Stone leaned forward and picked up a pen. “How do you spell ‘Shazaz’?” he asked, and wrote it down.
“That’s some kind of code or signal,” Harp said. “I Googled Mo Shazaz: there wasn’t much on him, but I found out that Mo is short for Mohammad. That worried me. I know enough about communication among cells—spies or terrorists—that the messages probably meant that agents were in place and ready to do something. This whole thing smells of fish: the way the girl recruited Jimmy, the lack of a written proposal, the big promises, and the empty offices. Mo may not even be in this country. He could be anywhere.”
“I’m feeling pretty dumb,” Jimmy said.
“You’re going to be fine,” Herbie said. “Don’t worry, Mark wants you back at work.”
“That’s a relief,” Jimmy said.
“So you never met Mo at all?” Stone asked.
“No.”
“Where does his sister live?”
“She was pretty much living with me for a couple of weeks,” Jimmy replied. “She said she had an apartment on the Upper East Side, but I never went there. All I had for contact was a cell number.”
“And what is that number?” Stone asked, then wrote it down. “Something bothers me,” he said.
“What’s that?” Harp asked.
“Why would Mo want somebody at Jimmy’s proficiency level to set up this chain of websites?” Stone asked. “I don’t know all that much about it, but it sounds like the sort of thing that a bright college student could do.”
“Well,” Jimmy said, “not to get too technical on you, but he wanted a lot of safeguards against penetration. It was the sort of thing a high-tech security company might do for him. He said there were other things he wanted me to do, too, things that would lead to software products I could develop for the new company.”
“I see,” Stone said, though he didn’t, really. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Mo and Jasmine?”
“No,” Jimmy said.
“I can run down the cell number,” Harp said. “Give me the day for that.”
“All right,” Stone said, “leave this with me, and I’ll run it past some people I know. Jimmy, you’d better go talk to Mark and get back to work.”
“I’ll do that,” Jimmy said.
“I’ll run you down there,” Harp said. “And, Stone, I’ll get back to you with what I find on the cell number. I’d like to speak to Jasmine, myself.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do that,” Stone said. “Not until I’ve checked out some things.”
“She and her brother will be wondering where Jimmy is,” Harp said. “He doesn’t have an apartment anymore, so it won’t be easy to find him.”
“Yeah. I just want to know as much as I can before Jimmy calls Jasmine again.”
“I understand,” Harp said. “Jimmy, you shouldn’t answer your cell phone. In fact, give it to me, and I’ll get you another one this morning.”
Jimmy gave her the phone, and they all left.
Stone called Mike Freeman. “Mike,” he said, “something weird has happened.”
26
Mike Freeman hung up the phone and called his contact at the NSA.
“Scott Hipp.”
“Scott, it’s Mike Freeman. I just came by some information I thought you ought to have.”
“I’m always happy to have more information, Mike.”