Chapter 6
St. Louis, Missouri – 2016
"Any awards for writing or published works republished in professional journals?"
"I'm a 2014 Bronze Quill award winner," Lois responded. She did not particularly like having to be interrogated by some uptight old maid doing her bosses dirty work screening applicants for jobs. She pasted on a pleasant smile that she hoped hid the contempt that was building beneath her exterior.
"And that was for?" the woman who had introduced herself as Annie Daniels, the Executive Secretary to the Editor of the St. Louis Daily News asked.
"Excellence in journalism," she began. "I wrote a human-interest article for my course at Metropolis Community College Kansas City campus and it was submitted to the panel of judges by my professor."
Annie looked at the application Lois had submitted. She looked up. "And this…article…you wrote, was it written for periodical or journal or something?"
Lois took a breath and smiled broadly. "No, as I said, it was written as a course requirement in my first MCCKC journalism course. I did not write it intending it would be published, it was submitted to my professor for a final grade. It was my professor…"
"Yes, Ms. Lane. I have all that. Thank you." The old woman made a note and looked up. "I think I have all the information we need. We will be in touch within three days to schedule an interview with Mr. Busby, our Editor-in-Chief. Do you have any questions?"
About a million but none for you. "No, I think I'm fine." With that, Lois rose. "I will wait to hear from you," she said and left the small office that adjoined Annie Daniel's regular office.
Two days later, Lois received a call from Annie Daniels asking if she would be available for an interview with Andrew Busby, Editor of the St. Louis Daily News. Lois's heart jumped expecting to be told that she was not being considered for the position at this time. The interview was set for the following Monday at 10 AM. "Please be on time," the old woman told Lois. Lois gritted her teeth and assured Miss Daniels that she would be there and prepared for the interview. Her reply was met with a 'humph' from the old woman and the call disconnected. Bite me, Lois thought. What's her problem?
In the past six months, Lois's thoughtful articles and ability to find the story within a story had built her into a local but respected brand in the Kansas City area. Her Bronze Quill award had put her on local newspaper and magazine editors' radar. None of them offered a permanent position as a staff reporter or columnist but they did offer to review and publish her work as a freelance journalist. Lois took their offers seriously and provided them with several articles that they edited and published. Most involved local interest matters rather than serious the hard-hitting news events that Lois longed to cover. She wanted to be an investigative journalist but needed the institutional protections and legal backup to launch into those type of stories. So, when a job announcement for a reporter in the St. Louis Daily News popped up on her computer, she jumped at it and applied without even considering the difficulties she may face relocating to a new city and different environment.
For her part, Lois had earned an associate degree in journalism from MCCKC in 21 months. She found writing stories on events to be almost second nature to her and as others struggled with content, she produced it at an amazing clip. It enabled her to take on additional courses needed to meet the AA degree requirements while still holding on to her midnight shift job at the diner in Olathe. That job allowed her to get to know several of the swing and midnight shift cops in town. She quickly became a favorite among them for her more than just her beauty. It was her tough demeanor and quick wit that endeared her to the boys and girls in blue. And while she engaged all of them in friendly banter that sometimes got a little rough, if one of the younger cops tried to hit on her because the misinterpreted her intentions, they would quickly intervene to protect her against unsolicited advances. They also respected her as the daughter of a soldier and wanted to protect against any retribution that could have arisen from her court testimony against the perpetrators of the Olathe armored car robbery.
When things were quiet in the diner and a late-night holdover from the Olathe PD swing shift or on-duty detective came in, Lois would sit and question them to learn about how certain crimes were committed, about what the various elements of the crimes were, and how the police went about solving them. She asked them about sources and how they developed them. She picked their brains for information that she knew would help her someday. From violent crime to economic crime, drug crimes to street crimes, Lois absorbed the information like a sponge. For their lessons in police work, Lois had gotten Paul Mason to allow her to discount their meals or give them coffee for free. He liked the idea of the increased police presence at night for the diner and for his daughter, Beverly. He had no reservations about offering it previously, but the fact is that there was not enough police visiting the diner to even justify offering it. But there were now, and Lois was the focal point of that increased customer activity.
