The Broken Window

civil and criminal penalties.”
    Sam Brockton offered, “And believe me, we will pursue all remedies available to us.”
    “You can’t do this,” Geddes said, angry. His eyes shone and sweat dotted his dark face.
    Sterling counted the computers in Rhyme’s lab. There were twelve. “Which one has the Compliance dossier that Mark sent you, Captain?”
    “I forget.”
    “Did you make any copies?”
    Rhyme smiled. “Always back up your data. And store it in a separate, secure location. Off site. Isn’t that the message of the new millennium?”
    Brockton said, “We’ll just get another order to confiscate everything and search all the servers you’ve uploaded data to.”
    “But that’ll take time and money. And who knows what could happen in the meantime? E-mails or envelopes might get sent to the press, say. Accidentally, of course. But it could happen.”
    “This has been a very trying time for everyone, Mr. Rhyme,” Sterling said. “No one’s in the mood for games.”
    “We’re not playing games,” Rhyme said evenly. “We’re negotiating.”
    The CEO gave what appeared to be his first genuine smile. He was on his home turf now and he pulled up a chair next to Rhyme. “What do you want?”
    “I’ll give you everything. No court battles, no press.”
    “No!” Geddes was enraged. “How can you cave in?”
    Rhyme ignored the activist as efficiently as Sterling did and continued, “Provided you get my associates’ records cleared up.” He explained about Sellitto’s drug test and Pulaski’s wife.
    “I can do that,” Sterling said as if it were no more trouble than turning up the volume on a TV.
    Sachs said, “And you have to fix Robert Jorgensen’s life too.” She told him about how 522 had virtually destroyed the man.
    “Give me the details and I’ll make sure it’s taken care of. He’ll have a clean slate.”
    “Good. As soon as everything’s cleared up you’ll have what you want. And nobody will see a single piece of paper or file about your Compliance operation. I give you my word.”
    “No, you have to fight it!” Geddes said bitterly to Rhyme. “Every time you don’t stand up to them, everybody loses.”
    Sterling turned to him and said in a voice just a few decibels above a whisper, “Calvin, let me tell you something. I lost three good friends in the Trade Towers on September eleventh. Four more were badly burned. Their lives’ll never be the same. And our country lost thousands of innocent citizens. My company had the technology to find some of the hijackers and the predictive software to figure out what they were going to do. We— I —could have prevented the whole tragedy. And I regret every single day that I didn’t.”
    He shook his head. “Oh, Cal. You and your black-and-white politics. . . . Don’t you see: That ’s what SSD is about. Not about the thought police kicking in your door at midnight because they don’t like what you and your girlfriend are doing in bed or arresting you because you bought a book about Stalin or the Koran or because you criticized the President. The mission of SSD is to guarantee that you’re free and safe to enjoy the privacy of your home and to buy and read and say whatever you want to. If you’re blown up by a suicide bomber in Times Square, you won’t have any identity to protect.”
    “Spare us the lectures, Andrew,” Geddes raged.
    Brockton said, “Cal, if you don’t calm down, you’re going to find yourself in a lot of trouble.”
    Geddes gave a cold laugh. “We’re already in a lot of trouble. Welcome to the brave new world. . . .” The man spun around and stormed out. The front door slammed.
    Brockton said, “I’m glad you understand, Lincoln. Andrew Sterling is doing very good things. We’re all safer because of it.”
    “I’m so happy to hear it.”
    Brockton missed the irony entirely. But Andrew Sterling didn’t. He was, after all, the man who knew everything. But his reaction was a humorous, self-assured smile—as if he knew that the lectures eventually got through to people, even if they didn’t appreciate the message just yet. “Good-bye, Detective Sachs, Captain. Oh, and you too, Officer Pulaski.” He glanced wryly at the young cop. “I’ll miss seeing you around the halls. But if you want to spend any more time honing your computer skills, our conference room’ll always be available to you.”
    “Well, I . . .”
    Andrew Sterling gave him a wink and turned. He and his