nearly life changing. He would not have quit his job had he not been expecting a huge upcoming payoff, or at least the prospect of continued payments on the level he had been getting them. Fifty grand every month or so definitely would reduce the incentive to keep saying, “What will it take to put you in this 2006 Chevy Malibu today?”
The money was real, even if it seemed to come from nowhere. Maybe it was money that provoked Sheryl Harrison enough to kill her husband, but Novack instinctively didn’t think so. Although he did consider it quite possible that the money was the reason Charlie died.
Charlie did something for that money, and the payment schedule made it likely that he kept doing it. Finding out what he did, six years earlier, was not going to be easy, and the truth was that Novack really didn’t know where to begin.
Then he remembered one of the curious things about this very curious case. In Charlie Harrison’s wallet when he died was that fake ID. Novack had no idea whether or not it had anything to do with the case, but chasing it down had one major advantage to it.
It gave him something to do.
Nolan Murray was a football fan. For a time he thought of himself as a football player, and even tried to be a walk-on for Rutgers, the year before he dropped out. A few scrimmages against the first team defense convinced him his future was not on the gridiron.
Nolan had the mind for the game; he had the mind for pretty much any game ever invented. He just didn’t have the physical skills, and he was smart enough to know it.
The first thing he had learned from his high school coach, the first thing every quarterback had to know, was that he had to see the whole field. He had to know where every player was, on both teams, and where they were likely to go. In short, he had to be completely aware.
Nolan Murray was completely aware, not on the football field anymore, but in his work. He was able to see everything, and that was important, because to stretch the football analogy a bit, he was about to compete in the criminal equivalent of the Super Bowl.
For instance, Nolan knew that Novack had reopened the case; he knew it within moments of Novack turning on his computer. He knew that he was investigating Charlie Harrison’s life, and that he had discovered the wire transfers.
With the resources of the government at Novack’s disposal, Nolan also was aware that he would discover, if he hadn’t already, that Cintron Industries didn’t exist. Unless Novack was incompetent, and Nolan knew that he wasn’t, the cop would understand that the payments Harrison received were on some level tied into his death.
But Novack would never get to the bottom of this. He wouldn’t have been able to if he had the six years, and now he had barely three weeks. After that it wouldn’t matter what he learned; the mission would have already been accomplished, and Nolan would have disappeared with an almost unimaginable amount of money.
Nolan was the type to make a decision and move on, rather than replay it over and over again in his mind. But the way he got to this place was a combination of brains and luck that would change the world.
Two years ago, almost to the day, he was out with his girlfriend in a bar. Actually, “girlfriend” might not be the word many people would use, since the relationship for Nolan was totally about sex. He had no desire to be open or emotionally available or intimate or any of the things a real relationship generally called for.
It happened that the “girlfriend” met another friend in the bar that night, who in turn had just met a guy who was clearly smitten with her. He lived outside of Philadelphia, and was in town visiting friends for the weekend. They all got to talking, and when the man, Stan Wollner, mentioned where he worked, the idea hit Nolan square between the eyes.
From there it was surprisingly easy. He hacked into the young woman’s Facebook account, and in
The money was real, even if it seemed to come from nowhere. Maybe it was money that provoked Sheryl Harrison enough to kill her husband, but Novack instinctively didn’t think so. Although he did consider it quite possible that the money was the reason Charlie died.
Charlie did something for that money, and the payment schedule made it likely that he kept doing it. Finding out what he did, six years earlier, was not going to be easy, and the truth was that Novack really didn’t know where to begin.
Then he remembered one of the curious things about this very curious case. In Charlie Harrison’s wallet when he died was that fake ID. Novack had no idea whether or not it had anything to do with the case, but chasing it down had one major advantage to it.
It gave him something to do.
Nolan Murray was a football fan. For a time he thought of himself as a football player, and even tried to be a walk-on for Rutgers, the year before he dropped out. A few scrimmages against the first team defense convinced him his future was not on the gridiron.
Nolan had the mind for the game; he had the mind for pretty much any game ever invented. He just didn’t have the physical skills, and he was smart enough to know it.
The first thing he had learned from his high school coach, the first thing every quarterback had to know, was that he had to see the whole field. He had to know where every player was, on both teams, and where they were likely to go. In short, he had to be completely aware.
Nolan Murray was completely aware, not on the football field anymore, but in his work. He was able to see everything, and that was important, because to stretch the football analogy a bit, he was about to compete in the criminal equivalent of the Super Bowl.
For instance, Nolan knew that Novack had reopened the case; he knew it within moments of Novack turning on his computer. He knew that he was investigating Charlie Harrison’s life, and that he had discovered the wire transfers.
With the resources of the government at Novack’s disposal, Nolan also was aware that he would discover, if he hadn’t already, that Cintron Industries didn’t exist. Unless Novack was incompetent, and Nolan knew that he wasn’t, the cop would understand that the payments Harrison received were on some level tied into his death.
But Novack would never get to the bottom of this. He wouldn’t have been able to if he had the six years, and now he had barely three weeks. After that it wouldn’t matter what he learned; the mission would have already been accomplished, and Nolan would have disappeared with an almost unimaginable amount of money.
Nolan was the type to make a decision and move on, rather than replay it over and over again in his mind. But the way he got to this place was a combination of brains and luck that would change the world.
Two years ago, almost to the day, he was out with his girlfriend in a bar. Actually, “girlfriend” might not be the word many people would use, since the relationship for Nolan was totally about sex. He had no desire to be open or emotionally available or intimate or any of the things a real relationship generally called for.
It happened that the “girlfriend” met another friend in the bar that night, who in turn had just met a guy who was clearly smitten with her. He lived outside of Philadelphia, and was in town visiting friends for the weekend. They all got to talking, and when the man, Stan Wollner, mentioned where he worked, the idea hit Nolan square between the eyes.
From there it was surprisingly easy. He hacked into the young woman’s Facebook account, and in
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