Before she was hired, the local police spent most of their time at the Waffle House during the nighttime shifts. It was quite convenient to the station and the prices were a little better than the Masons could offer. Once Lois was hired and her involvement in stopping the armored car robbery perpetrators from escaping was known, she was like a police magnet. It was her looks that got them through the door, but it was her personality that kept them coming back. They liked her and she liked them, and through that symbiotic relationship, she learned a great deal about criminal schemes and the telltale signs that certain crimes were being, or about to be, committed and who was the likely culprit. She was not an investigative journalist, but she did use the information she absorbed from the police to write more articles about crime and how it impacted businesses and neighborhoods that were picked up locally as freelance articles. She learned from some seasoned detectives about the telltale signs of deception and how to spot the body language of the average person who was hiding information out of fear or anxiety.
On the home front, she had kept in casual contact with her father and her father would occasionally receive an article written by Lois that appeared in one of the Kansas City newspapers included in the 'Fort Ryan Early Bird', a cut-and-paste compilation of local, regional, and national news articles deemed of interest to the General and greater Fort Ryan leadership team that was produced daily by the Fort Ryan Public Information Office. Seeing it made him proud of Lois and he would go so far as to even email her his kudos on an article, when he felt he had the time to do so. Sam told himself that if he was not the installation commander, he would suggest that she apply for a position with the Fort Ryan Public Information Office. But her familial relationship with Sam would surely be viewed as nepotism by others and he did not want any such stain on his reputation.
Lucy remained living at home at Fort Ryan and was now working in a law office in Hutchinson as a receptionist and legal assistant apprentice making decent wages. She seldom, if ever, communicated with her older sister and that suited Lois just fine.
Between her job and the tips she received from the cops and late night patrons, Lois was actually able to not only cover her living expenses but even put some money away. By the time she traveled to St. Louis for her initial interview for the Daily News position, she had amassed $10,217 in her savings account. Over $7,800 of the savings account was residual money from her father's gift but that still meant she had saved over two thousand dollars in a little under two years. Lois figured that if she had to move, she would have the means to break her lease and get an apartment in the St. Louis area without resorting to using the credit card her father had given her. As it was, she had only used it on one occasion and that was to purchase a new laptop when her other one had died. But she quickly paid the credit card off the same month she used it helped her begin to establish a solid credit history.
Lois went into Kansas City to purchase a business suit for her interview. She selected a smart black jacket and skirt ensemble with a dark purple blouse. Using that outfit as a basis, she bought three more pairs of slacks and two different skirts that matched the jacket material, two belts, four different blouses that could be worn with or without the jacket and either tucked or untucked, a two pair of inexpensive but comfortable dress flats, and one pair of high heel pumps. The purchases completed the foundation of her professional business wardrobe and give her enough combinations to attend several interviews and work in an office for more than a month without having to repeat the exact same outfit once. That purchase cost her a little over $1,600 in total and the clothing fit as if they were hand-made for her.
She was professional in her appearance for her interview with Andrew Busby and confident in her ability to do the job she would be asked to do when she entered the downtown St. Louis business building that housed the St. Louis Daily News. She signed in at the security desk, received a numbered visitor badge, and was directed to the bank of elevators that would take her to the 9th floor where Editor-in-Chief Andrew Busby's office was located.
Lois had arrived thirty minutes early, having spent the previous night in St. Charles, just outside the St. Louis city limits. Before stepping into the elevator, she looked at the directory and found where the various newspaper sections were located. She made a mental note and stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the second floor that opened to the Daily News local desk.
She stepped out of the elevator and into a brightly lit hallway. She followed the muffled noise human activity that was coming from behind glass doors that announced it as the Daily News newsroom. Here was where the local news was reported. Stories were being developed and would be provided to editors before the end of the day. Some stories were new and others were follow-ups.
