Read Final Victim (1995) for Free Online Page A

complicated the mix by hanging a model of a Grumman Sky-hawk with a ten-foot wingspan from wires in the middle of the main room. But it didn't matter, because most of the people in the Cellar were serious drinkers and seldom looked up.
    It had taken Karen about four hours to decide that maybe Lockwood could be a blessing in disguise. He had invited her for an after-work cocktail, which was pretty much a Washington tradition. Most of the important business in D . C . eventually got done in bedrooms or bars. Although she was determined to stay out of his bedroom, she was hoping a few shooters would make an offbeat idea she had seem attractive to him. The Norwegian computer had caught her interest. One thing that always got Karen's motor revving was being flipped off by anybody.
    The Pennet Systems Administrator had dissed her, and now she wa s e ven more determined to crack the system. Lockwood might hold a key.
    The Cellar was near the U . S . Customs building, so there were a lot of friendly faces as they walked in and found a booth in the bar. He ordered a Scotch shooter and a beer back. To promote bonding, she had the same, and they sat for a long moment looking at each other.
    "You're very persuasive. I don't know why I came," she finally said disingenuously, wondering how to broach her question in a way that would encourage him to sign on.
    "You're shooting my tender self-esteem in the heart."
    "Come on, Lockwood, I've heard of you. You're a one-man Internal Affairs project," she said, choosing a direction. "How many IA investigations have you been through in the last year and a half?"
    "I stopped counting."
    "I heard five," she said, hitting the exact number.
    The fact was, there had been three weeks last August when all he did was work with his A . G .-appointed lawyer on his growing list of Internal Affairs citations. He had offended most of the Washington, D . C ., IA silks in general, and Vic Kulack in particular. Almost as this thought struck him, he saw Kulack lumber through the door, with two vertical columns of shit who also worked on the fifth floor. Kulack rolled his shoulders when he walked. It was bad John Wayne. He was big but doughy. It amazed Lockwood how anybody could make a career out of trying to destroy the careers of others. For his money, Internal Affairs was a division loaded with nosebleeds and bend-ovens who had to prove that their own low agency test scores were nothing more than unfortunate accidents. Jealousy of competence was the fuel that drove them.
    "I think those guys in IA suck," she said, picking up his exact thought.
    "Why do you want to get into Pennet?" he finally asked, one eye still on Kulack, who went into the other room with his friends and took a table out of sight.
    "The only thing that a remailer computer offers to its customers is anonymity. Pennet is a gathering place for sexual deviates. Pedophiles and necrophiliacs chat on that service regularly."
    "Naaaaaw," he said, dragging it out.
    "You asked me a question. I'm trying to answer you. Are you always such a wiseguy or do you ever have a serious moment?"
    "I'm working off a disappointment. I got broomed off my Global Airlines case this morning," he said, wondering instantly why he'd told her that. "So, you figured to go lurking in that computer and see if you could pick off a hot one?"
    "That's about the size of it. But I'm shot down. I'll never get through that blocking system. I get three chances at three passwords, then I'm locked out for ninety days. Even if I change computers, I'll be using a walker by the time I penetrate it. What I need is a great cracker."
    "Probably right. You could use a guy who jacks these things for a living. . . . One of those cyber-thieves could probably break through that Pennet blocking device in minutes."
    "Like who?" she asked, her eyes on him.
    "I don't know. I'm not a subscriber to Cyberworld. You find somebody."
    "How about Malavida Chacone . . . ?" she asked.
    Instantly he looked up