Law Offices of Bertrand, Owens & Cromwell | San Francisco, California
Bertrand, Owens & Cromwell did not have a Texas office, but Ross Eckhart did have a private jet. And in less than five hours after leaving the Curie Motors facility, Kayne found herself standing next to Eckhart as they rode an elevator to the top floor of the law offices.
The elevator doors opened to an expanse of rich wood paneling and leather cushioned chairs. A waiting area, funneling arrivals to a large, oak desk where a receptionist stood to greet them, all smiles.
“Mr. Eckhart!” she said, a pronounced French accent coloring even these two, short words. “We were not expecting you!”
“A tale that has hounded me all the way back to my conception,” Eckhart said, smiling in return.
The receptionist laughed, then stepped around from behind the desk. “I have already spoken with Madame Bertrand,” she said. “I have been instructed to show you and your guest to her offices.”
Eckhart nodded, and Kayne followed along as they were led through the upscale suite. As they went, Kayne noted that the décor of the place was extravagant, expensive, and mostly European. She leaned in to whisper to Eckhart. “Madame Bertrand?”
“Her husband was a French attorney and businessman. Very wealthy. And when he passed, he left all of his holdings to Adele. She has dual citizenship, but prefers the US these days. After her husband died, she stayed in Paris for a time, taking over his firm, until she relocated to Silicon Valley and opened offices here. When I met her, it was just Bertrand & Owens, and it was a much more modest set of offices.” He looked around as they went. “Most of this was paid for by billing me and my businesses.”
“When did the third partner come into the business?” Kayne asked.
“Four years ago,” Eckhart said. “Why?”
She shook her head. “I like to know things.”
“I sensed that about you,” Eckhart smiled.
They were led into a large suite of offices, just as lavish as the rest of the space. Adele Bertrand was already standing and moving to greet them when they entered.
“Ross,” she smiled, extending a hand. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Eckhart took her hand and nodded, then indicated Kayne. “This is Alex Kayne.”
Kayne’s eyes threatened to widen, probably from the pressure of her heartbeat racing up by at least a hundred beats per minute. But she managed to keep herself in check and shook Bertrand’s hand when the attorney offered it.
“The Alex Kayne?” Bertrand asked.
“Apparently,” Kayne replied, giving Eckhart a look.
Bertrand also looked to Eckhart. “Ross… you’ve put yourself in a very precarious situation.”
“I do that,” he replied, smiling. “Which is why I pay you so much money.”
“There are some things that even we can’t fix,” she replied.
“I haven’t found one yet,” Eckhart replied.
She studied him, then smiled, laughing lightly. “Well, I’ll make sure this isn’t the first. Come in, have a seat. Julia,” she said, looking past them to the receptionist, “please bring coffee.”
“Yes, Madame,” Julia replied, and she was off.
They all took their seats at a ring of comfortable furniture occupying a corner of the suite. Kayne and Eckhart sat on a loveseat as Bertrand lowered herself elegantly into a plush chair. “Things certainly seem intriguing already,” she said, looking at each of them. “How may I help?”
“It’s come to my attention that some of the patents I thought we had purchased legally were actually stolen from their IP owners,” Eckhart said.
Bertrand looked surprised. “Ross… I assure you, that isn’t the case.”
“No?” He took out his phone, opened the file that QuIEK had built, and showed it to her.
Bertrand looked it over, bringing up a pair of reading glasses that had hung by a pearl necklace from her neck. She examined the phone, shook her head, and handed it back to him. “I’ll have our people look into this immediately.”
“So you’re saying you had no idea about any of it?” Kayne asked.
Bertrand looked at her with an expression that seemed more like amusement than irritation. “Certainly not. But it does appear that something is wrong. And I intend to find out what happened.”
Kayne nodded, though she was not content to simply trust that Bertrand was on the up and up.
She hadn’t told Eckhart this, but from the moment they entered the building, Kayne had QuIEK peeking into every open network it could find. She couldn’t spare a glance at her phone, at the moment, but the AI should be gathering intel on everyone they encountered, and from there it would start looking into public and private records. An invasion of privacy, for sure. The exact sort of thing Kayne wanted to prevent world governments from doing. But this was how she’d not only helped her clients get the justice that was their due but also made sure that she, herself, stayed out of the worst kind of trouble.
Probably faulty and hypocritical logic there, she knew. But her life was strange. And sometimes you had to do the wrong thing to do the right thing.
They chatted for a time as Julia brought the coffee. Bertrand used a large display—revealed when a painting on her wall shifted to become a monitor—to bring up the files on all the patents and acquisitions QuIEK had uncovered. “These were not all handled by one individual in the firm,” she declared. “Do you see the case numbers? The first three digits indicate the attorney assigned to oversee the acquisition.”
Kayne quickly scanned through the file names, knowing that QuIEK was also snagging copies of these for later review. Bertrand was right, of course. There were hundreds of case files on the display, and rarely did any two of them share the same first three digits. “How many attorneys work here?” she asked.