She pushed through the doors and into a large open office that was busy with animated and subdued conversations and the hustle and bustle of newspaper employees moving through aisles and rows of cubicles. Tapping of computer keyboards and whirring of printers were the backdrop to twenty or more conversations being conducted over phones. Lois could smell the coffee that was being consumed by the gallons and several employees sped past her without a word on their way to somewhere else in the city or maybe just the building.
This was the heartbeat of the newspaper, Lois thought, and the flurry of activity made her smile. This is where her voice could make a difference. This is the life she wanted and the thought of being a part of a real newspaper caused an electric thrill to course through her body. She wanted to drink it all in, but she wanted to check other floors for where stories for other sections of the newspaper were housed. She knew that they would not be as busy as this bullpen, but she wanted to see them nonetheless. She wanted to see it all.
Her interview with Andrew Busby went extremely well. Busby was a neat, athletic-looking man in his late 40's, she guessed. He wore a striped business shirt and plain loosened tie. He had closely-cropped blonde hair that was graying at the temples and wore tortoise shell glasses that Lois thought could use some updating.
He was a pleasant man but did not ask a lot of questions and seemed to be pre-occupied with some minor crisis that was or had occurred within the last twenty-four hours. He had reviewed Lois's published stories and complimented her on them. He asked about her Bronze Quill award and how she got the idea for the article. Her response impressed him, and he drilled down on that for a moment, learning that she also received a commendation from the police for her role in it the successful capture of the robbers and saving Andres Ballesteros' life. He commended her for her quick thinking, and he told her that in this single article, she demonstrated the initiative that he wanted all of his reporters to show.
When the interview was finished, he picked up the phone and asked the human resources director to come to his office. He introduced her to Lois and told the director to 'on-board Miss Lane'. He looked at Lois and asked, "When can you start?"
Lois beamed hearing those words. "As soon as you need me to," she replied. "I just have to give my current employer notice and find a place to live; maybe two weeks at most," she concluded.
The director of human resources asked her to follow her. Before she left the office, she turned back, shook Mr. Busby's hand, and thanked him. "Good grip," he commented with a smile and finished by saying, "Welcome aboard, Lois."
Lois had been paired with Tony Arreto since she began her employment on June 17th. Tony was an older reporter and had been part of the Daily News staff for almost 16 years. He was a thin, frail man who bristled when people said that they were reluctant to talk to the media or asked for anonymity. He hated having to protect sources for simple stories. If a witness was in danger, that he could understand but someone who witnessed a traffic accident, a domestic disturbance that brought out the police, or a simple assault that arose from some form of disagreement and did not want to reveal their identity irritated him to no end. Lois would attempt to intervene and talk less aggressively to the person in order to get the details out of them after Tony alienated them. She would take responsibility for keeping the source's name out of the paper and away from anyone else who may have dangerous intentions. People liked Lois's personality and straightforwardness by intervening when Tony was getting agitated at their concerns. She developed a good reputation and even Tony begrudgingly commended her to their editors on the way she handled people.
Lois had begun to also develop sources inside the St. Louis police department and St. Louis County Sheriff's Office. Tony had his sources inside those departments as well but some of them had gotten older, softer, and were not on the street any longer. That did not make them as current in some street-level matters as Lois's sources were.
She also developed a list of sources outside of the law enforcement agencies, sharing those sources at times with investigative services who, in turn, shared their sources with Lois. One such source was Tim Nelson, a young man just one year younger than Lois at 21 years old and a former hacker. The investigative service that Tim Nelson helped often intervened to identify those hackers of iPhones and cloud storage services that had been ransomed by deep web hackers.
In life, Tim was a nerdy computer geek who worked at a cell phone and computer repair shop in St. Louis. Upon being introduced to her by his handler in the private investigations company, he was smitten with Lois at first sight. Although she made it clear that she would never get involved romantically with any source, she was kind to Tim and that was a rarity in his life, making him even more obsessed than before. He was a skinny, pale young man with a mop of black hair and a patchy attempt at a beard that grew better under his face than on it. Years of studying and writing computer code and being exposed to blue light had damaged his eyes to the extent that he wore thick glasses, adding to the nerdiness of his appearance. Yet, for all his physical defects, he was a genius when it came to malicious computer code, message routing, internet protocol addresses, surreptitious delivery vessels, and tracking origins through the web.
