Caper
“Unfortunately, he wouldn’t see me, and there was no way I was getting by his doorman. The son of a bitch knew me from my abortive attempt to get a look at the parking garage security tapes.
On the other hand, the guy couldn’t work all the time. He’d have shifts. All I had to do was find the right shift.
I drove over to the East Side, got a meter on Madison, walked over and checked out his building from across the street.
There was a different doorman on duty.
Excellent.
Now all I needed was the congressman to be home. I had done my research in that department. When Congress wasn’t in session, he often hung out in his apartment. His son was in school. His wife worked. Anyone there would be him.
Unfortunately, his number was unlisted.
I whipped out my cell phone, called MacAullif.
He wasn’t pleased to hear from me. And he was less pleased when he heard why I was calling.
“You want the congressman’s phone number?”
“Well, I know you don’t want me to apologize in person.
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