Once we step across the threshold, I proceed with removing my shoes, wincing, as I watch him taking in my space.The configuration is a slightly odd one, probably because this floor used to be one home and someone came along decades ago and split it into three apartments.I suspect someone came along more recently and tore down some of the walls, leaving me with a short entry hall that opens into a much larger living area, with another hall that leads to two bedrooms with a bathroom at the end.The small kitchen is bigger than many in Manhattan, but there’s another hallway that leads to a small room.I liked the place for the high ceilings, spacious and plentiful windows, and the fact there’s no fire escape leading into the apartment from the outside, leaving only one exit point, if one doesn’t count the two-foot-thick walls.(I do.I always count the walls as emergency exit points.)
I pad barefoot, heels dangling from one finger, and join him where he stares at the blank wall in my living area.
“No television?”
“One day I’ll put a piece of art there.If I watch television, I usually watch on my laptop.”
“I take it you don’t possess a media room?”
I bite back an amused smile.“Have you visited many Manhattan apartments?”
“Fair point.”He taps the tip of my nose.“So you may not be an art curator but you’re an art lover.As such, what would you choose to fill the void?”
It’s an interesting word choice.Void.As if he can see the negative space I live around.
“The room is perfectly styled.Comfortable furnishings, a creamy soft rug, muted colors to imbue a soothing environment, and you’ve left this space open, awaiting something…what do you see?”
He’s not wrong.I’ve envisioned the art hanging in a white oak frame, but the piece I envision would be expansive and likely challenging to move.And my tastes change.
Instead of getting pulled into a discussion of local artists and the pieces I’m considering, knowing we’re now in my home, that we can now talk freely, I say, “Moira Kelly.”The name tastes metallic on my tongue.“Ring any bells?”
He studies me, thoughtful, but I sense he’s more surprised by my change of subject than the name.
“No.Is that who Eddie met in the park?”
“She’s a former MI5 operative turned private intelligence broker.It’s not who Eddie met with in the park, but we identified the woman he met with and she’s widely believed to work for Moira Kelly.”
I tap on my phone, accessing the KOAN portal and the file, then the photo.He takes the phone from me, enlarging the photo with his fingers.
“Kelly is widely known to be a broker of information.Corporate competitors, foreign intelligence services, political operatives.Based on this, it would seem Eddie doesn’t sell directly to the extortionists, rather he’s selling raw intelligence to brokers.”
“Plural?”
“Kelly represents one entity.We suspect that if he realizes his commodity is valuable, he shops it.He’s got quite the setup.”
“Jesus.”He rests a thigh against the back of my sofa and hands the phone back to me.“I recognize her.”
“You do?”I take the phone from him, looking at the photo of Moira Kelly for the hundredth time.She’s in her seventies but stunning in a Helen Mirren way.Time has been kind to her, leaving her silver-streaked shoulder length hair and elegant poise, even when in line at an event.The photo had been taken outside of a London theatrical premiere—a red carpet of convenient associates.With the right AI, threads tie themselves; you simply choose which to pull.This photo and so many others over decades.A connective task that might have taken weeks but with the help of our analysis algorithms, we achieved in hours.
“She attends the seasonal fashion shows.Milan.Paris.I don’t believe I’ve ever been introduced to her, but I recognize her.”He’s thoughtful.“Following Eddie, tracing this back to a broker, that’s not going to help the senator is it?You’re no closer to finding the extortionist.”
“Oh, we are.”You just don’t see the snare yet.
“What’s the plan?To ask Moira Kelly who the buyer is?I can’t imagine she could give that information out without committing career suicide.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”This isn’t a leak; it’s a business model.
He squints, tilting his head, communicating in that debonair way he possesses that he believes he gets it, but he doesn’t.
“This is bigger than that one threat.It’s about weaponizing information.If you kick Eddie out, they’ll send someone else in, and that employee will take steps to avoid getting caught that Eddie didn’t take.”
“Maybe, but…it’s one source.I need to shut it down on my end.I have a responsibility to the membership.”
“Give us time.A week.”
“And what about you?What are you doing chasing this down?Is this Moira Kelly woman… Are her people dangerous?I have this vision of you going through the streets at night with a gun in hand.”
I hold up my shoes, grinning.“And a knife tucked in the heel, or blades on the sole that eject when thrown?”
