Peter Andrews’ piece on Pete Campbell – Week 03
8/5/2005 00:09
It was a quiet week in the City. The summer heat had driven people to romantic seaside locations; the City was empty. August is unbearable inSan Francisco
It was a quiet week in the City. The summer heat had driven people to romantic seaside locations; the City was empty. August is unbearable in
I'm
Pete Campbell, your trusty, friendly computer guru. I do security work, mostly
for small companies that want to ensure their intellectual property isn't
bit-hopping out the door. The larger companies can afford their own staff, but
occasionally I perform a second opinion analysis for one of them. Who's
guarding the watch-dogs is a valid question in my line of work. I have good
contacts in the larger corporations and their referrals keep me in business.
That's one benefit of my earlier life.
I
did my thirty years of service starting with the NSA and then another
government organization whose name I'm not allowed to mention. My talent is in
computers, specifically getting into and out of them without anyone else
knowing. Sometimes I am preventing hacking and sometimes I'm the hacker. What
do ex covert people do when they retire? Conspiracy freaks think they all get
bumped off to keep them quiet. Well, not me. I'm still doing what I do so well,
but privately I get $1,000 a day and expenses.
It's
never as exciting as you might think. Employees sending insider stock tips to
their rich uncle, early disclosure of quarterly profits, usually the worst is
pre-release of R&D results about a new product. I don't bother with the
porno site visits, the e-mails to lovers by married men, the gossipy grape-vine
of corporate life. I get paid to close the loop-holes that affect the corporate
bottom line.
I
was thinking about whether I could afford an air-conditioner in my little
office. Making a thousand a day sounds like a lot but it goes fast when you're
running a business and I have this habit of eating well. My office is a small
hole-in-the-wall. I got a government parachute payment but I wouldn't call it
golden, not after thirty years. I used it to outfit this office and I signed a
ten-year lease. I'm on the fourth floor of the Monadnack building on the corner
of Market and Montgomery
I
put thoughts of an air-conditioner aside when the phone rang. It was John
Cuckney, one of those well-positioned CEO's I mentioned. No, he didn't have
anything for me, but he had this friend. The friend, Andrew Eisner, owned and
ran a small renewable energy company, 21st Century Energy. He had asked John if
he knew someone with discretion, who could check out his wife's home computer.
He thinks it is being hacked. John is a good friend and gives me several
referrals a year.
John
gave me Andrew Eisner's private number, but when I punched it in, I still got a
receptionist type person. “Hello, I'm Pete Campbell, a friend of John Cuckney,
calling for Andrew Eisner.”
“Just
a minute please, while I see if he's in,” was the reply. “You're lucky; Mr.
Eisner is available for a few minutes.”
“Who
is this please?” came the cautious opening.
“Pete
Campbell. John Cuckney passed your name and number through to me and I'd be
happy to help you if I am able.”
“Well,
… okay … Could we meet for lunch?” Eisner said, somewhat hesitantly.
“Okay,
how about Enrico's on Broadway in North
Beach
“How
will I know you, Mr. Campbell?”
“I'm
a white male, 54, long curly brown hair, tall, 6'-3” and reedy looking, 175
pounds. White wool slacks and an Hawaiian shirt with Mai Tai's on it. I have
the look of a bicyclist, because I am one and will have my bike with me at an
outside corner table. That's my red carnation.”
There
was silence at the other end while Andrew Eisner tried to digest this onslaught
on information. “I'm wearing a blue pin-striped suit and a plain grey tie, but
I guess I'll recognize you first.”
* * *
Enrico's
is a favorite luncheon spot of mine. It is a sidewalk café and I can watch the
pretty girls walk by on Broadway and Montgomery, hookers and hippies, pimps and
poets, all in outrageous clothing. I took a small table out on the sidewalk. A
swishy waiter came right over and gave me an inquisitive look about the
bicycle. I don't usually drink gin, but this was the right drink for a hot day.
"Tanqueray and tonic, please, … tall." A creature of habit, I always
had the same thing at Enrico's in the summer, a Salisbury steak on sourdough,
and two tall gin and tonics, one before and one with the meal.
Andrew
Eisner was easy to spot; he stuck out like a sore thumb, briefcase in one hand,
cell phone in the other, talking heatedly while scanning the crowd for me. North Beach
“Ah,
Mr. Campbell?”
“Yes,
I've already ordered a drink. Do you want something before lunch?”
“No,
I'll just be having bottled water with my meal. Look, I can't spare too much
time. I've got an important client meeting at 2:00 pm, so let me get right to
business.” Andrew looked the businessman type. A slightly unhealthy pallor to
his skin coming from being in fluorescent-lighted rooms too much. Still, I
would guess him to be slightly under forty, not too old for a mid-life crisis;
maybe a shiksa on the side?
Our
waiter had shown up again and I ordered my gourmet hamburger and another
G&T. Andrew ordered a Caesar Salad and a large bottle of Evian. When the
waiter left, Andrew told me his story.
“I
think my wife's home computer might be hacked or bugged or something. There
have been a few strange e-mails and the thing has been acting funny and
crashing at odd times. Neither of us are computer whizzes, so I need an expert
to tell me if there's a problem. The reason I need someone like you, is
discretion. My wife, Jackie, is well known around the City. She's on the boards
of many Civic organizations. Hers is a prestigious family name, and by the way,
she still uses her maiden name, Jackie Thorne. There is always the fear of
kidnapping or extortion but what I am concerned about is her name getting mixed
up in anything sordid or having to do with the police. I don't want her to even
know you are going to look into her computer things.”