He instructed members of the private investigations company on tricks and methods to replicate the abilities he had in tracking and finding evidence that hackers always left behind. And with that evidence, companies paid Tim to train their investigators how to backtrack an attack to its source. He had single-handedly built a small cadre of talented computer-fraud investigators for several private security firms but he remained head and shoulders above all of them in technical ability. He occupied in a soft spot in Lois's heart. Tim Nelson was homely and gangly but sweet and brilliant, and Lois promised herself that whenever he helped her with a story, she would reward him with dinner or lunch dates.
So, when Tony and Lois were assigned a story about a ransomware attack on a private Missouri university's grade management system, the very first person Lois contacted was Tim Nelson. She invited him to go to lunch with Tony and her. Tony had gotten the hard drive image and message traffic from a source at the Missouri State Police forensic lab that the MSP computer analysts could not crack. Lois talked to Tim about the ransomware attack.
Tony offered the hard drive image and message traffic he had pulled from his source and Tim replied that what he needed was access to the mainframe at the school and to speed things up, when they received the ransom email and when they were locked out of the system. He told them that he could do the rest. Lois smiled and winked at Tim and said, "If you track this back to a person, I owe you dinner, Tim."
For the next few days, Tim performed a complete autopsy on the school's mainframe. He found the entry point and began a backward trace. He documented each step backward with screenshots and notes. The trail ended with an IP address assigned to Walter and Marianne Billingsley, a middle-aged couple living in a posh section of suburban St. Louis.
Lois could not believe it when Tim showed up at the Daily News with his laptop and ream of printed paper squeezed into a messenger bag that was slung over his shoulder. "You're kidding!" she exclaimed when she met him at the door to the bullpen. "That fast?"
"I think you owe me dinner, Lois," he said, smiling confidently, which made him appear even more nerdy than before.
She led him to an interview room and called Tony Arreto to meet her there. The three of them sat and Tim explained each step of the way how he traced the ransomware back to the Billingsley residence. "But you don't know who there sent it, right?" Tony asked.
"No," Tim said. "This is where the police come in. They would need a search warrant and examine all the computers, tablets, cellphones, and gaming systems in the home. The home has a home network and one of the devices sent the malicious code but there's no way of knowing which device it was sent from without it being examined." Tim pointed to the final document in his stack of screen prints. "Right here," he said, "the address that ends in .7 is the device it was sent from. That device would have fingerprints and personal information in it that could identify the perpetrator." Tim sat back pleased with himself and Lois beamed.
Tony reached across and shook Tim's hand. "That's some really great information, Tim." He looked at Lois. "We'll have to turn this over to the police so they can get a warrant. I'll make sure we're there at the house when they serve it. We'll get the scoop." He looked back at Tim. "You don't have any objection to that, do you?"
He looked at Lois and she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. "I..I guess not." He glanced back and forth between the two reporters. "You'll protect my identity, right?" Tony cocked his head and Tim expounded. "I don't mind giving it to the police, but I don't want someone targeting me or the business I work at because of this."
Lois reached across the table and put her hand over Tim's. "We have to give the police your information but we won't divulge it in our story when it comes time to report it. When the police interview you, as a witness," she added, "you can state that you want anonymity from disclosure before you will cooperate with them."
"All you'll be doing is certifying the screen prints, Tim. They'll take them to a judge to get the warrant. Once they can duplicate what you have done," Tony said and pointed at the stack of paper, "they can pull the trace themselves, right?" Tim nodded. "Then once they do that, they wouldn't need your testimony in court or anything."
Lois could sense his nervousness. "Tim," she began, "we'll protect your name from our end and if the police do what they're supposed to do, you won't even be connected to this." She smiled to reassure him. "You'll be fine. You'll be the unsung hero of this story," she added.
Tim smiled. "Okay, I'm good with it." Lois returned his smile.
