Chapter Eleven

Miniversal Corporation

It was early evening. On the fifty-seventh floor of Miniversal's skyscraper in Cape Suzette, Rebecca Cunningham was hard at work, as she had been all day. The typewriter in her office clattered loudly as her fingers flew across the keys.

...on behalf of the Miniversal Corporation, she typed, it has been a pleasure corresponding with you, Mr. Woodward. We are happy to renew our business relationship for the coming year and look forward to celebrating many mutual successes together. Signed, Rebecca Cunningham, VP Marketing, Miniversal Corporation.

She typed the last character with a flourish, then leaned back in the expensive Carlo Bovino office chair. Finishing that document was the last thing on her list. At last she was done for the day. At least with actual work, she thought.

She looked at the Bullova clock on the wall. It was a little after 6 PM. She made her way to her office door, then poked her head out. As she expected, the floor was empty. Everyone had basically left an hour ago. It was so quiet the only sound she heard was the sweep of a cleaner's broom somewhere in the distance.

It was the perfect time to slip out of her office and do what she had planned.

She quickly scampered back to her desk. In a single motion, she swept all the papers on the desktop into her briefcase. Then she gathered her purse, coat, and briefcase in the blink of an eye. She was about to leave when she noticed one of the paintings on the wall was askew. She quickly adjusted it, then stepped out of the office.

Rebecca started making her way down to the file room. It was located on the other side of the floor, and she had to go through a lot of hallways to get there. When she entered the hall where Mr. Perry's office was, she held her breath. But his door was closed and he had long since left for the day. She exhaled a sigh of relief.

The file room was unlocked. She walked in and did a quick sweep of the room, searching among the file cabinets and papers to see if anyone was there. She was alone. She headed to the cabinet that contained the file she had seen earlier - the one with all the records on Cape Suzette Harbor.

As she opened the drawer where she remembered seeing the file, she hoped it was still there. It had been more than a week since that day she discovered it, and she hadn't been back to the file room since. That was plenty of time for someone to clean out the drawer or move the file elsewhere. But luck was on her side. The blue folder was still there, sticking out like a sore thumb next to all the yellow ones. She hesitated, staring at it for a second.

Then, before she could talk herself out of what she was doing, she grabbed the file and whisked it away beneath her jacket.

Time to get out of here, she told herself. She picked up her briefcase and purse from the floor, walked briskly out of the file room, and headed for the elevators. She boarded the first one that stopped, then took it all the way down to the building lobby.

There was a guard desk in the lobby. Two hyena guards were sitting there, looking bored. They barely looked at Rebecca as she passed by. She glanced out the windows of the building and saw a taxicab idling on the street outside. Perfect, she thought. Just need to catch it before it leaves. She quickened her pace, walking briskly to the large glass revolving door that led out. She stepped inside the cylinder and pushed.

The door didn't budge.

That's weird, she thought. It worked this morning. She pushed harder. Nothing happened. Frustrated, she pushed even harder. The door stood fast, but she did succeed in tweaking her shoulder. "Ow!" she muttered. "Stupid thing…!" She continued to struggle with the door. She was so preoccupied that didn't she hear the sound of footsteps coming up behind her. They got closer, and closer.

The tap on her shoulder almost made her jump out of her shoes. She froze like a deer in headlights. Slowly, she turned around.

The hyena guard from the desk greeted her with a friendly smile. "Evening, Miss Cunningham," he said. "Working late tonight?" He moved his arm, and Rebecca noticed that he was holding a large screwdriver at his side.

Rebecca's eyes widened in fear. She could feel the outline of the file folder beneath her jacket. She hesitated, not sure if she was about to be detained...or worse.

"Um...yes," she said, trying to play it cool. "I just got done. Now I'm going to grab dinner, because I'm starving!"

"So are we," the other guard said from behind the desk. "But if we don't keep our butts in these chairs, Mister Sultan won't pay us." His companion found the comment hilarious, and they both started laughing hysterically.

Rebecca paused, then joined in and politely laughed along with them, trying to sound as natural as she could.

"Sorry about the door," the first guard said. "It's been having some issues lately. Not sure what's wrong with it."

"Oh," Rebecca said. She relaxed a little.

"I told you, it was that hippo lady from the tenth floor," the second guard said. "She's a living argument that doors should have a weight limit." The two guards exchanged glances, then burst out into laughter again.

"Ahem," the first guard said, getting himself under control. "Yeah, we have a call out to maintenance to come take a look at it. I'll let you out in the meantime." He reached up with the screwdriver and started fiddling with the mechanism at the top of the cylinder. After a few moments, there was a sharp click, and the door seemed to move a little. "There you go."

Rebecca tried pushing on the door again. It easily yielded to her nudge. "Thank goodness!" she said gratefully. "I mean...thank you very much."

The guard tipped his hat. "No problem, Miss Cunningham. Have a good day."

Rebecca pushed through the door and headed straight to the cab by the side of the road. She sidled up to it, glanced around to make sure no one was watching her, then swiftly opened the door and climbed into the backseat. The cab driver yawned and started up the engine. "Take me to the police station," Rebecca said. "And hurry!"