Our
food had arrived a few minutes ago and I was savouring my ground Sirloin Tip
and had started my second G&T. Andrew had only dabbled with his salad.
“What
would you like me to do, Mr. Eisner?” I asked.
“Jackie's
going to be out of town for the weekend. I was hoping you could come by my
house; say around ten in the morning. I have an eleven o'clock tee time at
Stanford, but I can let you in and show you where everything is. You can let
yourself out when you're done. She won't be able to tell you've looked at her
computer, will she? I don't want to alarm her if there's nothing bad going on.
Will this check be okay as a retainer?” It was for $5,000 and it was fine.
* * *
I
got on the bike and began coasting down the hill to my office on Market Street
“Hey
GiGi, you up for a ride along Highway 1, down to Half Moon Bay? We can stop and
eat dinner at Sushi Main Street
“Sure,
pick me up at my place? What bike are you going to ride?”
“You
know me; I don't like to work too hard. I'll take the Dutch Koga, everything's
automated. It'll be nice to cool off by the ocean and get out of this heat. Ready
in an hour?”
“Okay,
see you at 4:30. You call Hirohito and let him know we're coming.”
* * *
I
hung up and closed up the office. I just had time to stop in to my apartment
for a change of clothes and to switch bikes. The Koga-Miyata would be just fine
in the City, but it looks as expensive as it is. Short of a bullet, there'd be
no way to keep thieves from trying to steal it. The Zero on the other hand was
a third the cost and looked cheaper than it was. It looked sort of hokey
without a chain and sprockets. Still, I keep my bikes with me where ever I go,
and I pick places where bikes are welcome. Hirohito, the owner of the Sushi
place in Half Moon Bay, allows me to park my bike in his office.
When
I moved to San Francisco
My
apartment is just as anonymous; it's on Telegraph Place Greenwich Child Street Telegraph Place Coit
Tower
You
can see the Golden Gate and the Bay
Bridge Golden Gate on the right,
the rightmost ten feet housing an enclosed garden area. I have set up a bar
table at the junction of these two vistas and you look right at the Fairmont
Hotel; when the fog rolls into town from the West, it is an awesome sight.
To
get to the bathroom, which is outside, you have to walk across another garden
area, with no roof, just a graveled area on the old roof. The sleeping loft is
up a ladder into an attic area. It also has large windows, West and East, and
it is through these that you get the best views of the bridges. A more romantic
moment can not be found than with a warm friend, sipping a Saralee's vineyard
Pinot, maybe a 2000 Wild Hog, and listening to the sound of the fog horns,
lowing on a foggy night, baa-whoo-upp, baa-whoo-upp.
* * *
Gisela
lives out in the Avenues on 38th, just off Balboa. It's close to Golden Gate Park Germany Great Highway
Germans
are thought of as hard-working, level-headed, and focused. Well, there was
Hitler and his crew, so that's only a generalization. Gisela keeps me
level-headed and focused. My natural tendency is to go off on
Obsessive-Compulsive benders. She's the one that insisted, when I retired, that
I stay in shape and not balloon out like most men do, into bowling pins. My
work is mostly cerebral, so I didn't need to train as a martial arts person,
boxer or weight-lifter. Bicycling killed two birds with one stone; I kept fit
and anonymous. There is the added advantage that it's a great pick-up line at
the Washington Square Bar and Grill. You're at one fell swoop environmentally
conscious, and have strong legs and abs of steel.
Riding
along Highway 1 and the Pacific Ocean at 16-18
miles an hour is not conducive to talking. First, the scenery is awesome; clear
blue sky, pristine rocky cliffs and beaches with the pounding surf of the
Pacific throwing wave after wave of white-cap surf over the rocks and beaches.
The second thing was the brisk, oxygen-laden, and salty, but cool, smog free
air. It nibbled at you head-to-toe and kept you focused on your bike. Once we
were on the main stretch of highway it was just an hour's ride, and after
Devil's Slide, we were in the home stretch; hunger taking over, we pushed the
pace up to 20-MPH.
At
the restaurant, Hirohito, true to form, had us park our bikes in his office. We
locked them to the steel pole I had installed there for his computer and other
valuable office equipment. A floor to ceiling, case hardened 6” diameter steel
pipe just to the side of his desk. It was buried in cement at the floor level.
Hirohito's office computer systems had all my “protective” features installed,
software and hardware. I kept him secure and he kept me well fed a few times a
year, a good trade for both sides.
I
had called ahead and told Hirohito that I was bringing Gisela and that she
would want the vegetarian tempura. I always have the sashimi special of the
day. This day's special included calamari, which I can only eat when prepared
the Japanese way. There was also eel, which is to die for. I always feel sorry
for non-coastal people, who never acquire a taste for the subtle flavours of
far eastern prepared ocean creatures. The non-coastals turn everything into
fish-sticks where they can only taste the grease and batter.
I
mentioned in passing that I was starting a new case for 21st Century Energy and
that the wife's name was Jackie Thorne.
“Oh,
I know Jackie,” she said, “she's on our board at the Museum. She hosts
fund-raisers for us all the time. You'll never meet a sweeter woman.”
We
pedaled back to San Francisco
* * *
Saturday
morning I repeated the trip to Half
Moon Bay
He
walked me up to the third floor. The house was one of those only-in-California,
sprawling 8,000 square foot monster houses. Sparsely furnished, taking
advantage of many glass walls with spectacular views of the surrounding lush
countryside. At an elevation of 500 feet, Woodside is above all that nasty
valley smog. It gets clear air from the coast and on a non-smog day, you can
see to the other side of the bay, all the way to Oakland
or Fremont
His
wife's office was the size of my apartment. She had all the latest equipment.