“In this building? Fourteen-hundred are onsite, at any given time. Worldwide, we have more than three thousand associates.”
Kayne’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot of suits.”
“And designer pumps,” Bertrand smiled, nodding. “We’re nearly 80% female.”
“Go girl power,” Kayne replied. Again, Bertrand smiled.
“With so many attorneys,” Eckhart said, “how do you keep track of them all? To make sure they’re doing everything on the up and up?”
“Oh, Ross,” Bertrand said, shaking her head. “You always cut right to it. You’ve been our biggest client for at least a decade. Can’t you trust me to look into this?”
“Of course,” Eckhart said. “But you know the rule… ‘trust but verify.’”
Bertrand sighed and nodded. “We have a system of checks and balances. We employ an entire department of security analysts. Each file is not only numbered but encrypted using the lead attorney’s personal encryption key. No one can access the files without that attorney specifically opening it to them. Each remote access is logged and reviewed by the security analysts, and they, along with an in-house AI, flag literally anything that seems off. Flags trigger audits, audits require the lead attorney and a senior partner to review.”
“What if a senior partner is the one breaking bad?” Kayne asked.
Bertrand laughed, shaking her head. “Well, there has to be a line somewhere. There are only three of us, so we are each other’s checks and balance. But we have a pact of trust. Of course, trust can be broken. As the founder, I insisted on a breakaway clause in each partner’s contract. If I ever discovered one of the partners was doing something illegal, I have the sole authority to expel them. It’s my nuclear option.”
“And if you are the one doing something illegal?” Kayne asked.
This time she could read a hint of annoyance in Bertrand’s expression. “Then everything I built, everything I worked for, and the jobs of three-thousand good and hardworking people will all go away. That’s not something I take lightly.”
Kayne studied her. She wasn’t sure if Bertrand was actually as sincere about her own culpability as she implied. But for the moment, there was no reason to doubt her. Because, in the end, she was right—if she was the corrupt one, she was risking everything. And for what? More money?
Kayne knew money could be a very powerful motivator. But looking around at Bertrand’s offices, she couldn’t imagine this woman feeling compelled to amass more than she was due. Everything in this space screamed “self-made woman.” Kayne had a certain amount of appreciation for that.
And for what it was worth, she found herself liking Adele Bertrand, and secretly hoping she was not the one behind this.
They continued talking for another half hour, and then Eckhart asked if he could speak to the other two senior partners.
“Both are out of the country, I’m afraid,” she replied. “I can arrange to have them conference with you over a video chat, if you like.”
Eckhart nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” Then he paused, looked at Kayne and then back to Bertrand, and said, “I’m also going to need a little help with Alex, here.”
Kayne’s eyebrows shot up. “Help with me, how?”
“He’s asking me to ensure he doesn’t get into any legal trouble for aiding and abetting a fugitive,” Bertrand replied, smiling lightly.
Kayne took this in, and nodded. “I see.”
“Not just that,” Eckhart said. “I want you to look into what it would take to clear her name.”
Kayne hadn’t had a sip of coffee in several minutes, but still found herself choking as if it had gone down the wrong pipe. “I’m sorry… what now?”
“That’s going to be a challenge,” Bertrand said. “These aren’t light charges, Ross.”
“I’m aware,” Eckhart replied.
“And… forgive me, but how do you know she’s not guilty?”
“Hey!” Kayne replied. “I’m kind of sitting right here.”
“I don’t,” Eckhart admitted. “But I think she’s innocent.” He turned to Kayne. “Are you?”
“Innocent?” Kayne asked. “Of murdering Adrian and committing treason? Yes, I’m innocent.”
“Is there more?” Bertrand asked? “Things for which you are not innocent?”
Kayne laughed. “Of course. I’ve been on a fugitive for the past three years. The crimes keep stacking up.”
“But you’re working for the FBI now,” Eckhart said, prompting.
They’d had time to swap stories on the flight in. She’d told him about Agent Symon, and about Historic Crimes. “I’m just a confidential informant,” she said. “They’ve already told me they can’t get the charges dropped. Even your guy… Ethan Patterson… he’s the head of the Historic Crimes Oversight Committee, and even he can’t get them to reconsider.”
“Even billionaires have their limits,” Eckhart said, smiling lightly.
“But your work with law enforcement, and the support of both Ross and Mr. Patterson, might be a useful place to start,” Bertrand mused.
Kayne looked to each of them. “I’m… not asking either of you for this…”
“There are no guarantees, of course,” Bertrand said.
Kayne nodded. “I… was not expecting this. So I don’t know what to say. But whatever you can do… if anything… thank you.”
She wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of this kind of help. It felt weird, and scary. And surreal. Like it might be yanked away from her at any minute.
Was this how her clients felt?
“I’m surprised you haven’t been able to just clear things up with that magic software of yours,” Eckhart said.
Alex shrugged. “I guess that’s something I have in common with billionaires,” she said. “We both have our limits.”