"And their desire to be in on something exciting. But I didn't want to do that. Why shouldn't they have
the dough? I'd have been willing to pay more than that to some phone-company employee if I could have figured out who to bribe. But I couldn't find anybody who'd admit what I wanted was technologically possible. Why not give it to the Kongs? It's not my money, and Kenan Khoury says you can always afford to be generous."
"And if he decides to bail out?"
"That doesn't seem likely."
"Unless, of course, he gets arrested going through customs wearing a vest full of powder."
"I guess something like that could happen," I said, "but that would just mean I'd be out of pocket to the tune of a little under two grand, and I started out by taking ten thousand dollars from him a couple of weeks ago. That's almost how long it's been. It'll be two weeks Monday."
"What's the matter?"
"Well, I haven't accomplished very much in that amount of time. It seems as though— well, the hell with it, I'm doing what I can. Anyway, the point is that I can afford to take the chance that I won't get reimbursed."
"I suppose so." She frowned. "How do you get two thousand dollars? Say one-fifty for a hotel room, and a thousand for the two Kongs. How much Coca-Cola can two kids drink?"
"I drink Coke, too. And don't forget TJ."
"He drinks a lot of Coke?"
"All he wants. And he gets five hundred dollars."
"For introducing you to the Kongs. I didn't even think of that."
"For introducing me to the Kongs, and for thinking of introducing me to the Kongs. They're the perfect way to spirit information out of the phone company, and I never would have thought of looking for someone like that."
"Well, you hear about computer hackers," she said, "but how would you find one? They don't list them in the Yellow Pages. Matt, how old is TJ?"
"I don't know."
"You never asked him?"
"I never got a straight answer. I'd say fifteen or sixteen, and I don't think I could be off by more than a year either way."
"And he lives on the street? Where does he sleep?"
"He says he's got a place. He's never said where or with whom.
One thing you learn on the street, you don't want to be too quick to tell your business to people."
"Or even your name. Does he know how much he's getting?"
I shook my head. "We haven't discussed it."
"He won't be expecting that much, will he?"
"No, but why shouldn't he have it?"
"I'm not disagreeing with you. I just wonder what he's going to do with five hundred dollars."
"Whatever he wants. At a quarter a shot, he could call me up two thousand times."
"I guess," she said. "God, when I think of the different people we know. Danny Boy, Kali. Mick. TJ, the Kongs. Matt? Let's not ever leave New York, okay?"
Chapter 11
On Sundays Jim Faber and I usually have our weekly dinner at a Chinese restaurant, although we occasionally go somewhere else. I met him at six-thirty at our regular place, and a few minutes after seven he asked me if I had a train to catch. "Because that's the third time in the past fifteen minutes you looked at your watch."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't realize it."
"You anxious about something?"
"Well, there's something I have to do later," I said, "but there's plenty of time. I don't have to be anywhere until eight-thirty."
"I'll be going to a meeting myself at eight-thirty, but I don't suppose that's what you've got scheduled."
"No. I went to one this afternoon because I knew I wouldn't be able to fit one in tonight."
"This appointment of yours," he said. "You're not nervous because you're gonna be around booze, are
you?"
"God, no. There won't be anything stronger than Coca-Cola.
Unless somebody picks up some Jolt."
"Is that a new drug I don't know about?"
"It's a cola drink. Like Coke, but twice as much caffeine."
"I don't know if you can handle it."
"I don't know that I'm going to try. You want to know where I'm going after I leave here? I'm going to check into a hotel under a phony name and then I'm going to have three teenage boys up to my room."
"Don't tell me any more."
"I won't, because I wouldn't want you to have foreknowledge of a felony."
"You're planning on committing a felony with these kids?"
"They're the ones who'll be committing a felony. I'm just going to watch."
"Have some more of the sea bass," he said. "It's especially good tonight."
BY nine o'clock all four of us were assembled in a $160-a-night corner room in the Frontenac, a 1,200-room hotel built a few years ago with Japanese money and since sold to a Dutch conglomerate.
The hotel was on the corner of Seventh Avenue and Fifty-third Street, and from our room on the twenty-eighth floor you could get a glimpse of the Hudson. Or you could have, if we hadn't drawn the shades.
There was a spread of snack food laid out on the top of the dresser, including Cheez Doodles but not including Pringles. The little refrigerator held three varieties of cola, a six-pack of each. The telephone had been relocated from the bedside table to the desk, with something called an acoustic coupler attached to its earpiece and something else called a modem plugged into its rear. It shared the desk with the Kongs' laptop computer.
I had signed the register as John J. Gunderman and gave an address on Hillcrest Avenue, in Skokie, Illinois. I paid cash, along with the fifty-dollar deposit required of cash customers who wanted access to the telephone and mini-bar. I didn't care about the mini-bar, but we damn well needed the phone. That was why we were in the room.
Jimmy Hong was seated at the desk, his fingers flashing on the computer's keyboard, then punching numbers on the phone. David King had drawn up another chair but was standing, looking over Jimmy's shoulder at the computer screen. Earlier he had tried to explain to me how the modem allowed the computer to hook into other computers through the telephone lines, but it was a little like trying to explain the fundamentals of non-Euclidean geometry to a field mouse. Even when I understood the words he used, I still didn't know what the hell he was talking about.
The Kongs had worn suits and ties, but only to get through the hotel lobby; their ties and jackets were on the bed now, and they had their sleeves rolled up. TJ was in his usual costume, but they hadn't hassled him at the desk. He'd come lugging two sacks of groceries, disguised as a delivery boy.
Jimmy said, "We're in."
"All right!"
"Well, we're into NYNEX but that's like being inside the hotel lobby when you need to be in a room on the fortieth floor. Okay, let's try something."
His fingers danced and combinations of numbers and letters popped up on the screen. After a while he said, "Bastards keep changing the password. You know the amount of effort they spend just trying to keep people like us out?"
"As if they could."
"If they put the same energy into improving the system—"
"Stupid."
More letters, more numbers. "Damn," Jimmy said, and reached for his can of Coke. "You know what?"
"Time for our people-to-people program," David said.
"That's what I was thinking. You feel like refining your human-contact skills?"
David nodded and took the phone. "Some people call this 'social engineering,' " he told me. "It's hardest with NYNEX because they warn their people about us. Good thing for us that most of the people who work there are morons." He dialed a telephone number, and after a moment he said, "Hi, this is Ralph Wilkes, I'm trouble-shooting your line. You've been having trouble getting into COSMOS, right?"
"They always do," Jimmy Hong murmured. "So it's a safe question."
"Yeah, right," David was saying. There was a lot of jargon I couldn't follow, and then he said, "Now how do you log in? What's your access code? No, right, don't tell me, you're not supposed to tell me, it's security." He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know, they give us grief about the same thing. Look, don't tell me the code, just punch it in on your keyboard." Numbers and letters appeared on our screen and Jimmy's fingers were quick to enter them on our keyboard. "Fine," David said.