There were wireless connections for everything; printers, scanners, a server
machine, and the Internet through what looked to be a private WiFi sending
station. A pretty sophisticated set-up, one that would have good security
installed as well; what was I doing here? Andrew showed me where the light and
power switches were and the bathrooms. There were four on this floor. Then he
left for his golf game.
One
of the rules of the game I learned many years ago was not to carry tools of the
trade. If you don't have lock picks on you, you can't be accused of picking
locks, the same goes for safes and computers. I go in empty-handed. Everything
I need is on the Internet, some things through my own site, only accessible by
me, but I can use anyone's computer. Okay, I did carry a few gadgets. They look
like standard parallel cables; nobody ever looks at what's plugged into their
computer. One of mine is a micro-computer that traps everything being sent to a
printer and periodically sends it to my computer through a wireless link. In a
place like this, I don't even have to drive by periodically to provide the WiFi
connection.
Mostly
though, I rely on my own cookies, or sprinkles as I call them. My software
program identifies all cookies coming in to the computer system and attaches an
out-going sprinkle to follow the path back to the enquiring machine. If my mole
gets in, I leave everything alone, the hacker machine able to pirate the data
that I have not been paid to protect. If the pirate is smart enough not to
allow me in, I block it from future access. If I allow it to set up
communication with my unprotected data, then I learn its identity, sometimes
its location, and on rare occasions, its purpose.
* * *
After
everything was in place, I rode back to the City and went up to my office to do
some research on 21st Century Energy.
My
old girlfriend Bettina works for one of the giant energy companies, Standard
Oil. I pulled out my little black book and gave her a call.
“I'm
sorry Pete; I'm not going to be around for the next two weeks, Cancun with the new love of my life. I'm packing tonight
and we're leaving at 9 tomorrow morning. I could see you for an hour tonight if
you bought me a quick dinner.”
I
had told Bettina to meet me at Julius' Castle on Montgomery, just the other
side of Telegraph Hill from my place. I could walk there. It was early evening
when I got there. Rolf was manning the seating station before things got busy.
I slipped him a twenty to get a table by the Bay-side window. We'd be able to
watch the sunset over the Bay through dinner. The big ships looked so close
from up here that you felt you were dining on a private yacht out on the bay.
Bettina had always loved this out-of-the-way setting. She usually was
ravenously hungry, so I took the liberty of placing our order for a rare Rack
of Lamb for two and a bottle of Martinelli Zinfandel, 2000 Giuseppe &
Luisa.
She
arrived all sparkly and excited about her new love affair. She was still as
shapely as ever. Her egg-like round face dictated that she would never be a
model even though she was beautiful. “I hope you can pay to get my car out of
valet parking when we leave,” she said as an opening, “every penny of mine is
going on this trip.”
“I'm
happy to pick up your expenses. For me this is a business dinner. Here, I'll
spot you a hundred bucks as an informant's fee.” She broke out laughing. What
was captivating about Bettina was her exuberance for life. She had an
irritating but infectious laugh. One of those "Harr, Harr, Harr,"
gasping laughs and it would continue until I laughed with her or at her. “Okay,
I continued, but to earn this money, I need you to tell me everything you know
about 21st Century Energy.”
“Well,
you've asked the question just at the right time, we've been conducting
business with them for the past 8 or 9 months. Everything I tell you is
confidential.”
“Mr.
Discretion, that's me. I don't even know a reporter by name.”
“They
got a phenomenal launch a few years ago, Wall Street's darling stock, the new
high flyer of the new century. The stock price rose too fast and too far. In
today's market, investors want to see income and profits. So, while on the
surface, 21st is supposed to be almost anti-oil, they set up some shell
companies off-shore to get into the tanker business. They're hauling oil for us
and some of the other sisters. The deal is, we sell our oil to him at $25/bbl
in the Middle East , then buy it back at
$60/bbl here in the States. WE don't earn $35/bbl reportable profit and pay
taxes on it. But he doesn't pay taxes at all and he isn't being audited. He
doesn't rake in the full $35/bbl, more like $10/bbl. His expenses and fees,
mostly to our off-shore subsidiaries and friends eat up the rest. And, he needs
an investor who will front $40 million for an illegal venture.
* * *
I
called Andrew Eisner first thing Sunday morning with the good news.
“I
can't find evidence of tampering, hacking, or spying on that computer. It
appears to be perfectly safe.”
Andrew
thanked me and said that he wanted me to stay on tap, just in case anything
strange happened again in the next few days. And that appeared to be that.
Except
about half an hour later, while I was filling out an expense report on
Bettina's dinner, one of the traps I'd installed on Jackie's computer kicked
into action and I watched as someone logged onto the 21st's downtown corporate
system through Jackie's computer, entered an invoice from a Cayman Islands
registered tanker company for services, and then put it through payables and
cut an electronic check, for $2.5 million.
I
needed some time to think this through. I pulled out my Zero town bike and took
off up and down the hills of San
Francisco Arabia to the States. Even an older tanker held 1½
million barrels of oil. The news only talks about $60 a barrel oil, but that is
the spot market price. Most oil is sold at long-term contract rates, set years
ago. Speculators want to exercise their option to buy at $25 a barrel and would
love to sell at spot market prices. Everything in between occurs. Andrew could
earn a legal $10 a barrel profit just transporting the oil from point A to
point B, but he was greedy. He was speculating rather than simply shipping the
oil; buying low and selling high. It also looked as though he wasn't insuring
the ships, one of the biggest expenses, and he wasn't paying taxes to anyone on
the profits.
