The Merchant of Secrets by Caroline Lowther Read Free Book Online Page A

fitting
clothes, and across her hips she strapped-on a black leather belt with a gun in
the holster.
     
    The Department of Homeland Security and the   Treasury Department had competed against each other
for primary jurisdiction over the biggest cases and for each department’s share
of government’s appropriations in the federal budget. To get onto an
interagency task force required a specific skill necessary for that objective
and the approval by more than a few superiors, none of which I had at that
moment. Knowledge of Adnan Qureshi was the only card
I could play so the whole idea spun around in my head about a 100 times before
the IRS building appeared through my car window.   
     
    I climbed the cement stairs to the building, and called
Bailey from the service phone in the lobby. She came down to escort me into the
Top Secret office. When the elevator opened on the 6th floor there was a
discrete door to the right into which Bailey disappeared. Then there was a
large grey metal door straight ahead for everyone else. After pushing the
buzzer, the door opened automatically  I walked
into a small chamber and stood motionless  for a body scanner to do its
work. When the person reading the scanner   from an invisible location was done scanning me, the door on the opposite end of the
chamber opened up into the offices of the criminal investigations unit of the
IRS.
     
    Bailey was waiting inside, and offered a cup of coffee
which I needed badly. It had been a heck of a night and the morning was worse. As
we walked past a row of grey cubicles Bailey was grinning.
     
    “Was that you by any chance, looking at me in the scan?”
I asked, embarrassed.
     
    “Yup,” she replied. “Time to get rid of the extra
pounds,” she admonished with wink and a grin as she slapped my butt.
     
    She turned into an empty conference room with me trailing
behind her, and closed the door behind us. Then settling- in at the table she
crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “So, how’s everything with you
guys?” she asked, stirring her coffee.
     
    “Pretty good,” I replied. “I see you’re doing more desk work
now?” 
    “I’m still out in the field, but I try to keep it within
CONUS. Someone else can make the rounds overseas, I’m
tired of the travel. ” CONUS is the abbreviation for continental U.S.
     
    Bailey continued, “Earlier this week I was being prepped
by our lawyers to testify in a trial but it looks like the case will be settled
out of court, so I won’t need to testify after all. Some guy who had attended
M.I.T. tried to sell classified satellite information to the Israelis.”  
     
    “How’d you get dragged into it?” I asked.
    “Well actually the investigation originated here, with
his bank accounts.  He couldn’t explain his cash flow. It just didn’t add
up, so we notified the F.B.I. who then put him under surveillance, and we were
all surprised to find out he was selling satellite information.”
     
    Raising her cup and taking a sip she asked “Okay, so
what’s up?” She got to the point quickly. I knew I had to make a strong case
now or lose the backing of the IRS.
     
    “I’m investigating someone named Adnan Qureshi , but it’s strictly off the record at this point.
I’m following up on some leads but don’t have enough yet. He’s got a number of
alternative addresses in Spain and Turkey and had a current P.O. Box in Abu
Dhabi. The threat may be elevated because he’s staying in Great Falls under the
name of Roger Valdez.”
     
    “Valdez? How’d he get from Qureshi to Valdez? Does he even speak Spanish?”
     
    “Yea.”
     
    ‘”You met him?” she asked, looking sideways at me.
     
    “Yea, in a restaurant in D.C ..”
     
    Bailey drew a long sip of coffee. “Tell me about it.”
     
    “Nothing,” I answered. “He just came up to my friend and
starting talking, introducing himself as Roger Valdez.”
     
    She stared at me in quasi-belief. “Okay,” she