Four days later, Tony Arreto alerted Lois that they would need to be ready to go early the next morning to follow the state police on a search warrant of the Billingsley home. In advance of the early morning venture, Tony and Lois arrange to meet with Andrew Busby to brief him on what they have found and the story that they want to cover.
"What was the name again?" their editor asked.
"Billingsley, Chief," Lois replied and spelled it for her boss. He looked up at Lois wanting more. "Our source couldn't say who the exact person in the home was until the police do the forensics on the computer equipment." He continued looking at Lois and she added, "The home is owned by Walter and Marianne Billingsley," she read from her notes.
"What we want to do is cover the search warrant, Chief. After that, once there is an arrest, we'll know what the backstory is on it," Tony said.
Busby nodded. "Let me check on something. Go ahead and cover the search warrant tomorrow morning and have a draft to me by COB tomorrow. But this doesn't go to press until I give the word. Understood?" Both nodded but Lois looked perplexed. "Is there a problem, Lois?"
"Are you hesitant to print this story once there's an arrest, Chief? If a judge signs a warrant, there's probable cause to suspect a crime has been committed so we're not making any accusations or judgments. The police may be but not us. How can we be targeted by these people?"
Busby sat back in his chair. "You're new to St. Louis, Lois so you're probably not aware yet. Billingsley is a powerful name in this town. The name's not spread all over buildings and things but there's a lot of money and lots of influence behind the scenes. We just need to make sure all our T's are crossed and I's dotted so I'm going to be heavy-handed on this one, okay?" Lois nodded. "Good. Now get out there and get me a story!"
The next morning, Lois and Tony waited with the state police forensic unit as they watched as the homeowners were awakened and the search warrant was read. A handful of seven police entered the large home with the manicured lawn and elegant landscaping. Lights came on and after about fifteen minutes, the home was deemed secured and the forensic unit was called in.
"Wonder how long this will take?" Lois asked. "They have to bag up electronics and phones, I can't imagine that takes too much time, right?"
Tony shrugged. "You wouldn't think so but I've been on search warrants and sometimes it seems surreal how long they take. It's not the devices in plain sight, it's the notion that there may be some hidden if they're committing crimes with them." The older reporter fired up a cigarette and leaned against the panel van that the forensics team brought. "My source predicted no more than two hours." He looked at his watch. "It's only been about twenty minutes."
Suddenly, there was a rush of several uniformed officers into the expansive home. "What the Hell?" Lois remarked. Radio handsets attached to protective vest breast pockets squawked from nearby officers who assumed a more alert status. The two reporters watched as a forensics team member was being helped out of the home by two officers and an ambulance that had been staged at a corner gas station-convenience store about four blocks away roared into the driveway, bypassing the van that Lois and Tony had been leaning against, and raced to the front of the home. A gurney was taken from the back of the ambulance, expanded, and rolled through the front door of the home. "What the Hell do you think happened?" Lois asked, looking at her partner.
"My guess is either one of the techs was exposed to something or was injured dismantling some electronic gear." He strained to see anything. "Maybe someone got froggy with one of the team members. It's hard to tell just yet." He paused and then added, "I don't know anything about these people but if they are as powerful as the Chief said, I doubt they did anything."
They continued watching and saw the gurney brought out of the house with someone on it. The paramedics were talking to whoever was on the gurney and while they moved carefully, they did not seem to be racing to load the victim into the ambulance. Once they did, however, the ambulance pulled away with its red lights on but no siren. "Damn strange," Tony said slowly. Suddenly, he exclaimed, "Oh shit!"
They watched as two people were taken out of the home by police, both in handcuffs, and quickly put in two different sedans. Lois could not see who the two were and Tony said he would ask his source who was arrested and on what charges. The two police units left, and forensic technicians began hauling electronic equipment out of the home.
Lois fished her keys out of her purse. "What are you doing?" Tony asked.
"I'm going to follow them to the hospital to see if I can find out what happened to the two forensics team members. Are you covered for a ride?" she asked. Tony replied that he left his car nearby. "Okay, meet you back at the office in three hours." Lois rushed out of the driveway and found her car parked half a block down the road. She hopped in and headed to the hospital.
