CHAPTER 21

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I was always up early so after a quick breakfast I cruised into the office lot in my rental. I was at my desk working out my travel arrangements when Cara poked her head in, starting the week as she always did. "Have a good weekend?"

"You know very well I did. Come in with your pad once you're settled in. Get coffee first, if you want." She returned about twenty minutes later.

"Okay, I want you to send Chuck, Vince, Ali, and Sergei out to Columbus to get the Ohio project underway. Set them up with a good hotel, hopefully near the state office buildings—separate rooms—and tell them to charge all their meals and a reasonable number of drinks to their rooms. Make sure that the hotel saves a room for me. I don't yet know when I'll go out there. I have something I have to take care of first."

"Business or pleasure?"

"I'm not sure yet, although it might turn out to be pleasurable. We'll see." I suddenly had another thought and smiled wryly.

"Ah…Daisy," she said with a smile. She was just about to leave when she turned to me. "I'm really glad you had a good time. I know I did and so did Sara. You're enough to make me rethink my long-term plans and I would if not for my sister. I think she's falling for you. You should have heard her talking for hours last night."

"I thought about her a lot, too. She's a wonderful person…kind of like her sister." Then I shooed her out to work. The first thing I did was check on the various ways to get to Springfield in western Massachusetts. Flying was out of the question. I couldn't find a direct flight unless I drove to LaGuardia, something I hesitated to do. I hated city traffic. In the end I decided to take the ferry from Port Jefferson to Bridgeport, Connecticut. From there the drive was less than ninety minutes. The only question was when.

That was pretty much settled when the Toyota salesman called me. I could pick up my car any time. My check had already been cleared. I placed an important phone call then left work early to drop the rental off at Islip MacArthur Airport where I grabbed a cab up to Smithtown, a ride of less than ten miles. I arrived just after four and an hour later I had been briefed by the salesman and my plates were on the new car. I even had my new registration. I resolved to leave tomorrow—Tuesday afternoon, having an important errand to run first.

I tied up some loose ends early Tuesday morning, telling Cara I would be back in the office as soon as I could before driving first to Great Neck and then in the opposite direction to the ferry terminal in nearby Port Jefferson. I had a reservation for the 2:00 p.m. trip. Arriving early gave me the opportunity to grab a quick lunch, returning just in time to load my new Toyota into the lower deck. My car was wedged between the starboard side and a large truck. Once it was locked I walked upstairs to the rear deck where I sat in the bright afternoon sun. I returned to the car just over an hour later as we pulled into Bridgeport harbor. First on, first off; I was on my way less than five minutes after docking. Ninety minutes later I pulled into the parking lot at the Springfield Marriott.

I relaxed in my ninth floor room, looking out over the city's skyline, not that it was anything like New York or Chicago. Still, I found the view interesting. I spent a few minutes emailing Sara as I had promised. I read the one she had sent me yesterday in response. She told me that she missed me terribly. I felt even better knowing that.

I had some time before dinner so I checked the yellow pages on my phone, finding what I wanted in only a few minutes. Rushing into the lobby, I asked for directions and was pleased when they provided an area map. Twenty minutes later I pulled into the lot at the Cyber Exchange and fifteen minutes after that I had a brand new refurbished laptop. Why, you ask, would I, a computer PhD. want a piece of used junk that was almost obsolete? It was a critical part of my plan. I paid cash, buying in the name of Margaret O'Neill. Once I was in the area of their home I could access their wi-fi and do my dastardly best to ruin her life. Now, we all know that home wi-fi is password protected, right? Think of that protection as being locked on a home's doors. They are intended to keep honest people honest, but anyone who is a professional cyber criminal would have no problems at all defeating them. The same can be said for most home alarm systems.

I returned to my room where I left the computer. I wasn't worried about theft. I had only paid $149 plus tax, turning down the extended warranty. I'd have no use for it by week's weekend. After checking out the menus I walked into the sports bar. Sitting at the bar I ordered a Philly cheese steak sandwich and a draft Stella. It was a Tuesday so I wasn't expecting the restaurant to be very crowded, but I was amazed that it was practically deserted. The bartender spent most of my time there chatting with me. She was a fine looking woman with a great figure and I might have shown some interest had I not spent the weekend with Sara. Instead, I paid cash and tipped generously before returning to my room where I checked out the internet capabilities of my new laptop.

I was up early the following morning and after breakfast I drove straight to the State Street headquarters of the bank where Daisy's father was an executive vice president. I strode right through the customer area to the elevators at the rear. I got off at the third floor and stepped up to the receptionist who, I was sure, was more accustomed to seeing businessmen in suits, instead of a man who was dressed casually in jeans, a plaid shirt, and a navy cardigan sweater. "I'd like to see Thomas O'Neill."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No," I replied, handing her my business card that identified me as John M. Gotti, PhD, President and CEO of Tritech, Inc. "But, I'm sure he'll see me." She gave me the once-over then retreated into the office. My erstwhile father-in-law walked out to greet me less than five minutes later.

"John, I must admit I'm surprised. Please come into my office." He shook my hand and led me to his doorway.

"I suggest you close the door, Tom." He did, but his face showed his obvious confusion.

"What's this about, John?"

"Do you have an interest in reclaiming your life? I heard a phone call from Margaret to Daisy in which Margaret described the things she's done to you in the most lurid and disgusting detail. I know all about the cock cage—she sent one just like it to Daisy to use on me—and I know about the beatings…the shocks, too. I came here to see if you wanted my help to gain your freedom."

"But…how?"

"First, I have a Steelwerks key from the cage I destroyed so I'm sure I can get you out of yours. Margaret told Daisy they were identical. Do you have access to money?"

"No…all of the money, all of the investments are in her name."

"Where does she have it?"

"The cash is mostly in this bank because I get free accounts here, but they are in her name only."

"That's no problem. What about investments?"

"Margaret has accounts with Vanguard, Fidelity, and T. Rowe Price, primarily. Total comes to about three million, but I can't get to it. Here at the bank she has more than a million in certificates of deposit. Most of them go back to when we had real interest rates."

"Tom, if you want my help I can guarantee that you can and will get to it—all of it. Is Daisy living with you?"

"No…the probation department in New York wouldn't let her leave the state. She's living now in someplace called BayShore. Know where that is?"

"Yeah, I do. Do you have a passport?"

"Yes, but Margaret has it in her safe."

"Can you get it if you have to?"

"I suppose; we're merging with a bank in Canada so I might have to travel there."

"Okay, let's put a plan together. I have an idea of how to proceed, but we'll need to work out the particulars." And that's what we did over the next hour. Then we went to lunch where we discussed the other part of my plan—how I could expand into Europe and his possible role in that effort. He was obviously impressed by the product and client list, eagerly agreeing to my plan before we returned to his office. Doing some business would mean that I'd have a viable justification for being in Springfield. He agreed to pass my firm's prospectus up the line to the CEO with his recommendation.