The
question was, where was he getting the money to front the deals?
Was
he setting the wife up for the fall? A fall had to come and he must be aware of
that, so he must be planning a skip.
* * *
I
decided to go straight to the horse's mouth and ask. Monday morning, I punched
in the number at Andrew's Woodside house and a polished east-coast voice
answered.
“This
is Jackie Thorne.”
“You
don't know me. My name is Pete Campbell. I'm been hired for a security job by
your husband, a private job, and I need to discuss a few matters with you of a
personal nature. Would that be possible?
“I'll
be in the City tomorrow morning at the de Young Museum and available for lunch.
Can you come out to the Richmond
“It
would delight me, no end. I'll see you Tuesday.”
* * *
I
stayed home Tuesday morning. I could monitor my computer logs, bugs, and traps
just as well from the apartment. Two more checks went out about ten o'clock,
each for a little over a million. I jotted down the payees and set off on my
Zero.
The
Hong Kong Flower Lounge is one of dozens of good Chinese restaurants out in the
Richmond Chinatown is for tourists. As soon
as a Chinese family can get some money together, they move out to the Richmond
“Mr.
Campbell, I just got here myself.”
I
asked her if we could trade seats so I could keep an eye on my bike.
“You
asked for this place Mrs. Thorne, what would you recommend we eat?” I asked.
Jackie
Thorne was a tall brunette with long wavy, immaculately cared-for hair. She was
probably late thirties, but had this timeless beauty about her; eyes, nose,
mouth all slightly large, but in the right places and her skin was that British
white that Goth girls like these days. She was wearing a power red Balmain
suit, custom re-tailored to her body. She was fit and healthy looking; most of
her height was in her legs, demurely showing dancer's calves and some simple
black toeless pumps.
“For
a conversational lunch, Mr. Campbell, there's nothing better than the Dim Sum,
little platters of food delivered to your table every few minutes, always
different, always good. Eating them allows convenient breaks in the
conversation.” She nodded conspiratorially to the waitress, suggesting that she
had already ordered the Dim Sum for us.
“So,
what did you arrange this lunch for Mr. Campbell? Did you want to discuss
backups or viruses on my computer? I did check you out.”
“No,
from what I have been able to observe, someone is using your computer to log
into 21st's computer accounting system and creating phony invoices from
off-shore companies, then paying them into Cayman Islands bank accounts. Do you
recognize these names?”
“No,
of course I wouldn't. I know little about my husband's business. I do know he's
in serious financial trouble. I also know he'll stop at nothing to succeed.
I'll be honest Mr. Campbell; ours was a marriage of convenience. I know that
sounds funny coming from a middle-aged woman. It was my third marriage. I need
a successful husband for social status; no one likes to invite single older
women to parties. Andrew needed access to important people. Andrew's burned
several of my friends on investment deals; he's borrowed considerable money
from me. I think we're ready to call it quits, at least I am.”
“Do
you possess a valid passport, Mrs. Thorne?”
“I
am a San Francisco Cayman Islands
for some R&R.”
“One
more question, Mrs. Thorne, and this was a lovely lunch, by the way, my treat,
Would you be surprised if you husband skipped the country with all his
company's assets?”
“Not
in the least. He's perfectly capable of it.”
“What
if he left you holding the bag? What if there was evidence that implicated you
in the crime of embezzlement?”
“I'd
be mad, but not shocked, Mr. Campbell, do you think it has gone that far?”
“I'm
not sure, but I need to find out,” I said as we both got up. We shook hands for
that few seconds too long that means, I'd like to touch you some more.
* * *
Okay,
Jackie had pretty much confirmed it, Andrew was a bad guy. My next step was to
call a friend in the FBI and find out what was the take on these guys, these
days.
I
met him for coffee Wednesday morning over by City Hall.
“Bob
Smith, is it this year?”
“Pete,
you old scoundrel, what are you up to?”
“I
was just wondering if you guys had tightened up the laws on corporate fraud
recently after all these scandals?
“Well,
yes, Justice is on top of us to nab a few scofflaws, if we can get them to say
anything. Most of them say they didn't know anything about operations of their
companies, figureheads. You got something?
“Would
a wire on a wife stand up in court these days?”
“It
just might. The public wants to see a few hangings.”
“I
may have caught Andrew Eisner, 21st century Energy, with his pants down. I'll
need a wire authorization in the next few days; he may be a flight risk.”
“Tell
me when and where, I'm your partner.”
* * *
Jackie
Thorne had given me her cell phone number when we had lunched in the Richmond
“Could
I start calling you Jackie,” I said, “I've got a personal favour to ask you.”
“Certainly,
Mr. Campbell.”
“Pete.
Look, I'm pretty sure husband is close to calling it quits. I have an FBI
buddy, Agent Bob Smith. He is authorized to wire you up and try and have you
get Andrew to confess in front of you. As a wife, you can't testify against him
but he may be loose-tongued, and we could use the tape. What do you say?”
“Pete,
I'll do it if you teach me how to ride a bicycle. I never learned as a child,
too spoiled I guess. But I'm leading a five mile benefit that I'm supposed to
participate in and I don't know what to do.”
“Consider
me your personal trainer, Jackie.”