When Tony showed up a little before the three-hour rendezvous time, he found Lois already typing away. "What did you find out?" he asked.
"Other than it takes a lot of cash to get paramedics to talk to you, I found out that one tech had a dislocated shoulder, and another had been stabbed but it was not life-threatening." She looked up. "Got her in the back, just above the kidney thankfully and missed everything. What about you?"
"It was the son and mother taken out," Tony began. "My source tells me that while collecting the electronics, the kid tried to snatch his cell phone away from the tech and they got into a scuffle that resulted in the dislocated shoulder, I'm guessing. A plain clothes and uniform came in and restrained the kid and one uniform began to help the technician. Mom hears the racket coming from her son's room, gets ahold of a letter opener somehow, and stabs the plain clothes in the back."
"Jesus!" Lois exclaimed.
"No shit," Tony replied. "They cuffed both of them! Apparently, there was a good amount of blood from the cop and no one knew what the damage may have been. Glad to hear it was non-life threatening." He paused. "Yeah, anyway, it was the kid planting the ransomware, at least that's what the forensics team suspect. The mom and dad are old money country club types, you know. They hire people to teach them how to use their cell phones." He sat down next to Lois. "Let me see what you have so far."
By the end of the day, they had the foundation of a great story that would scoop all the other news agencies. Up until the ambulance roared in, everything was handled so low key that even the neighbors had no clue something was happening so no one from the media, other than Lois and Tony were there. They submitted the story to Andrew and awaited his approval.
The next morning, there was no approval from the Chief, but he did send an email to them asking that they get the formal charges for Marianne Billingsley and their son, Stefan. "I'll take care of that," Tony announced and grabbed his phone to call his source at the state police. Lois caught a muted news broadcast on the large flat panel television in the newsroom. The chyron read, "Police Action Just a Misunderstanding". She saw a distinguished-looking man standing next to a well-dressed man speaking to the camera teams in front of the Billingsley home. She looked for the remote to turn up the sound that had been muted. By the time she had it, the broadcast had finished, and the news anchors were wrapping up the story. From their description of the press conference, the police had claimed they mistakenly served a warrant based on faulty evidence and arrests were made as a result. The charges were later dropped. The report added that the rumor of a ransomware attack turned out to be a prank that got out of control and that there was no lockout of the grading system used by the university.
Tony arrived at about the same time Lois learned that there were no charges. "They cut 'em loose," Tony said flatly. "Like always, it pays to be rich," he added, turned away and headed to his desk.
Lois swiveled around. "That's it?" she exclaimed. "Are you kidding me? You aren't in the least interested in this?" She followed Tony to his desk. "Tony," she started, but he spun around and cut her off.
"Listen Mary Sue, this is life in the big city. This isn't some deserted Army base or little dried-up town in the middle of nowhere. This is St. Louis and this is what happens in big cities when rich assholes control the police, the courts, the media, the government in general. You better get used to it or you'll be collecting food stamps instead of stories as a reporter." He turned back around, stepped to his desk and sat.
Not knowing what to say to her cynical partner, Lois walked away and headed to see Andrew Busby. She went up the elevator and stepped off onto the ninth floor where her editor's office was. There sat Annie Daniels, rearranging accoutrements on her desk. "Miss Lane," she said looking up. She saw the look in Lois's eyes. "Is there a problem I can help you with?"
"I need to see Andrew. Is he available?"
Without saying another word, Annie picked up the handset from her desk, punched in three numbers and a phone rang in the other office. The old woman told her boss that Lois was there and a short, muted conversation occurred before Annie hung up. Before she could say anything to Lois, Andrew opened his door. "Come in, Lois."
Lois walked in and before she could say a word, Andrew started. "I know why you're here and I can't say I'm surprised. I'm as upset as you are about the Billingsley screwup. But don't think for a minute I blame you."
