Lesley shook her head in mute denial.
“So the question I keep asking myself,” Dysart said, “is why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“Oh, Stan.”
Dysart ignored his wife.
“Why didn’t you tell me so I could stop this mess from happening in the first place?”
“He never said a word,” Lesley said.
“There must have been something. A snide comment here or there about the bank.”
Lesley shook her head as she tried to recall.
“No,” she said. “He loves his job. He was excited you were going to put him on that merger team.”
“I knew it,” Dysart said. “He couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I told him not to tell anyone about that.”
Lesley opened her mouth to explain, then realized there was nothing she could say.
Dysart turned to Sheila. “You know what else that jerk is doing?”
“Really, Stan, the language.”
“He won’t tell the FBI the keyword. Even now that he’s caught, he still wants to squeeze the bank — squeeze me — for every ounce of pain that he can.”
“But we haven’t even talked to him yet,” Lesley said, “heard his side of the story.”
“How could he possibly have a story I care about? There is no excuse for what he’s done.”
“We should at least talk to him.”
“Oh, I’ll talk to him all right,” Dysart said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rob climbed the stairs to the unit’s second tier where the three visiting rooms were located.
“Room 702,” the officer in the control booth had told him, “the one in the middle.”
Rob opened the door and looked in. His heart seemed to skip a beat when he saw Stan Dysart sitting on the other side of the Plexiglas barrier. Suddenly he felt like a fish in an aquarium, trapped and on display for the world. He walked in and sat down on a metal chair.
“Stan,” Rob said, “I swear I had nothing to do with the attack on the bank.”
Rob felt the full force of Dysart’s fury in the stare he received in return.
“I would never do anything like that,” Rob added.
“Looks like you had a rough night,” Dysart said. His voice had a slightly hollow sound coming through the small holes in the bottom of the glass.
Rob blinked and felt a minute twinge of relief. This wasn’t what he had expected.
“You have no idea,” he said. “They—”
“Good. Do you have the slightest idea how much trouble you’ve caused?”
Rob was stunned into silence.
“Between twenty and thirty million dollars. That’s the latest estimate of what your stunt is going to cost in lost revenues. And then there’s what everyone is saying about First Malden, how we let in the cyberterrorists and gave the whole banking industry one more black eye.”
Rob closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
“Agent Steeves says you won’t tell him the keyword,” Dysart said.
“Stan, I swear to you. I didn’t do it.”
Dysart leaned forward and jabbed his forefinger at Rob.
“You’re lying to me.”
Rob’s head jerked backwards as droplets of spittle ended up on the Plexiglas.
“What’s this big grudge you have against the bank, huh?” Dysart said. “What makes you want to do something like this?”
“What could I possibly have against the bank? I have an awesome job. The people I work with are great, and you talked about doing unbelievable things for my career. Why would I do anything to jeopardize that?”
“I can’t possibly imagine.”
“I wouldn’t. No way.”
“Don’t yank my heartstrings, son. I’ve been around the block too many times for that. Steeves told me about the fingerprints, the email trace, the whole story. They’ve got you cold. Holding out on the keyword is only going to hurt you and me both. Why don’t you tell me what it is and we can start putting this whole mess behind us.”
“Don’t you think I’d tell you if I could?”
“I know people,” Dysart said. “Senators, District Attorneys, people with influence. You don’t get to where I am without learning how to pull a few strings. I can help you. You understand I can’t have you working at the bank after this, but if you tell me the keyword I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make things go easier for you. I don’t really care whether you get punished. It’s more important to get the bank back on its feet. I need your help son, and I need it right now.”
“I told you, I—”
“Or, if you won’t help, if you let my entire life’s work run down into the sewer because you’re too stubborn to admit you’ve made a mistake, then I’m going to make sure they bury you where you’ll never be found.”
Rob sighed. “I don’t know the keyword. I didn’t do it.”
“That’s not what the FBI tells me.”
“They’re wrong.”
“They can prove it.”
Rob just looked at him.
“Don’t be stupid,” Dysart said. “You can help yourself.”
When Rob still didn’t answer, Dysart shook his head in disgust. He stood up and walked out of Rob’s sight.
Rob had never felt so empty. His head slumped. He hardly had the strength to stand. Going back downstairs and listening to the machismo of the other inmates playing hearts was the last thing he wanted to do, so he sat like that for a while. After a few minutes he heard footsteps. He lifted his head and saw Lesley on the other side of the glass.
Tim opened the door as far as the security chain would allow and looked to see who had knocked. Two men in suits stood in the hallway outside his apartment. The taller one with the salt-and-pepper hair and the craggy face spoke first.
“Tim Whitlock?”
“Yes.”
Tim’s breath caught in his throat when the man produced a badge. “Special Agent Steeves, FBI. We need to speak to you about the problems at the First Malden Bank. Can we come in?”
Tim’s heart sped up. He pasted on what he hoped was an appropriate expression of confident concern.
“Absolutely,” he said.
The two men sauntered into the kitchen, looking around as they did so.
“This is Special Agent Hanley,” Steeves said. He nodded toward the living room. “You watching TV?”
They could hear voices. Good Morning America was on.
Tim nodded. “My dad’s in there.”
“Would you prefer if we went somewhere more private?”
Tim smiled even though his stomach felt queasy. “Why would we need to do that?”
Steeves gave him a tiny shrug and just stood there, looking at him as if to say, “you tell me.”
“We can talk here,” Tim said, pointing to the kitchen table. “Can I get you guys a cold drink or something?”
“No, we’re good,” Steeves said.
Hanley pulled out the chair closest to the window. His suit jacket draped open as he sat down.
Steeves leaned against the kitchen counter as Tim sat down opposite Hanley. Tim wondered if this was Steeves’ way of gaining an edge.
“We’re talking to everyone who works on the system that was attacked,” Steeves said, “trying to get a sense of how this could have happened.”
“Okay,” Tim said.
“Have any of the people you work with been particularly anxious or angry about anything lately?”
“Not really.”
“We understand you’re good friends with Rob Donovan.”
Tim’s pulse quickened. “Yeah. So?”
“Rob was arrested last night. It’s clear he had a role in the attack.”
Tim made his mouth drop open.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he said.
The two agents sat and stared impassively at Tim.
“Rob?” Tim said. “No way.”