“You know, you climb up one side, swing yourself across and then climb
down the other side. That’s a rough analogy of how mail travels over
the Internet. The parts are fluid per se, but they don’t necessarily
form a single cohesive unit. The result is, sometimes in formation sent
cannot be retrieved.”
“But it’s possible?”
“If the e-mail was sent using one on-line service through the whole
route–like, for example, America Online–you can retrieve it.”
Sidney thought quickly. They had American Online at home. But why
would Jason have sent her the key and then taken it back? She
shuddered. Unless he wasn’t the one who had canceled the transmission.
“Jeff, if you’re sending the e-mail and you want it to go through, but
someone else doesn’t, could they stop it? Cancel the transmission like
you said, even if the sender wants it to go through?”
“That’s kind of a weird question. But the answer is yes. All you have
to do is have access to the keyboard. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just thinking out loud.”
Fisher looked at her quizzically. “Is something wrong, Sidney?”
Sidney ignored the question. “Is it possible to read the message
without the key?”
Fisher looked at the screen and then turned slowly back to Sidney.
“There are some methods one can employ.” He sounded hesitant, his tone
much more formal.
“Could you try to do it, Jeff?”
He looked down. “Look, Sidney, right after you called today, I phoned
the office just to check on some ongoing projects. They told me…” He
paused and looked at her with troubled eyes. “They told me about you.”
Sidney stood up, her eyes downcast.
“I also happened to read the paper before you came over. Is that what
this is all about? I don’t want to get into trouble.”
Sidney sat back down and looked directly at Fisher, gripping his hand
with one of hers. “Jeff, an e-mail came across my computer at home. I
think it was from my husband. But then it vanished. I think it might
have been the key for this message because Jason mailed that disk to
himself. Whatever is on that disk I’ve got to be able to read. I
haven’t done anything wrong, despite what my firm or the paper or anyone
says. I have no way of proving that. Yet. All you have is my word.”
Fisher looked at her for a long moment and then finally nodded.
“Okay, I believe you. You happen to be one of the few attorneys at the
firm I like.” He turned back to the screen with a determined air.
“You might want to get some more coffee. If you’re hungry, there’s some
sandwich stuff in the fridge. This could take a while.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The dinner with Frank Hardy had been an early one and it was only about
eight o’clock when Sawyer pulled up to the curb in front of his
apartment. When he climbed out of the car, his stomach felt immensely
comfortable. His brain, however, didn’t share that pleasant feeling.
This case seemed to have so many angles, he wasn’t quite sure where to
start grabbing.
When he slammed the car door shut, he noticed the vintage Silver Cloud
Rolls-Royce high-stepping down the street toward him.
His neighborhood was seldom, if ever, witness to that sort of
spectacular wealth. Through the windshield Sawyer could see a
black-capped chauffeur at the wheel. Sawyer had to look twice and then
it hit him what was odd. The driver was on the right side–it was a
British-built car. It slowed down and came to a quiet stop next to him.
Sawyer couldn’t see in the back of the car because the glass was tinted.
He wondered if that was an original production item or had been added
later. He didn’t have time to wonder past that. The rear window came
down and Sawyer was staring into the countenance of Nathan Gamble. In
the meantime the chauffeur had exited the car and stood ready by the
passenger door.
Sawyer’s eyes swept the length of the massive vehicle before coming to
rest on the Triton chairman again. “Nice set of wheels. How’s the gas