John Tiberius Dryer, Thief

 

The bitter truth was John "Shaky" Dryer was a thief. It was worse than that, he was a foolish corporate thief and just plain fool. He had lost everything and for what -- five million dollars and a bimbo he had already grown tired of?

He never imagined dying would be so easy, but there he was. He wanted to dye and why not? He had thrown the people he loved most away. He never imagined losing a sister and his parents would be so terrible, but here he was. He had created too many demons and shamed his whole family. He never imagined losing a father, a daughter, a wife would be so upsetting, but here he was, a thief, in the midst of a sleepless, depressing, never-ending reality.

Everybody knew John, now 39, was a thief. Somehow, the company John had stolen from had spread the word on him. Everywhere he moved: Denver, Omaha, Dallas, St. Louis - they got the word out on him. Who could blame them, he had gotten away clean with $5 million dollars and no one could prove a thing.

You see, John was the best of the best at computer programming. Shaky, as most people called him, had worked in the corporate office for a major Colorado bank conglomerate. He had earned an ever-increasing security clearance over several productive and loyal years of service. He had earned a comfortable salary and lived in a safe Boulder Colorado community with his attractive wife and teenage daughter. Sure, his wife and he had grown apart a little over the years, but what couple didn’t. She was a good woman and fairly self-reliant. His daughter, Teresa, was pretty and smart too. She was popular in high school in her freshman year and never needed any help with homework. What else could a man hope for or want?

On the surface, all seemed All-American to everyone. John’s older sister, Pam and her three kids lived less than four blocks away. Johns mother, Peggy, now 65, and his father John, Sr., lived a few miles away in Denver. They were both in great health and were excellent grandparents. Basically, Shaky wanted for nothing. Nothing except, excitement and sex. Yes, you guessed it - Shaky hid a terrible, terrible secret. Shaky was a sex fiend. He liked young women. No not teenagers, but women in the 25-29 category. He had known several over the last 17 years of marriage.

In his first decade of marriage Shaky and his wife Missy, now 35 years old, had enjoyed a wild and happy sex life. They were both adventurous and loving, and had experimented as most couples do. The years, as they sometimes seem to do, however, had taken their toll. Shaky and Missy had gotten into an endless loop of routine. Their lives were just too damn normal.

Every work day Shaky got up at exactly the same time, usually an hour before Missy, showered and made breakfast. By the time he was ready to eat breakfast, Missy and Teresa were coming down to breakfast. After work was routine too except maybe during football and basketball games. That’s when they got to watch their daughter who was a cheerleader. They were both loving parents who were very proud of their daughter and loved her very much.

One of the disadvantages of living in suburbia was the morning drive to work. Shaky’s drive was a demanding 45 minute bumper-car adventure to work and back everyday. Not that bad really, Shaky enjoyed the quiet alone time and the solitude. He enjoyed blasting the car stereo system as he forged through the heavy and sometimes erratic morning traffic. He enjoyed day dreaming of far away islands with hundreds of pretty island girls attending to his every wish and desire. He dreamed of sitting and doing nothing on the beach with Dawn, his girlish, and to be honest, not too smart mistress. Dawn was a good person, no doubt about it. Its true , God had short changed her in the brains department, but He made up for all that in the looks department.

True, this 27 year old young woman had glided through life without being corrupted by anyone. She had an innocence about her that just about everyone liked. Hell, even Missy would like her if she happened to meet her somewhere and didn’t know who she was. Need I say it. Dawn had a magnificent figure -- you know, like a goddess. And, guess what -- she worshiped Shaky. And why shouldn't she. John Shaky Dryer was still a strapping, 6’1, dark and well built man. True enough, he had one or two gray hairs on his temples and also a few wrinkles from analyzing complex computer code, but all in all, Shaky was attractive to many women. He had all his hair, all his teeth, money and a nice car. Shaky was a nice guy too. Everyone liked him. Why not, he could talk your ears off, literally.

Things being what things are, Shaky had accumulated quite a huge debt over the years of cheating and taking care of his family in the most comfortable of ways. Yes, he was $217,000 in debt. A lot of the money had been spent buying expensive trinkets for his many high maintenance mistresses over the years. Secretly, Shaky had mortgaged his house and all he had including his life insurance and 401K plan to support his habit. He knew somewhere in the back of his adulterous mind, that it would all come out one day, but he didn’t care -- at the time. Now that it was bound to come out, he became frightened. He couldn't get caught, but he would.

And the way things were going, it would be soon. The worst part was that his family would suffer. His wife and daughter would be left with nothing, except humiliation. His house would be gone too after all the creditors came calling. His poor, lovely, smart daughter would not be able to go to college. In short, he was trapped.

He was going down and he knew it. He would be shamed. Everyone would know. Going to work would be almost as hard as facing his wife and family. He had sinned profanely, and now, he was about to pay an equally devastating price. No way out.

Over the years, Shaky, who was extremely brilliant in programming, had noted a critical design flaw in his company's banking system software security. It was in the design of the funds transfer software. True enough, there were countless redundant security checks built in the programming shop which normally prevent a programmer from abusing the system. But, Shaky, who was extraordinary, concluded that he could write program that "intercepted" a funds transfer before the actual transfer was transmitted over the fiber optical network.

The theft worked this way, Shaky’s program would intercept a transfer being input within an actual bank before the mainframe computer encrypted the transaction. It was perfect. Shaky could easily "lose" the transaction and reroute it to a program that would send it to an anonymous account some where in a different city.