The cab pulled away from the sidewalk. Rebecca looked out the back window and watched the Miniversal building rapidly recede into the distance. She reached beneath her jacket, felt the file folder, and let out a little sigh of relief. Mission accomplished. Somehow, she'd made it out with the file. And that would be all the evidence the police would need to shut down the whole operation and save Cape Suzette Harbor. She felt exhilarated. She was also proud of herself for managing to stay cool and collected in front of the guards.

Actually, that was pretty easy, she thought. She felt a small smile grow on her face. Maybe if this Miniversal position doesn't work out I could become a secret agent. Clearly, not everyone can stay calm under pressure like I can.

Cape Suzette Police Headquarters

"Are you deaf?" Rebecca shouted. Her voice was as shrill as a fire alarm. She threw her arms up in frustration. "Listen to me! There's a conspiracy to destroy Cape Suzette Harbor! And the Miniversal Corporation is in on it! You need to get people on this right now!"

"Calm down, Miss Cunningham." Sergeant Stanley said, raising his hand for silence. He and another cop, a young-looking black bear from the night shift, were sitting across a desk from Rebecca in the waiting area of the police station. It was just the three of them there. During the day the room would be bustling with suspects being brought through and cops taking statements. But it was late; practically everyone had gone home. Except Stanley. A notorious workaholic, he seemed to always be around.

Rebecca sighed. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. I've been under a lot of stress lately."

"Slow down. Let's go over this one more time, from the beginning." Sergeant Stanley leaned over his notepad, pencil at the ready.

Rebecca took a deep breath and started talking. For the next ten minutes she carefully related everything she knew about Miniversal, Griffith, and Operation Deep Blue Sea. Not wanting to leave a single detail out, she racked her brain, trying to recall everything. By the time she was done, she felt exhausted. "That's all I know," she said breathlessly.

The sergeant finished scribbling in his notepad. He looked thoughtful. He said nothing for a while, then turned to the other cop. "Well Bosch, what do you think?"

"Honestly?" the young cop replied. He rolled his eyes. "I think she's nuts."

"I am not!" Rebecca said indignantly. She stamped her foot on the floor.

"Miss Cunningham, we get a lot of people coming through here," Sergeant Stanley said. "They all have something they want us to investigate. Problem is, a lot of times those stories turn out to be nothing but sunshine and rainbows. There's only one way to find out if your story checks out." He leaned over the desk. "That file you took from the Miniversal offices. Where is it?"

"I have it with me."

"You do?" Sergeant Stanley leaned closer. "Where?"

Rebecca removed the folder from beneath her jacket and proudly showed it to them. "Right here."

The two policemen looked at each other. They clearly weren't expecting her to have brought actual evidence with her. "Okay," the sergeant said. "Let's see it."

Rebecca put the folder on the desk. Sergeant Stanley opened it, removed the thick stack of papers inside, and spread them all over the desktop. "You said these are financial records?" he said.

"Yes. Of every company that got swindled by Griffith. And a memo from my boss proving he was behind the whole thing."

"Okay. Let's take a closer look." Sergeant Stanley produced a magnifying glass from his pocket. The old weathered cop steadied it over the first page in the file. Rebecca listened patiently as he started to read it aloud in his gruff voice. "Three Krakatoa Specials," he said. He raised an eyebrow, then continued. "Four Superincredible Burgers. Eight bags of Macademia nuts..."

Rebecca felt a lump in her throat. "M-Macademia nuts?" she repeated.

"Two Girly Temples…" Sergeant Stanley put the paper down. "This isn't from one of the harbor businesses. It's a receipt for food and drinks. Some place called Louie's."

"Louie's?" Rebecca felt her face grow flaming hot. She stared at the papers on the desk in disbelief. "I-I don't understand. There must be some mistake. Check the other papers in the file."

"Already have," the other young cop said. He finished rummaging through a pile of papers on the desk.

"And?" Sergeant Stanley said.

"They're all receipts. From different bars and restaurants. Some pretty hefty tabs too." The young cop looked at Rebecca disparagingly. "Looks like someone's had one too many Krakatoa Specials."

"B-but those receipts aren't mine!" Rebecca protested. "It's not the right file!"

Sergeant Stanley frowned. "I think that's obvious. Mind explaining it to us?"

Rebecca could almost feel the officers staring at her. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what was going on. She was sure she grabbed the right file - the location of that file cabinet and drawer was burned into her memory. And there weren't any other blue folders in that drawer, either. Suddenly, there was a moment of clarity, and she realized what must have happened. "Wait a minute!" she blurted out. "Someone must have pulled a switch!"

"A switch? What do you mean?"

"Someone switched the file I saw last week with this one."

"Who?"

"I don't know! Maybe Mr. Perry saw me looking at it….or someone else from the office found it!" As Rebecca thought about it, the more she was sure that someone had pulled a fast one. "I should have known, getting that file was way too easy," she said under her breath.