* * *
I
met “Bob” out in front of the Eisner's house in Woodside at nine o'clock that
Thursday night. Andrew was due home after ten. We went in and I introduced Bob
to Jackie. He showed his ID and wired her up. She was excited about the whole
thing.
On
a big estate like this, it was easy for Bob and me to pull his car off to a
secluded area. We began the vigil of listening. This was the boring part of
stake-out. I filled Bob in on what I had found so far; company names, bank
accounts, passwords, funds transfers, non-public accounting records.
“Don't
you need to serve a warrant for this, Bob?” I asked.
He
chuckled, “It's a new era Pete; the Patriot Act frees us of all that garbage.”
* * *
They
were going at it pretty hot and heavy upstairs, but no confessions.
Then,
“Yes,
you stupid bitch. I've salted away $87 million in the Caymans and I'm taking
off next week and there's nothing you can do about it.”
“Where
did you get that type of money?”
“I
created a $40 million slush fund by committing all my shares in 21st to a
letter stock deal and then successfully played the oil futures market. It's
fool-proof. Your name is on everything and I used your computer. Don't worry,
they'll never convict you, and there will be reasonable doubt about me.”
Bob
Smith said, “That's all we need. Let's go in and secure those computers.”
* **
I
stood on the doorstep with Jackie, watching two US
“Sweetie,
don't worry about collecting your bill. I owe you for freeing me. This has been
the most fun I've had in years. Why don't we start those lessons bright and
early in the morning?”
---End of Text---
James Isilay -- james@isilay.co.uk -- 8/9/2005 17:58
Hi Peter, Your descriptive writing is excellent and you bring a lot of the places alive with your detail. I thought sometimes like at the part when Pete is describing his apartment the descriptions can get too long and detailed which disrupts the flow of the story. For instance the line
>>At right angles to this wall is an even longer run, twenty-five feet, of the Western view from Nob Hill on the left to the
And the line
>> baa-whoo-upp, baa-whoo-upp.
I like your mix of characters which I think catches the multi-cultural nature of a big city, like Gisela. Though the “Hitler and his crew” line didn't work for me when describing her nature at this point.
The story didn't quite gel for me some things seemed a little wrong or not explained. For instance when he tells Gisela about his job and that the client's wife is called Jackie Thorne, I didn't find that very discreet which I would expect him to be in his line of work. I think the point he meets Gisela in the Sushi restaurant, which is built up very nicely, should be used in a stronger way as they have a very short conversation.
I thought the reason Andrew used Peter to setup his wife was a bit weak, his plan didn't seem very clever and he was caught by Peter very quickly who worked things out. I think Andrew's plot needs to be made more intricate to make the story work. Jackie Thorn as a character did not seem realistic, like where she gets the call from Pete Campbell for the first time and just says
>>“It would delight me, no end. I'll see you Tuesday.”
I think you should expand on that conversation to make her character as rich as the others.
The ending then seems a bit rushed. Everything is just too neatly in place, the wife agrees to a wire tap, the husband confesses and the FBI lend a willing hand. It all works but it's just too easy to be convincing.
I liked the way you write, the descriptions are very rich and the dialogue between the characters is good. I think the story has a great potential and with the right tweaks to the plot and the building of a few of the characters the story will be a great read.
Jason DeMott -- jason@tntmarketing.com -- 8/9/2005 18:23
Nice story. Cpmputer tricks, bikes, embezzlement, and spousal sneakiness. Interesting and complex. The 1st person POV seems a little strange to me, but I think you write it well. You write well, obviously doing this a lot longer than I.
I found a couple of missing words and typos, but all very minor stuff. It's hard to catch all that in your own writing, I know personally.
While I liked the various details, and found myself wanting a gin and tonic as well as some dim sum, there were a couple points where I found it cumbersome to get through them, particularly the three paragraphs about the apartment. It's not that I didn't like the picture, I just stopped and started a few times, finally forgetting the attempt to get all of it just right and skimming along.
Margo Ball -- BuchananBall@msn.com -- 8/9/2005 21:04
Hi Peter,
You've constructed quite a complex and complete mystery/suspense plotline, which is no small task. Your writing was smooth and without any significant distracting grammatical gaffes.
I do have a number of suggestions--largely because the piece had so much to it and has such potential.
First, the piece seems to be out of balance. By that I mean that you spent lots of time on less important scenes (the house desciption/the dinner with Gisela/the many types of bikes) and then seemed to hurry up the more important elements (the interactions with Jackie/the sting operation). It seemed as if you knew alot about your characters and setting, and you tried to put it ALL in, then ran out of time so that things got sketchy at the end. More time to edit and augment will surely fix all that.
I would have liked a catchier beginning, one that signals to me what type of story I'm about to read. For example: "It was quiet in the city; August in
The more direct-to-the-reader form of 1st person ("I'm Pete Campbell...") is a bit awkward and can lead you too far down the telling instead of showing path. Also, when a character tells us directly that they have "strong legs and abs of steel" you give the impression that the character is extremely vain, which I didn't think you were going for here.
On the "telling vs showing" front, I think that your plotline became confusing because we needed to be shown Pete's motivations for the things he did, i.e. why does Mr.Discretion tell everyone he talks to about his job, why does he rat out his client to the wife and the police? Is he alarmed/sickened when he discovers the wrong-doing? Is he worried? Unsure?Conflicted about his actions? Is he attracted to the wife and is that a motivator? There were hints about those things, but they were not fully developed. Without them we're missing out on the suspense--we don't know what he wants so we can't wonder if he'll get it.
