporate Espionage
Corporate Espionage
It was rowdier than normal at the station in Miami Beach when I walked in.
The lobby was full of Asian tourists yelling at Frank by the front desk.
He paid them no mind. Frank had worked the front desk for about a decade now, and every week, he threatened to retire.
This time, though, it looked like he might actually go through with it.
On the other side, the tour guide was doing her best to keep the tourists calm as he gathered a stack of papers for them to fill out.
The station had recently been selected for renovations, given that it was a marble white Art déco building from the thirties, it direly needed an interior facelift.
A broken pipe on the third floor had flooded offices beneath it last summer and left the carpets smelling like wet dog.
The rear of the building and the top floors had been closed off for the construction, and everyone moved down to the other floors; the result was chaos.
As I entered the main office, I was greeted by stacks of papers on the floor.
The old Westinghouse fan, its black paint eroded and half rusted, blew them across the floor into an adjacent cubicle.
Files were falling from the office tables, dropping their contents to the ground and mixing with the rest. What a mess.
The rookie cop, who’d just come on last week, was doing her best to pick it up when I reached down to help her.
“Jessica, right? Here you go,” I said, handing her a jumbled group of papers.
She had honey-colored brunette hair that matched her eyes and a sweet voice with a slight southern accent that escaped her occasionally.
“Welcome to the team. I’m Detective Hernandez, and my cubicle is at the end there by the window. If you ever need anything?—.”
“Hernandez! Get in here!” The captain snarled from his office.
Captain Larry Smith was in charge of the station and had been doing it since before I even got out of the police academy ten years back.
Some rumors swirled he even worked on the building during its construction decades ago, back when the phonograph was all the rage.
“Sure,” Jessica replied, coming to her feet. “Maybe next time we can talk some more, but I think he really needs you now.”
The captain was standing outside the office, his feet tapping in cadence, and with a grimace that would make anyone run in the opposite direction.
But I knew better. There was no escaping him.
He was faster than he looked, though recently he’d given up chasing criminals and opted for shooting them instead.
Then, the captain would add an ill-timed joke like “the bullet is faster” or “I like the paperwork.” Born in southern Alabama, Larry Smith was an all-star track and field star back when Lacey shirts were still a thing.
And yet, with all the challenges he faced, Larry made quite a career of it until he retired, moved down to Miami, and joined the police force.
When I asked him why he chose Miami to move to, he quipped that he planned on working on his tan.
A sensible response, one would think, if you’d never met the man, who was darker than the night sky.
“What’s going on here? Huh? What is this? Some sort of romantic office meeting, Hernandez?” Captain Larry Smith said, his voice speeding up as he went. “Do you have any idea how much shit we’re in right now?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied and glanced at the detective laughing from a corner cubicle. “I’m doing my best to figure this out. I’m working on some leads for the Collins —.”
“Collins? Forget Collins! Put that case on the back burner. I’m assigning you to a fresh case,” Captain Larry Smith said, handing me a thick yellow folder overflowing with documents.
“I need you to read up on this now because the place that was robbed is sending someone over tomorrow to speak to us. It’s important, Detective Hernandez; the mayor himself called me about it.
I could barely get a word in through the shouting. ”
“But, Captain, what about Collins? A man died,” I said as the captain sat down in his maroon leather chair. His desk was a mess. Stacks of files and documents were littered about, save for a picture frame turned towards him.
“I’ll assign someone else. I need you to take this case.”
“Me? Why me?”
“I don’t have anyone else. Jackson is on sick leave. Martin is too old. Johnson is being deposed next week. And Suarez is in Mexico for his honeymoon with his third wife, the dumb bastard.”
“What about a rookie? I bet there are half a dozen willing to help,” I replied.
“We’re done here, Hernandez. I’m assigning the case to you, and that’s final! Read up on the reports for tomorrow’s meeting. Oh, and wear something nice, you know, presentable.”
“I have to dress up for this? What is this case even about? Most of the documents are blacked out?” I said as I pulled out a couple of papers from the folder. Most of the information on the pages had been redacted. “How can I make any sense of this?”
The captain stood up and walked over to me.
“Look, Hernandez. I understand none of this makes sense, but I promise tomorrow you’ll get most of your questions answered.
All I know is that a big company, headquartered near downtown Miami, was robbed last week.
Apparently, very important data was taken on a small hard drive, and they want it back. ”
“Alright, I get it. But why is this all blacked out? The file says classified on the other side.”
“The government is involved. From what I’ve gathered, the company has strong ties with the CIA, NSA, and Department of Defense.
The company mainly builds electronic components specified by the government for special purposes.
It’s all very secretive. Super spy stuff,” Captain Smith said, his finger tapping on the classified file.
“Now, it’s very important that you understand what I’m about to tell you.
No one must know you’re working on this case other than me.
No one else can see these files. Just go through the images, read what you can, and tomorrow come prepared to speak to their representative.
I’m not sure exactly what they want from us.
They’re receiving federal help and it’s officially an FBI investigation, but I think they want some local support without really giving us more information on what’s going on.
The feds even refused my request to send you to the scene of the crime.
The company won’t let locals inside the building or even examine the entry point to the building. ”
“The Feds are involved? Why didn’t you tell me?” I replied with a dour look on my face.
“Because I knew how you’d react after your last encounter with them.
Listen, just do what they ask of you and stay out of their way.
The faster we get this done, the better.
I want them out of my station and the mayor off my ass, but until that happens, I’ll be on yours,” Captain Smith uttered with glee. “So, get to work.”