"Blame me?" Lois was flabbergasted. "Is that why you think I'm here?" Her editor confirmed that was his belief. Lois corrected that perception immediately. "I'm here because something has been covered up. This whole thing is corrupt as hell! Some technician's shoulder was dislocated by that punk and a plain clothes cop was stabbed in the back by some high-society crone and recovering today in the hospital. The two people who were arrested yesterday are sitting at home because the police are now saying that there was faulty evidence?" She caught her breath. "That's a load of bullshit, Andrew. I showed it to you and laid it out for you. Tony knew it wasn't fake evidence or faulty evidence. The friggin' judge knew it wasn't. You know it, I know it, and everyone who heard the damn news report knows it. So why doesn't this paper do something about it?" She was beet-red with anger.
He peered at Lois through his tortoise shell framed glasses and motioned for her to sit. She did and he sat in a chair next to her. "Do you want the truth or do you want the company line?"
She calmed down a bit. "I've heard enough BS, today, Andrew. I'd like to know the truth."
"The truth is Billingsley owns half the politicians in this city, most of the judges, and a huge swath of the police, to include state police. You've heard of the Teflon Don? Walter Billingsley is called the Teflon Wall. He owns everything," Andrew shifted in his chair. "Including this paper, Lois."
She shook her head, part from disgust and part from frustration.
"I'll tell you something that I won't tell most around here. It sickens me when I have to pull people off stories because something may come back to bite Billingsley. But to keep my job, I have to." He sighed. "We all have to, because if we don't, he'll fire us, ruin our chances of working anywhere else, and just put another person in this position who will. So, I publish what I think we can get away with and push the envelope as best I can." Lois nodded her understanding and suddenly regretted thinking that Busby was the problem. "I wish I could change it, Lois; I really do."
Lois rose, appreciative that Andrew Busby took the time to meet with her and more than a little underwhelmed by him. There was a sadness in his eyes, a look of regret. At that moment, she knew he deserved better but as long as Billingsley was signing the paychecks, Andrew was the city's best hope of getting some straight news. There was some serious corruption occurring and Lois wanted to find a way to end it or at least, put a big dent in it.
The only way around this was through the feds, she thought on the elevator back down. Getting them engaged would cut through some of the local level corruption and she wondered why that had not already happened.
Lois returned to her desk, collected the screen prints that Tim Nelson had provided along with her notes. Tony looked up. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to see a man about a crime," she said.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Tony warned. "If you value your job or a job in this field, you're making a mistake." He looked around and then back at her. "Do you think this scumbag only has power here in St. Louis?" Lois didn't answer. "His tentacles reach all over. There's no telling who they touch and where they end."
"How do you know that? The other day, you acted like you'd never heard of him," Lois said.
"My source at the Missouri State Police told me," her partner replied. "I called him when you stormed out. He tells me that Billingsley is so friggin' rich that he's got judges, politicians, police, and every other person of note around here in his pocket." He shook his head. "No one fucks with this guy."
She looked at Tony and regarded him for a moment. She wondered if he ever was a good reporter or cared enough to risk his job for the good of society. She grew up in a world where people risked a hell of a lot more than just their employment for an ideal and she could not understand why others never shared that sense of duty. He was a burn-out, she thought, and he should be covering ground-breaking ceremonies and building dedications, not hard news. "Maybe today," Lois replied, "but not forever," she concluded and headed to the door.
Lois sat with Tim and went over the whole scheme again. "You're convinced that this wasn't some prank or hoax, right?" she asked. They were huddled in the small shop he worked from. There were laptops, desktops, and cell phones laying around on metal shelving, all with little tags or invoices taped to them. Some were ready for pickup and others were awaiting his work to repair them. The place looked like it had been ransacked to Lois.
Tim loved the company he was keeping, and he loved holding her attention. "100 percent sure," he replied. He pointed to some coding that looked like a line of nonsense to Lois. "This right here is the malicious code. It's the single line buried in the rest of the program's code that locks out the administrators and owners of the database. Right here," he emphasized, tapping at a line of code as if it would suddenly become clear to Lois.
"And you can clearly show it's route back to the Billingsley home, right?"
"Better than that, now that I know the home LAN address assignments, I can tell you what device it was sent from." Tim was confident and Lois was too.
