The Fugitive's Trail by J.C. Fields Read Free Book Online

the first page. This time, he read more carefully. He read the memo two more times. He laid it down on this desk, took his glasses off, and shut his eyes. Squeezing the bridge of his nose with his right thumb and forefinger, he said, “How hard was it to find?”
    “Not very. I’m surprised you haven’t had a lot of complaints from your customers.”
    Quest’s eyes were weary and it looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple of days. “My team can’t find it. We knew we had a problem, but knowing and correcting are two different issues. Can you fix it?”
    “How much has the bank lost so far?”
    “About a hundred thou…” He caught himself. “The amount is not for publication. The bank has covered all the losses, not one customer has lost a penny.”
    Diminski nodded. “FDIC. Do they know about the security breach?”
    “No, it would raise our rates. Can you fix it?”
    He nodded. “Yes, I can.”
    Quest stared at the report, then at his computer screen. “Draw up a contract. I’ll take it to the president for his signature. Can you start tonight after the bank closes?”
    Diminski reached into his computer bag, withdrew a prepared contract spelling out his obligations to the bank and the bank’s obligation to him. Standing, he handed the contract to Quest. “I’ll be here at six.”
    Three days later, a smiling Brian Quest handed Diminski a check. “I’ve been authorize by the board to offer you a long-term retainer.”
    Diminski raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
    “The holding company that owns the bank wants to be able to request your services and receive immediate attention.”
    “Are there other banks with similar problems, Brian?”
    Chuckling, Quest nodded. “The same company designed the systems for most of the banks within our network, JR.” He smiled, his eyes looked rested. “They want you to do a complete audit of our online security structure.”
    Diminski smiled. “Sounds like something I would enjoy. Tell them I accept.”
    After all the paperwork was signed, Quest said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, what does JR stand for? Are you a junior?
    Hesitating for just a moment. “It stands for J and R. My parents never told me why they named me that way; they died when I was young.”
    His parents had died when he was young, but the name had really come from a gravestone he had found in a large cemetery in the northern part of town. The child had died within a month of its birth, but the birthdate was the same as his: same year, same day. The child’s name was John Robert Diminski. After several days of manipulating databases in New York and Missouri, Diminski had a new identity. There was now a credit history, New York driver’s license, Social Security card, and birth certificate for a person called JR Diminski. His former identity had been permanently erased; no public records remained, except behind a very secure firewall at the Pentagon. A firewall even he couldn’t get past.
    Since arriving in Springfield, his residence had been a hotel on the south side of town. The contract with the banking group was going to increase his workload, creating a need for more space and something more permanent. It was time to find an apartment.
    After several phone calls, he stood in a two-bedroom unit four blocks from his hotel. The building manager stood behind him and said, “How about this one?”
    Diminski said, “I need at least twenty megabits-per-second internet speed.”             
    The manager, a bald, short man with a round belly hanging over his belt, sighed. “We offer free cable, but you can get whatever service you want, you just have to pay extra.”
    Diminski nodded. “How much?”
    “The internet service?”
    “No, the apartment.”
    “Oh, seven-fifty a month, with a two-hundred-dollar, nonrefundable security deposit.”
    Diminski smiled. His apartment rent in New York City was three times that amount and only had one bedroom. “I’ll take it.”
    “I