The Reformers: A Matt Blake Novel (The Matt Blake legal thriller series Book 2) (10 page)

Chapter 22

Bartholomew sat on the expansive deck of his elegant vacation home in Amagansett, Long Island. He cleaned his gun, a Sig Sauer P226. The Sig is popular in the military and law enforcement for its accuracy and reliability. He had the 357 version, which he used when he was a Navy SEAL lieutenant. It packs a lot more punch than the standard 9mm Sig. He was also an expert in the use of the M16, a fully automatic machine gun, also commonly used in the military.

Bartholomew is a tall man at 6’2,” with short cropped sandy brown hair and deep blue eyes, eyes that some people called “penetrating.” At the age of 38, he had an athletic build, kept that way by a strict regimen of exercise.

After he finished cleaning his weapon, Bartholomew put his feet up on a teak lounge chair and stared at the Atlantic Ocean, about 50 feet from his deck. He had paid $16 million for the house two years earlier. It boasted eight bedrooms, seven bathrooms, an indoor pool, a gym, and a billiards room. Bartholomew was a wealthy man and a widower. His fourth wife had died a year earlier in a yet-to-be-solved car accident in the Queens-Midtown Tunnel. She was on her way out to the beach house from their Manhattan condo, when her car apparently went out of control.

Bartholomew was a former vice president for Amazon. He loved working for the company, especially because of its devotion to intricate data. “Opinions are bullshit,” Bartholomew would often say. “Data is the only thing that matters.”

He was the CEO and majority shareholder of Midtown Metrics, a securities firm. The company was quite successful, and many commentators attributed it to the head man’s obsession with data. He also ran a successful hedge fund.

Bartholomew’s last name was Martin, but he seldom used it. His years at Amazon taught him the importance of charisma when you’re a leader of anything. To anyone who knew him, Bartholomew Martin was simply known as Bartholomew.

“James Ordin is here, Bartholomew,” said his assistant. Besides not using his last name unless necessary, he insisted that everyone call him Bartholomew, never Bart. James Ordin was one of his top aides. Ordin was also a former Amazon executive, and Bartholomew valued his devotion to numbers. Ordin was executive vice president of Midtown Metrics.

“So talk numbers to me, James.” Bartholomew preferred to call people by their proper names, never a nickname. If your name is James, he’d never call you Jim. Robert was Robert, William, William. It encourages discipline, something almost as important as data. Just a few of Bartholomew’s strict rules.

“They’re adding up beautifully, Bartholomew. From our six-month data point, the count is 726, and Metric Alpha is 37.”

“James, do you really think that’s beautiful?” he asked softly. Another of Bartholomew’s traits is to speak in a soft tone.

“Yes, it is if we look at the number in light of another set of data. Our target plan, adding up the total number of incidents to date, was 711, with Metric Alpha at 36. So the data tells us that we’re over 100 percent of efficiency.”

“Thank you, James. As usual you gave me what I want to hear, objective data. But we need the gross numbers for Metric Alpha to go up. The efficiency ratio is excellent as you point out, but we need to improve Metric Alpha, the leadership targets.”

“I met with Reginald yesterday, Bartholomew. What he has planned for in the next six months will drive the gross numbers for Metric Alpha through the roof.”

“Through the roof, James?”

“Sorry, Bartholomew, I meant to say ‘significantly higher.’ ”

“ ‘Significantly higher’ is much more appropriate than ‘through the roof,’ would you not agree, James?”

Bartholomew hated any trace of exaggeration. If an employee told him that “things are great,” he wouldn’t let the man leave the room until he described, with data, why he thought “things are great.”

“So tell me about our website tracking, James.”

“It’s fantastic.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“Sorry, Bartholomew. Let me give you the numbers. Of the 1,300 sites we’re tracking, we’ve successfully infiltrated 1,283. We’ve also gotten identities on 97 percent of the users.”

“How do we do that, James?”

“Part of it is easy. I find it unbelievable how many visitors disclose their identity, including

Facebook and Twitter user names. Some even put in their email addresses. These people account for 45 percent of the visitors.”

“And what about the other 55 percent?”

“Most get picked up by our algorithm.”

“And what percentage gets picked up by the algorithm?”

“Thirty percent at this point, but I remind you that we’re only in Phase One. As we continuously tweak the algorithm we’ll close in on the 100 percent mark.”

“When can we begin seeding the sites with our own posts?” Bartholomew asked.

“We’ve begun already, but we have to move cautiously to make sure our posts aren’t immediately targeted and taken down.”

“Of course. Well James, you’ve given me excellent data as I’ve learned to expect from you. I know you want to get back to the city, but you’re more than welcome to stay here if you wish.”

James would have loved to accept Bartholomew’s suggestion to stay at the lovely beach house, but, like most of his colleagues, James feared Bartholomew.

“Will I see you at the office, Monday, Bartholomew?”

“No, I’ll be away from Midtown Metrics for a few days, James. I’m sure you’ll keep things running smoothly.”

Bartholomew had a much bigger operation to run than Midtown Metrics.

Chapter 23

“Matt, this is freaking me out,” Diana said. She just called me from her office at the university. “Did you hear about the attack on that mosque in New York?”

“No, I haven’t heard a thing. I was interviewing a client.”