There would be no proof, but there was a down side to this wily deception. Shaky was the only programmer who had the skills to pull it off. It wouldn't take long for any good investigator to determine or isolate the theft. Another problem was getting the transferred money out of the bank where it had been misrouted. Shaky had to do this before anyone could trace the money. He would need a fool proof disguise and phony identification.

After weeks of debugging his software and working to get the phony identification, Shaky was finally ready. He had studied disguise techniques actors use after doing extensive research over the Internet and had bought the required items in cash in Denver. It was now time for the theft.

On the day of the theft, Shaky was, well, shaky. He had not slept soundly in days. He had stolen (borrowed) the required equipment and hid it away in the utility closet where the telephone and fiber optic wires met at a critical junction box. With a simple telephone taping device, he would have access to the banks incoming lines. It was perfect timing. One of the three technicians was out sick, and the other had taken an early lunch to attend his son's sixth grade play.

He would have at least two hours to find a transaction large enough to help him to escape his sins. His heart was beating fast, faster, and he was alive with excitement. It was more than just simple stealing to him. He wanted to see if he had the skills to beat the formidable security system. He had secretly wondered about that for almost two decades. He would take the money then put the equipment back in their proper places.

It took only fifteen minutes to get the equipment properly configured to intercept terminals on the floor of the bank. He hooked a lap top computer to the telephone line and would wait. Anything greater than $600,000 and he would have enough to make a new start. He waited. He waited. Thirty more minutes had passed -- a total of 45 minutes and no large transactions. He waited patiently. A transaction of $230,000 flowed across the wire. How far could he get with that? It wasn't enough. Fifteen more minutes passed. Ten more minutes passed and he wondered when Sam, the other computer programmer would be coming back from the play. Fifteen more minutes passed and he decided he would give it just five more minutes.

Then, suddenly, a transaction of $5 million dollars came across the illegal wire tap/computer intercept terminal. BINGO - he had it. He sent the real transaction to the bank in Denver and misrouted a bogus (garbled) message to the mainframe. It would appear the transaction was lost on the wire somehow. By the time a knowledgeable investigator came to his banks location, he would have transferred the money overseas yet again. One thing was certain, no one would ever find it.

It took only five minutes for Shaky to disconnect the equipment. Good thing too, five minutes later Sam came back from his son's play. Shaky had made it and with five minutes to spare.

Sure enough, the bank knew the funds were not in their proper location the very next day. At work, Shaky was cool as could be. After all, he had planned everything well. The bank immediately called in their best investigator, Sharon Mills. Sharon was one of the best investigators in the business, and at fifty-five, had solved over forty banking related thefts nationwide. It was widely rumored that Sharon could tell if a person was lying the instant the actual lie occurred. It didn’t matter to Shaky though, no one could prove anything. He was too good.

When Sharon got to Shaky in the initial interview, she carefully evaluated his eyes, his body language, his tone and the shifts in tones. She noted the cadence in words, voice, and steps. Shaky was smart too. But Sharon had been at this too long. She couldn't put her finger on anything, but she definitely knew something was not as it should be.

Soon, the department head was informed of Shaky’s interview and Shaky noted bank employees eyes carefully monitoring him. He didn’t know he would feel this dreadful, repulsive way -- guilty. The guilt started building, building, accumulating, weighing heavily on his guilt-ridden mind. Week after week, he went to work, day after day, he went home. It was terrible. It was a living nightmare. It was his own fault. He was under suspicion and scrutiny -- both well deserved.

Then one day, Shaky disappeared. For a few months he was at piece. He had taken a small apartment in Dallas. No one knew him and he was happy. Sure he was alone, had good money and could do whatever he wanted, when he wanted to do it, but he was not happy. He had gotten in the habit of frequenting strip clubs and had met several women, young, fine and gold-digging princesses. Mostly, they were as hollow as his heart had become. He felt terrible and well he should. He had abandoned his family completely.

To make matters worst, his bank had tracked him down. Soon, his neighbors and lady friends all knew he was a stinker. He moved. First, Omaha, where a college friend lived. Then, the company tracked him down again. Then, St. Louis, then Nashville. Soon, Shaky was thinking of living in Europe.

Night after sleepless night, Shaky woke up thinking about his wife and daughter. He had secretly sent them a lot of money for bills -- over $600,000 over the last three years, but he missed them both. There was nothing he could do but run. True enough he could legally go where he wanted, but where in America could he go where he would be free? Nowhere.

He was already disgraced. At least, he was cured of his womanizing. Wild women no longer captured his desires. Nothing excited him anymore. He longed for what he had given up -- a dull, normal life. Finally, at the bottomless-pit of his despair, he let the hammer of his 45 caliber pistol fall back in place. He thought only of his loving daughter. He turned himself in to the authorities the very same day. In just three years, he had ran through $2.1 million dollars. The rest of the money was returned.

The next five years John "Shaky" Dryer spent in a federal prison in Colorado. He was finally at peace in his small cell. He was a man who had acquired everything, lost everything, and earned the respect of his daughter who was waiting for him when he walked out the prison door. You see, that whole time, Shaky’s daughter had prayed for him. She loved her father and didn’t care if he had made a terrible mistake. "After all," she said, "we are all human." She would always love him and do what she could to help him. John "Shaky" Tiberius Dryer was truly a blessed man.


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and may not be reproduced without permission.