Under and Over Chapter 94
Leaving Ryan and Esposito to their work, Kate crosses the bullpen to Tech. "Wong," she inquires, "if someone hacked some shipping information, could you trace the hacker?"
Wong swivels from his keyboard in front of the big screen. "What kind of shipping information?"
"Shipping of crates of artifacts from Peru to a brownstone in Washington Heights. I have a suspect or witness, whatever she turns out to be, that claimed she was able to uncover the data because the security was already broken. Could you find out who broke it?"
"Maybe. But it would depend on who handled the shipping and how good the hacker was. Some logistics companies have pretty sophisticated tracking. They can tell you the location of an item at any given time and even the temperature and humidity inside the truck. That data is all available via the internet, which minimizes losses but also creates points of entry. I can't promise anything, but give me the exact address of the brownstone, and I'll see what I can dig up."
"Great," Kate acknowledges, "because chances are that the hacker either is or can lead us to the murderer."
"I'll do what I can, Detective," Wong reiterates.
Kate returns to her desk and her computer. She'd already brought up a website that was the last URL Susan Cheeseborough gave her. It features the history of the Zycot civilization and gives viewers the opportunity to leave comments and submit additional information to the moderator. Fortunately for Kate, the site's in English. She can handle her share of tongues, including Russian, but she doesn't know much more Spanish than the commands a cop needs to give a suspect.
Considering that Spanish is the second most spoken language in the city, Kate's long considered addressing that hole in her skill set, but she's never been able to fit in a class to meet that goal. And for most of her time at the 12th, Esposito's been handy to translate. Still, if she's going to become a New York City prosecutor, speaking or at least understanding Spanish would be useful. That's something to think about alongside law school. But she's got to make it past her LSAT first – and her wedding. Thank God for David!
Kate carefully studies the comments. Most of them address how advanced the technology of the Zycots was despite their lack of metalworking skills. Kate can detect a level of pride in those. One particular comment draws even closer attention. "Misuse of this technology could carry its own penalties." She wonders if the misuse the poster refers to might be drug smuggling. Well, she may not need Wong's skills to find out. The site requires users to register before they can post. That means the owner or moderator will have at the very least an email, and possibly more information than that. All Kate has to do to inquire is hit contact and fill in some information of her own. Unfortunately, she has no idea how long she'll have to wait for an answer. But she won't have to be at her desk to get one. The reply will also come up on her phone. She might even make it to the loft for dinner – or at least a late supper. Mentally crossing her fingers, she continues scrolling through the comments.
"So," Rick summarizes, while incorporating Kate's enthusiastically torn lettuce into a salad, you have more than enough angry suspects from the forum, the chat room, and the website. However, dumping all of those in the crime-busting sieve, the only ones to make it through would be those with access to Checker's address. So everything hinges on what you can get from Wong."
"It looks that way," Kate acknowledges. "And I checked with him before he got off shift. He may have something for me tomorrow, but he's not sure. He's been trying to convince the IT people at a couple of logistics companies that handle cargo from South America that anything they find out for him will help them patch their own vulnerabilities."
"And of course, they don't want to admit they have vulnerabilities," Rick assumes.
"Right. So Wong has to push the right buttons."
Rick vigorously tosses diced tomatoes and sliced cucumbers in with mixed greens. "Aside from checking out that forum for you, I've been pushing some buttons too – on my keyboard that is. I've found a couple of possible online reading courses. One in particular looks like a serendipitous fit to Beckett ambitions."
Kate pulls out a crusty loaf of bread that was warming in the oven. "Don't keep me in suspense, Castle. What's so special about it?"
"The course was written by a law professor who had a hell of a time making it through the reading when he was in school and noticed similar problems with his students. According to his summary, he gives general instructions and online exercises for increasing your reading speed. But he also tosses in specifics on trudging through case law and other weighty tomes. So if the curriculum is as advertised it should continue to serve you along your newly chosen path. I also found some reviews of the course by other lawyers. I thought you might want to look them over and see if any of the names jump out at you."
"That's not a bad idea, Castle. And if I don't recognize any of them, my father might. I was going to call him anyway. He said Aunt Theresa's been bugging him for details about the wedding. But I got the feeling that he's the one who wants to know."
"David is ordering the boutonnieres," Rick recalls. "You should make sure your dad isn't allergic. If the father of the bride has tears in his eyes they should be from emotion, not stray pollen."
Green sparks dance in Kate's eyes. "The only thing I can remember my father being allergic to were three of my high school boyfriends. But I'll ask him."
Jim Beckett reaches for a cell phone half-buried under a stack of documents. "Katie! Is everything all right?"
"Fine, Dad. How's your suit going?"
"I'm getting more class members every day. I get furious thinking about how many parents thought they were doing the right thing by smearing that crap on their kids. If we can get a big enough settlement, I'm hoping the manufacturers will be more careful about putting stuff like that on the market. But I'm going to be up against some pretty high-powered opposition, Dershinsky and Kremplitz."
"You can handle them, Dad. Didn't they lose when they were defending the makers of that whitener that made people's teeth fall out?"
"Yes, but it didn't help their cause that three different networks did specials on the victims, including two supermodels. We want to keep the plaintiffs in this case away from the cameras if we can. Still, you're right. Big names and big money don't guarantee a win. But you didn't call just to ask about my suit."
"No, I didn't," Kate admits. "Our wedding planner needs to know if you're allergic to any flowers."
"Not that I know of, although whatever's in your Aunt Theresa's perfume can be killer if I'm caught in an elevator with her."
Kate giggles. "I know what you mean. And there's something else. I was checking out a few lawyers for a matter I'm exploring. Do you know Jake Varney, Bill Lepshenski, or Drake Zepin?"
"Just Lepshenski. He worked for me as a paralegal before your mother was killed and my practice went to hell. Bright kid. He was trying to get into law school but had problems with the LSAT. Then he took some kind of course and scored a 180. It got him into Columbia. I heard he works for the U.S. Attorney in the Eastern District now and has made quite a name for himself. But if there's something else specific you need to know, I could probably arrange a meeting."
"No, that's all right, Dad. You've given me what I need. Don't work too late."
"You sound just like your mother before she pulled her own all-nighters. Take care of yourself, Katie."
"I will, Dad. Thanks."