"I'm going to the Feds with this, Tim," she said. "Are you in with me on it?"
Tim's ego swelled. "Sure, Lois. Let's put these bastards away!"
She smiled. "That's what I wanted to hear," she said. "All of this stuff is secure, right?"
He nodded. "Yup. I have the original screen caps on a thumb drive that I've hidden in my apartment. I've made a couple duplicates and hidden one here and kept one plugged in to the laptop that is exactly like the one I used to back trace, just in case there is a break in here and someone started looking." Lois smiled, impressed that he had thought this through. "I do watch TV, Lois. I know people might come looking and I wanted to give them decoys."
"That's smart planning but I think you're okay, Tim," Lois said. "We kept your name out of everything we produced."
Tim opened his desk drawer and from its underside, pulled off a micro-SD card in a clear plastic case that he had taped there and handed it to Lois. "This is your holy grail. It's the video I shot with a GoPro while I back traced from the university's system to the Billingsley address." She took the card and carefully put it in her purse. "If the thumb drives went missing or were corrupted, that proves the case right there. It runs about 24 minutes. It's date-stamped and it's irrefutable. You should hold on to this if you ever need proof there was ransomware and it was put there by Billingsley. I narrated each step as I was back tracing."
"Should the police get this?" Lois asked. "Will they be able to figure it out?"
"Not the police around here," Tim replied. "Maybe the Feds if you can find one who hasn't been corrupted yet. But you'll have to go outside the area to find one."
Lois scowled. "This guy is that powerful? How is it I've never heard of him before?"
"Lois," he began, "I had never heard of him before now and I've lived here for nine years. I went to some chat rooms and found out about him. He's ultra-rich and those guys seldom raise their head above ground. You never hear about them because that's the way they want it. They control so many things that they can control what is printed about them so they can keep their anonymity."
She had a new appreciation for Tim. The nerdy young man she guessed only knew about motherboard and video gaming platforms apparently knew a lot more about the world than she would ever have guessed. She smiled to herself. "Yeah, I learned that yesterday." She took one of the duplicate thumb drives from him. "I'll find someone who might be interested. I have a few connections of my own," Lois said.
"In that plastic bag by the door is the original laptop I used. Hold on to it too. If you have that, the video on the SD card, and the thumb drive, you have all the evidence you would need to prove it." He looked at her. "But do you think that anyone is going to get excited about some hacker kid ransoming a university, even if his father is filthy rich?"
"Knock over one domino and the others will fall, Tim. That's my philosophy. If this guy is corrupt as I think he is and his kid and wife had charges dropped against them after attacking police officers, this would be just the tip of the iceberg." She hugged him. "Thanks for this. Keep a low profile over this and I'll be in touch."
She left the little shop where Tim worked and never spoke to him again. A customer who needed his cell phone repaired found Tim dead the next morning, needle stuck in his arm, slumped back in a chair behind a desk in where his work had been piled up. The shop had the look of a place that had been ransacked.
But it was seven months before Lois learned about Tim's death. The day after her meeting with him, Lois returned to work to find a message on her phone that Andrew Busby needed to see her. She headed up to the editor's office and was told to collect her belongings and that they would mail her final check to her by the end of the week. She was being terminated immediately for insubordination.
"What the hell, Chief?" Lois was confused. No one had given her an order that she disobeyed.
"I told you that the article would not be published and yet you continued to investigate it," Andrew told her. The look in his eyes and his facial expressions told Lois that this was not his decision but one made higher up…much higher up.
"Well, thank you for having my back, Andrew," Lois replied curtly. She turned and left his office. In the outer office, Annie Daniels sat with a member of the security staff standing by in the adjacent office she had been interviewed in, to escort Lois to her desk to retrieve her personal items and escort her out of the building.
"Told ya," Tony said and sneered as she emptied her desk into a cardboard printer paper box under the watchful eye of the security guard. She was led out of the bullpen. "Good luck, Mary Sue," Tony called to her. Lois said nothing in reply to Tony but did show him the color of nail polish she was wearing on her middle finger that day as she left.