Chapter 7: The Device Behind the Router
Grace arrived at the house forty minutes later with a man she introduced as Daniel Foss, a digital forensics consultant she had worked with before.
He crouched beside the shelf, examined the device without touching it, and took his own photographs from three angles.
"It's a continuous audio recorder," he said.
"Passive activation.
It records whenever there's sound in the room above a certain threshold." He stood up.
"This model holds approximately three hundred hours of audio before it needs to be offloaded.
Someone would need to physically collect it or connect to it wirelessly to retrieve the recordings."
"How long has it been there?" Grace asked.
"No way to know exactly without examining it.
But the dust pattern around it suggests it's been there for a while.
Months, not days."
I looked at the small red light.
"He was in this office," I said.
"Every time I took a call in here, he was listening."
Daniel looked at Grace.
"Do you want me to remove it and preserve it as evidence?"
"Yes," Grace said.
"Chain of custody.
Full documentation."
He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and carefully removed the device.
He placed it in a sealed evidence bag and labeled it with the date and time.
Grace turned to me.
"This is significant.
In this state, recording someone's private conversations without their consent is a violation of the wiretapping statute.
It's not a minor civil matter — it carries criminal penalties."
"Can we use it against him?"
"We can use it to neutralize everything he's built from those recordings.
And we can use it as leverage." She paused.
"More importantly, it exposes Crane.
If Crane knew the recording was obtained illegally and was planning to use it anyway, he has a serious professional conduct problem."
"My source said Crane knew the recording had problems."
"Then Crane may have known exactly what kind of problems." Grace looked at the empty shelf where the device had been.
"We're not playing defense anymore."
She called her office from the hallway and spoke for ten minutes.
When she came back, her expression was settled.
"Here's what happens next," she said.
"Daniel files his forensic report.
I send a formal letter to Crane tomorrow morning disclosing that we've recovered the recording device, that we're aware of the recording's legal status, and that we are prepared to file a complaint with the state bar and refer the matter to the district attorney's office if Anthony does not withdraw all claims within forty-eight hours."
"You think he'll fold?"
"I think Crane will fold.
His license is worth more than Anthony's settlement." She picked up her bag.
"Anthony is a different question.
He may not fold quietly."
She was right.
The next morning, Grace sent the letter at nine o'clock.
By eleven, Phillip Crane had withdrawn from the case.
By noon, Anthony was calling my cell phone directly.
I didn't answer.
He called four more times.
Then he sent a text message.
*You want to destroy me.
Fine.
But you should know I talked to your biggest client last week.
Hargrove Industries.
I told them the business was in financial trouble.
I told them you'd been mismanaging funds.*
I read it twice.
Then I forwarded it to Grace with one line: *He contacted Hargrove.*
Her reply came in two minutes: *Screenshot and preserve everything.
Do not respond.
I'll call you in one hour.*
I set the phone face-down on the desk.
Hargrove Industries was not a client of the insolvent operating company.
May you like
Hargrove was a client of the holding company — the one Anthony didn't know existed.
But if he had called them, if he had said those words to them directly, he had just made a very different kind of mistake.