“Well, this morning 95 people were killed in a mosque,” Diana said. “It wasn’t a bombing, and there’s no evidence of a suicide. According to the news reports, it looked like a military operation. As many as five gunmen opened up on the crowd of people saying their morning prayers. An FBI spokesman wouldn’t say anything because the investigation just started. According to the guy on CNN, the mosque had a reputation as a center for radical sermons. Matt, our client’s words are ringing in my ears. Remember that Al said there’s a war going on? I think we just saw a battle.”

“Dee, do you think that so-called NFL group could be involved?”

“Well here’s what we know about them, at least what we know from Al. They’re not suicide types. When they pull off an attack, they want to live to fight on. The news said that the police were on the scene within two minutes of the 911 call. So these guys shot up a mosque and killed 95 people and were gone in an instant. This is one strange group, Matt.”

After Dee told me about this latest incident, my head went into overdrive. This NFL is a shadowy group of people, and my client is involved with them, if only on the periphery. Dee’s research showed that the other side of the war, the jihadi side, is quite serious about whacking dissenters. But now we learn that there’s a group that’s quite serious about whacking jihadis. My job, I keep reminding myself, is to represent a criminal defendant, a man who could get the death penalty if he’s convicted. What this weird anti-jihadi group could have to do with me representing Al Yamani I had no idea.

“Matt, do you think it’s time to go to the government?”

“The government? Do I have to remind you that the government is on the other side of
The People vs. Ali Yamani
? Our client is being prosecuted by the government. How can I talk to them?”

“Let’s think this through, Matt. Just like Al Yamani said, there’s a war going on, a war between the jihadis and this weird shadow group. Al and the other two bombing defendants are caught between them. If you talk to the government, I think it could help our client.”

“And who do you suggest I talk to, Dee? The prosecutor from the US Attorney’s office? He’ll just think that I’m trying to get him to drop the case. There’s something you need to know about prosecutors, especially ones who have political goals, which most of them do. They want to win prosecutions, and they don’t give a rat’s ass about the welfare of a defendant like our client.”

“I was thinking about somebody higher up than the prosecutor, a lot higher. I’m thinking about the Secretary of Homeland Security, our old friend Rick Bellamy. You and I helped him when he was head of the FBI Counterterrorism Task Force. We blew the lid off that S
ideswipe Conspiracy
. We helped him to prevent a bunch of nuclear attacks.”

“Good point, Dee. Rick trusts us, especially you.”

Dee and I have a lot of credibility with Rick Bellamy. He knows he can trust both of us. And I think I can trust him. If we meet with him I won’t be doing anything to hurt my client’s defense. Maybe he can even help me. Lawyering often involves a lot of risk taking.

“I think you’re right, babe. Rick will want to know about this case. What’s more important, he’ll listen to us. I’ll call him first thing in the morning. I’m sure that he’ll want us to go to Washington, or maybe to his New York office, so you may have to miss some classes.”

***

I called Rick Bellamy’s office in Washington.

“The Secretary will be with you in a moment, Mr. Blake.”

“Matt Blake, how are you my friend, and how’s your wonderful wife?”

“Diana is right next to me Mr. Secretary. If you don’t mind I’m putting the phone on speaker so she can be on the call.”

“Please, the name’s still Rick. No formalities with you two. So to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“To get right to the point, Rick, the matter we want to talk to you about directly involves the nation’s security. I represent a criminal defendant in a mall bombing case.”

“I take it you mean
The People vs. Ali Yamani
? I read in the newspapers that you were his attorney. That’s one bad boy you’re representing, Matt. I recall that about 61 people were killed and over 100 were injured in the bombing. I’ve been tracking this case. They have a thumbprint and even a video of the guy before the bomb went off. I hope you don’t want to see me about this case, Matt.”

“It’s a lot bigger than the
Yamani
case, Rick.”

“Remember the S
ideswipe Conspiracy
, Rick?” Diana said.

“How could I ever forget the
Sideswipe Conspiracy
? Diana, if it wasn’t for you our nation would have suffered the worst goddam disaster in history. Yes, I remember it well.”

Diana looked at me, with an expression that said,
Should I keep talking
? I nodded.

“Well, Rick, in the
Sideswipe
matter, nothing was what it appeared to be, including the ‘accidents’ that we discovered weren’t accidents at all. The
Yamani
case is a lot like that, and it’s not the only such matter.”

“I take it that you’re referring to the
Sidduq
case in New York and the
Almeth
case in San Francisco. Mall bombings, just like the case against your guy.”

I was always amazed at Rick Bellamy’s memory for details. The president couldn’t have picked a better guy for this job.

“Yes,” both Dee and I said.

“I want to have someone else at the meeting, folks. His name is Jack Logan, my successor as head of the FBI Counterterrorism Task Force. He’s been working on some cases with his wife Bonnie, a homicide detective with the NYPD. They’re good people, and sharp as hell.”

“Rick, would it be okay if we brought somebody else to the meeting?”

“I don’t see why not, but who?”

“Good old Bennie Weinberg, Rick. He’ll have a lot of input into what we’re going to talk about.”

“Dr. Bullshit Detector himself. It seems like you two want to convince me of something. Call Grace Andreotti, my assistant, to arrange for the details of when we’ll get together.”

Dee and I felt good about bringing the case to the federal government, not that the fed wasn’t already involved. But Rick Bellamy is a solid guy, and Homeland Security is a place that we needed to go.