Free The Tangled Webb by D. P. Schroeder

course—even one on the commode. Inside of two hours, the work force had grown to dozens of men and women; a collective battering ram in pursuit of the truth.
    At six-thirty in the evening, a researcher called James with an item he believed could be of interest. He had been delving into records on the server of a travel agency that serviced the Wolfe & Hunt law firm, eventually discovering Specter made two trips to Paris in the past six months. The pattern was inconsistent with his profile.
    Specter did travel, but never overseas. Until recently.
    “What are you thinking?” Kate asked.
    “It could be something. Or maybe he decided that Paris is an attractive destination.”
    “But the timing is suspicious,” she countered. “And he made two trips.”
    “Good point. I like the idea of doubling the number of investigators. Burrow deeper into his pool of enemies.”
    “It’s a rather large pool, James.”
    “I know. But we might catch a break.”
    He turned loose more private investigators who headed out in search of loose lips. James removed some items from the fridge and began preparing for an early dinner. An hour later, Kate cleared papers from the kitchen’s center island and they stood, eating and chatting—opting to dine standing because they were too amped.
    They finished the meal and tried to take the edge off by sharing a bottle of red wine.
    The minutes ticked by—each feeling like an hour.
    The daylight receded and evening fell. The hour was approaching nine o’clock when one of the secure phones rang. James picked it up. Kate noticed his expression brighten as he listened to the caller.
    A few moments passed.
    He nodded. A grin swept across his face.
    “Thank you.”
    A silence.
    “Well?” Kate prodded.
    “I think we’re on to something,” he said. “This investigator—a very attractive woman on his team—she left a bar in New York City ten minutes ago where she had a long conversation with a guy. He went on and on about how he was burned by Alec Specter on some bogus tax shelter. Lost a bundle, wants revenge, but he can’t implicate Specter directly in the scam.”
    “And?”
    “I guess he was so drunk and enamored with this young woman that he unloaded on her. His lawyers heard rumors from credible sources about this slick lawyer, Alec Specter, and his involvement in hiding money in banks in Paris.”
    “Interesting,” Kate said, looking up from her papers.
    “You could have your contacts compare transaction data at banks in Paris to wire transfers on the Wolfe & Hunt servers. Any patterns and correlations in connection with this ringleader would be bound to surface.”
    “That would take a long time,” she replied.
    “Not necessarily. You could ask your contacts to help write some custom software programs. It could reduce the time from days to hours .”
    “True.”
    Kate added, “Given the extent of the data, the research personnel would have to be ramped up. The raw data will have to be analyzed by people who know what to look for.”
    She paused.
    “By offering some bonus cash, we could increase speed and efficiency.”
    James rose to his feet and kissed her. “I married a smart woman.”
    “Gee, thanks,” she said, pleased by the compliment.
    Given a new mandate, the geeks sprang into action, pounding away at servers in Paris and New York City—hardened security features erected for the purpose of keeping them out. The challenge would test their resolve and skills.
    And the researchers sifted documents, reducing them from millions to tens of thousands with sophisticated computer software. But technology has its limits. Nothing can take the place of human analysis. Any clue—or piece of the puzzle—would be brought to light through personal application.
    Two hours passed.
    Nothing.
    Kate drifted off.
    A few minutes after eleven o’clock, a secure phone rang. James answered it.
    “Talk to me.”
    “I’ve got something really hot,” announced the