I hope my comments are helpful and not discouraging. I sensed that most of the problems stem from your attempt to get such an ambitious piece ready in such a limited time. It could be a very effective story with some more time to work on it.
Some nice moments: "We pedaled back to
Karen McCrea -- kmccrea@mail.com -- 8/10/2005 20:57
Hi Peter,
I found your story quite absorbing, a sort of film-noir for the modern age, Dick Tracy meets Neo. I kept seeing it on screen. Maybe Donald Sutherland as Pete. Anyway, to comments. The picture you paint is very rich and got me 'there' really effectively. I like the use of specific and accurate detail about lots of things - the bikes (about which I now know 100% more than I did) the city, the apartment, the job, the restaurants, the wine , etc. The 1st person POV works really effectively in this kind of story since it mirrors the 'insider' aspect of the character's life and doings. I didn't even mind the acronyms since thats exactly how this fellow would think. The pace of the story is fast, as it should be. The only lapse in pace is mentioned above in the lengthy desription of the apartment - keep that for the novel length version of this story but it could be tightened for this version.
I have a few plot questions; as mentioned above the motivation for betraying his client isn't clear enough. And another detail is that a long haired 6'3" retired guy rocketing about on a bike or in a Hawain shirt doesn't strike me as at all anonymous. I'd definitely notice him, especially if I was a spook catcher and looking for him. Andrew Eisner doesn't work for me as a character - he's contradictory; ruthless and smooth but spills the beans with only a little provocation from the missus. She needs rounding out too - at present she's a plot device rather than a character. However, I do recognize you were writing to a limit and had to pack in a few things to carry the plot. The biggest probelm for me is Perfect Pete - he's too special; smart, cool, smooth, a casanova, a regular alpha-male but I found it hard to care about him since he lacks depth. He does a lot but doesn't have much emotional shape. What manner of man is he on the inside? What matters to him, motivates him? - as he stands it seems not a lot, which makes him hard to like.
I think this needs to be a longer story so that you have the roomto flesh out some of these things. It's all there for a great story. And a film too.
Robyn Hederman -- rhederman@yahoo.com -- 8/11/2005 19:01
Your story is gritty and fast moving. The dialogue of the characters seems spontaneous and for the most part realistic. Your specific descriptions of certain locations such as riding along Highway 1...Hirochito and the restaurant...made me feel as if I was actually there. As already said, it is an interesting basis for a story. I too didn't understand why you emphasized certain decriptions...such as Gisela and the restaurant...when the scene did not seem crucial to the story. I think more needs to be brought out about Andrew and Jackie. What is their real story? Also, if Andrew created such an intricate plot to inculpate his wife,why confess so easily? Just a few thoughts. Nice job!
Kelly Robertson -- robertsonk@comcast.net -- 8/13/2005 08:56
Peter-
I like the overall tone of this story; I feel like I'm in a gritty old detective novel. You do a really good job with details. Descriptions are thorough and realistic.
Having said that though, I think in many instances there is way too much detail, especially about
I did not believe the Pete was discreet as he claimed. He seemed to tell everyone he knew about the case he was working on and had no qualms about blabbing to his client's wife about what he found. And maybe I would have been ok with that if we saw some emotional turmoil within Pete about whether or not to expose his client. Pete, and Jackie too, have no emotion whatsoever. Show us some of their reactions or thoughts.
I had a hard time believing that Jackie would just willingly agree to meet Pete without any question at all. I also had a hard time believing that Andrew would just let Pete into his alone for hours without hardly any knowledge of who Pete was. And what is with this guy and his ex's? Every breakup he had was amicable? Hard to believe.
The pacing is off as well. You add so much detail into the story that the whole arc of the story is rushed. I don't know why the dinner scene with his ex-wife is necessary, and I need to know more about the case he is working on. The whole resolution was really rushed.
One minor inconsistency, at Enricos Pete says in the that he didn't usually drink gin, yet in the very same paragraph states he always had the same thing two gin and tonics.
Peter Andrews -- TuesdayPeter@SBCglobal.net -- 8/14/2005 16:07
My two questions (1) I spent a decade living in
(2) Plot I feel comfortable with, POV I feel comfortable with, scene descriptions I feel comfortable with, the question is, “Could you get into Pete Campbell the person, and his ladies? Despite his many faults, and 30 years as a government-sponsored hacker has to warp you some, did you like him enough to read another "Pete Campbell story?”
Sofia Bowden -- sofia.harber@mindspring.com -- 8/14/2005 16:21
I am afraid my comments are going to mirror many of the others. I was very impressed with the details. I really liked the opening scene. I felt like I had a sense of who this person was and what he did. I really liked the description of where his apartment was located and how you couldn't find it on Mapquest.
One point I found distracting was the technical bike descriptions. I think you can still make the point that he is really into bikes without being so specific. I felt myself skipping the different bike descriptions and just thinking to myself, ok, he's into bikes.
Also, I turned on Pete the minute he told Giselle that he was working on a case for 21st Century and investigating Jackie. I was literally shocked sitting here at my desk and mad at Pete for the rest of the story for being so indiscreet.
You have a lot going on here and have created a very impressive backdrop for your story.
Jason DeMott -- jason@tntmarketing.com -- 8/15/2005 10:02
Obviously, we're writing from different perspectives. Since you mention it, I did think that some things were perhaps too understated. For example, more information about the relationships would have made the story more interesting to me. As I recall, Pete went to dinner with an ex-wife and told her confidential details of his work. Why? What made the ex still that special? What about the relationship between the client and his wife? What went wrong to the extent that he wanted to set her up like that? More about the spark between Pete and the socialite, who were obviously very different.