"Hmmm." Sergeant Stanley stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What you're saying is certainly possible. Whoever's involved in this scheme would certainly want to cover their tracks." He cast a skeptical glance at her. "But you must know how this makes you look, right?"

Rebecca looked coolly at the sergeant. "What are you trying to say? That I'm some sort of crazy person?"

"I didn't say that. But you can see why someone would think so."

Rebecca's heart sank. She really felt she had been close to saving the harbor. Now that goal seemed farther away than Panda-La. Despite that, she decided to try one last time to make her case. She lifted up her chin and spoke bravely. "Sergeant, I don't care if you think I'm crazy or not. I know what I saw!" She took her Miniversal employee badge out of her pocket and held it up. "I really do work for Miniversal. This badge proves it! And there really is a document out there that proves everything I've told you. I swear my daughter's life on it!" She looked pleadingly at the two cops, clasping her hands together. "There's no reason I would come in here and make all this up. I know you're busy, but please...can you at least look into what I've told you?"

Sergeant Stanley's gaze hardened. He said nothing, but leaned forward in his chair, his eyes searching Rebecca's face. She felt like she was in an interrogation. This guy could make Shere Khan spill his guts, she thought to herself.

After what seemed like a minute, the sergeant spoke up. "Miss Cunningham, I've been doing this job a long time. I like to think I've learned something about who's to believe and who's had too many Krakatoa Specials. Your story's a doozy...but you don't seem like the sort to make something like that up."

Rebecca's face lit up. "So you believe me?" she said hopefully.

"I'm not saying that either. Not yet anyway. In any event, it doesn't matter what I believe."

"What do you mean?"

"Without evidence, our hands are tied. This isn't Thembria. There's due procedure we need to follow. We need a warrant before we can start looking into your case." The sergeant gestured to all the papers on the desk. "These phony docs that you brought us aren't going to help us get one, either."

Rebecca nodded. She wasn't a legal expert, but she knew enough to understand that what the sergeant was saying was true. "What can I do to help you get a warrant?" she said. "I'll do whatever I can to help!"

"That file you mentioned would be a good start. The real one, I mean. It must still be at Miniversal. Can you get your hands on it?"

"The file?" Rebecca shook her head vigorously. "I don't think so. I have no idea where it is! I don't even know if it's still around - someone could easily have destroyed it by now!"

"I doubt it. From what you said, this was a big operation with multiple players. Even if the original was destroyed, there must be another copy floating around somewhere." Sergeant Stanley gave Rebecca a serious look. "Listen to me. You're the only one who can do this. The minute we send someone to Miniversal without a warrant they'll have us up to our ears in court summons. But you have full access to the company, inside and out. You're the perfect person for a sting operation."

Rebecca bit her lip. "I guess so...you're right."

"Look around. Ask around. If you're able to get us that file, and it supports what you've told us, then I promise you...I'll send so many officers over there they'll have to sign a new lease." Sergeant Stanley grinned devilishly.

Rebecca saw what she had to do. If anyone could save Cape Suzette Harbor, it was her. She rose from her chair and put on a determined expression. "Fine," she said. "I'll get you that file. I don't know how...but I will."

Rebecca's Apartment Building

"Thanks," Rebecca said to the taxi driver. She handed over her fare and got out of the back of the cab. At last, she found herself on the sidewalk next to her apartment building.

What a day! she exclaimed to herself. It was almost midnight. Between a full day of work and her stop at the police station, she was completely exhausted. And glad to be home, she thought gratefully. Slowly, she started walking to the entrance of her chic apartment building. Her sore feet complained with every step she took. As she neared the building, she felt the mist from the building's decorative waterfall on her face. It felt cool and refreshing.

She decided to take the building's exterior elevator up to her floor. Normally she would walk a little farther to the main entrance and use the elevator there, so she could pick up her mail. But she was so tired she didn't want to walk the extra hundred yards. The mail could wait until tomorrow, and the exterior elevator would drop her off right next to her door.

She pressed the button on the elevator and watched it come down along the side of the building. There was a soft ding as the doors opened. She stepped inside, and the doors closed. She rode the elevator all the way up to her floor, which was the twelfth. The doors opened again and she got out.

Rebecca walked the few steps down the hallway to the door of her apartment. It was closed and locked, as it should have been. The babysitter's probably sleeping, she thought. I'll let myself in. She reached into her purse to grab her key. Then she noticed something strange.

For some reason, her apartment key wasn't where she always put it. Ever since she had bought this purse, she always kept her key in the same place: inside the compartment between her makeup case and her wallet. But there was nothing in there. For a moment she panicked. She thought she had lost her key. Then she felt something in the adjacent compartment. She pulled it out. It was her key.

That's weird, she thought. I always keep it in the same place. She tried to think if she had taken it out of her purse earlier for some reason, but she couldn't remember. The whole day was a blur. I must be more tired than I thought, she realized. Oh well. Time to go to bed.

She let herself into her apartment, and the matter was quickly forgotten.