Anyway, I liked your story, not so much for Pete himself, but the totality of it. So, yes, I would read another.
Molly English -- Moll33@aol.com -- 8/15/2005 15:50
Good story, Peter. I have to admit that initially I was a little taken back by the length, but I found myself only wanting to read more. You use superb detail pretty much everywhere in this piece. I have to say there were one or two parts, like your description of the bike ride along Highway 1 that became slightly tired. However, I'm a firm believer that more detail is better than less. I'm assuming you're involved with computers in one way or another because your technological lingo was impressive..I felt like even I knew about computers for a second. Also..last thing...why was Pete so anxious to nail Andrew? One minute he seemed thrilled to be helping this guy out (and the five thousand didn't hurt) and the next he's looking for every possibility to achieve some empty revenge or justice. But...I was extremely impressed reading this story, and took a lot out of your writing that I hope to apply to my own.
Karen McCrea -- kmccrea@mail.com -- 8/15/2005 20:24
Hi Peter,
re your questions:
(1) understated British reserve. This is not really apparent in your descriptions which are rich and full. It may show in the less developed 'inner Pete'. His motivations and feelings about what he's doing aren't written with the same sureness and I, your reader, was left to fill in the gaps. The trouble with that is that the Pete I draw in my head mightn't be the kind of Pete you have in mind. As for American brashness - I don't think you overdo this at all, he's a bit brash and thats ok for this character.
(2) I'm not quite 'into' Pete and his 'ladies' just yet. As it stands I don't get what the ladies see in this affected, unreliable man. His relationships to his ladies is not quite believable - if its all so chummy why have they split up and is he just another Lothario unable to sustain a full relationship with anyone? It might be very interesting if he is, but its not clear enough. If he is, you have to make him likeable anyway - that would be interesting!
Would I read more Pete Campbell? At present yes - I'd like to understand him better to tie the character to the action part of the plot in a more engaging way. He would need some rounding out pretty soon in proceedings, or he's too flat to hold my ongoing interest. Again, I acknowledge the difficulty of writing all this into a 5000 word piece, I'd like to see a longer version so the details canbe fleshed out. Do you have a Pete Campbell, Casanova Computer Hacker in mind?
Margo Ball -- BuchananBall@msn.com -- 8/15/2005 21:37
Peter,
1) I think Karen hit the nail on the head--it is the "inner Pete" that is missing for me, whether the British reserve is the cause or not. His American brashness is the best thing about him, the aspect of him that we can see. But he is almost too perfectly that "type."
2) I'd like to see some personal quirks, some vulnerabilities, to make Pete more real for me. I'd like to know,for example, why he stays friends with all of his ex's; that's unusual and, if explained, a great opportunity for giving the character depth. Otherwise, although I'd read his story to see what plot twists arise, I would not be invested in him--another character would do just as well.
Michael Backus -- mbackus@mmm.edu -- 8/16/2005 00:21
Peter,
This is a pretty sophisticated piece of writing, you create a guy’s life and his world in great detail and all your “proof” details about what he does, where he lives, the names of
At times, I thought there was a bit too much physical detail, the narrative bogs down in spots while you spend an entire paragraph laying out a description (I’m thinking in particular of the section where you describe where Pete lives, all the details are good, but in a short story like this, you don’t want to slow things that much, particularly since this is really only background info on the main character. If something were to happen in that space, if it played an important part, then maybe you could justify the length. I’m not talking about a big cut, just condense the details a bit, keep your eye on moving that narrative forward).
But truthfully, this isn’t a bad problem to have. All your physical details are specific and it’s a lot easier to cut some than it is to come up with more.
Now, about the narrative. I was pretty much with you up until the point he called up the wife. Up until that point, you were pretty methodical about laying out the plot details and the entire thing felt more like the first chapter of a book than it did a short story (by that, I mean, you take your time getting to the conflict and revealing new details in the plot and it felt like this entire thing was going to mushroom into something much much bigger, a la Chinatown or just about any private investigation type story. Start with the ordinary and let it build up to the extraordinary).
But calling the wife seemed an odd breach of logic and of his vaunted professionalism, after all, her husband is really his client (and another point of logic, if her husband is attempting to flee the country and leave her holding the bag, why would he hire a computer specialist to check on her computer? Maybe it makes sense in some way I’m not understanding, but it seems like a fairly significant breach of logic) and I don’t really see that he discovers anything that he wouldn’t want to bring to his client. True, there are big money transactions happening on her computer, but it would seem to me this is exactly the kind of thing the husband hired him for, why does he jump to the conclusion that her husband is the one doing these transactions? And why is the wife so matter of fact about meeting him, she doesn’t even ask what this is about?
Basically, what I’m trying to say is the last third (after a very careful buildup) feels rushed, like you wanted to close out the story. There’s way too much expository dialogue in the last third where characters are simply explaining what’s going on (for example, the wife just comes out and matter of factly tells him, a stranger, her history in the paragraph beginning with “No of course I wouldn’t. I know little about my husband’s...”.) and in the next two pages, the entire thing wraps up way too neatly and simply, you even have the husband come out and tell his wife (and the feds and us) exactly what he’s doing, laying it out in dialogue that simply explains whole chunks of plot, it feels way rushed, which is a shame because you really take you time up to this point to lay out this guy’s life and his work and his leisure.
So in a revision, I’d advise: 1. Get to the conflict sooner, condense some of Pete’s life details, pull back on the bike details (though don’t lose them, they’re basically great and specific, but you don’t need to overdo them either), and have him discover something disturbing enough on her computer that he’d actually breach the client privilege and contact the client’s wife. 2. Find a way to make it believable that the husband would hire a computer expert who very well might find out that he’s doing something extremely illegal. 3.. Complicate the conflict, don’t have the husband just come out and own up to everything, make what he’s doing a little more complex than that and let it simmer and build a bit, don’t bring everything to a neat conclusion in a page and a half. 4. Give Pete an internal conflict. I like that you give him a life and like I said, the bike details are all great, but also give him a current internal conflict, something that’s eating at him, something current that he wants or needs but can’t get. And it’d be great if you could build some cause and effect into him contacting the wife. By that, I mean that whatever his internal conflict is, whatever is eating at him, is at least partly the cause of why he ends up contacting the wife outside of the specialist/client privilege. This would also serve to motivate him contacting the wife, if we understand that something is bothering him and we see that in some way, it’s linked to this current case (and when I say linked, I don’t mean a direct link, I mean that his internal conflict makes him feel sympathy for what the wife is going through), then we will believe that he might decide to go behind his client’s back.
More comments:
I don’t have a lot of writing comments, you write extremely well and this has a very distinct and strong voice, the first half of this really creates a believable mood and all your details are such that I believed this was a guy living in
“My office is a small hole in the wall....” A hole in the wall implies small, don’t need both.
“Who is this please?” Eisner ends up being a major character, it’d be nice here if we got one “characterization” detail about his voice, about how he answers the phone, some sense of who this guy is as interpreted by Pete.
“...Eisner said, somewhat hesitantly.” The dots in the dialogue imply hesitancy, don’t need to tell us.
“One of the rules of the game...not to carry tools of the trade.” Two cliches in one sentence?
I found the explanation of the price of oil in the
Some great work here.
HOLLI
Hi Peter, I enjoyed your story. You have a great mind for plot and weaving many characters together. I was impressed! I had a minor thing in the first paragraph that distracted me. Every time I have been to
I liked the 1st person and the friendly, easy, conversational style you have. This was very easy and entertaining to read. There were a couple places I wanted to hear more about the characters. Why was he still seeing his ex wife? What happened? It is an unusual situation and piqued my interest as a reader and I wanted to know more, which is good!
The paragraph explaining John Cuckney and Andrew Eisner was a bit confusing to me. I would put the sentence, "John is a good friend and gives me several referrals.." earlier in the paragraph to help clarify.
I loved how you were able to tell us so much about the characters by using few and simple words. "Who is this please?" came the cautious opening allowed me to hear this man's voice and establish a sense of character for him quickly.
I like how your story moved. It had a lot of action and didn't get bogged down, except for the description of the apartment. In fact there was so much about your writing that I loved that the little things I bring up are very small and minor distractions from a great story and writing.
I would be cautious of statements like, "Germans are thought of as hard-working, level-headed and focused." unless you are going to tie it into something specific with the character. I kept looking for the tie-in with Gisela and didn't find it. The paragraph went on to describe the main character but not Gisela which distracted me.
I am a sushi lover and love your description of your meal but the main characters' comments "I always feel sorry for non-coastal people, who never acquire a taste...." and "the non-coastals turn everything into fish-sticks..." seemed out of character. I wondered if a 'friendly computer guru' who wonders if he can afford an air conditioner would make such comments.
Another tiny, somewhat funny critique. I hope to God that 39 is not considered "middle aged", "older single woman" or old enough to be considered a "timeless beauty"! If so, I am in trouble!
Ari Finkelstein -- finkels@fas.harvard.edu -- 8/23/2005 03:04
Hi Peter.
Your piece is a fun read. You write exceptionally well! I really got the feeling that I could see the characters myself. That's how fine the descriptions are of the characters and the places. The work you put into your descriptions really pays off. For instance:
"The second thing was the brisk, oxygen-laden, and salty, but cool, smog free air. It nibbled at you head-to-toe and kept you focused on your bike"
I know exactly what you mean by that. The clean air on your skin makes you feel alive and alert.
Still, I had a few problems with the story. Now I may have missed something but there was something about the logic that didn't add up for me. First of all, why would he tell his ex-wife, even if he was close to her, who his client is, escpecially if his customer wants to keep it quiet from his wife? It certainly doesn't fit with his secret government background or with his statement later that he is "Mr. Discretion".
Also, while your descriptions overall are fantastic, there are times when I feel you've gone too far. For instance:
“I'm a white male, 54, long curly brown hair, tall, 6'-3” and reedy looking, 175 pounds. White wool slacks and an Hawaiian shirt with Mai Tai's on it. I have the look of a bicyclist, because I am one and will have my bike with me at an outside corner table. That's my red carnation.”
The part that "I have the look of a bicyclist because I am one" doesn't strike me as true dialogue. At least, I've never heard anyone refer to himself or herself in that way.
Finally, the descriptive part of your story nearly ends completely about 3/4 of the way through. I suspect you ran out of time. Believe me, I understand your position. I've had that happen to me many times over when I've had to rush to hand something in.
Anyway, that's all. Great work!
Karen McCrea -- kmccrea@mail.com -- 9/2/2005 11:57
Hi again Pete,
this reads much, much better now. It hangs together and the story/plot is consistent. the character is also more understandable even being an unreliable narrator 'n all - but that comes through now.The Jackie character s more plausible - in fact the whole thing works. Well done.
