Dirt
“Dirt "I don't think He needs to use a wire." "Bedroom?" "Yep." "Shit.""You want me to yank everything]"Stone thought for a moment. "Can you disable it in a way that willmake them think it's just broken?"Cantor nodded. "I can create enough static to make them think it'stheir fault." "Good, do that." "Okay." "How long?" "Half anhour."Shortly, Cantor was back. "It's done. You may hear some static on thephone lines, but it'll be manageable. I left the fax machine alone;static there woul...d give you garbled transmissions.""Fine." Stone handed him a sheet of paper and two envelopes. "Theseare the other twoaddresses, and I've written a letter to each woman, telling them whatyou're going to do.""If I find something, you want me to do the same thing to it? I mean,whoever's bugging you might think something's up if all three systemsgo down.""Good point. Do the same work on Ms. Dart's offices and apartment,but leave the Potts place up and running. Then call me.""One thing," Cantor said."What's that?""You got a very nice burglar alarm system in the house; you ever useit?'"When I go away.""Start using it all the time. I mean, now that the wire on your placeisn't working right, they might come back to fix it.""I hadn't thought of that," Stone said.CHAPTERman da got to Stone first. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded."This man of yours says there are bugs all over my offices.""What's going on, Amanda, is that there are bugs all over your offices.That's where your leak is, or at least part of it.""Well, I told him to yank them all out."Stone groaned. "I told him to create static, but leave them in Place.Now whoever planted the bugs is going to know you know.""That's just fine with me," she said. "I want the bastard to know.""Amanda, you got the surveillance reports on your people, the ones Isent you?""Yes, and they both look innocent enough to me.""To me, too; that leaves Martha.""Stone, I've told you, it couldn't be Martha." "We're running out ofsuspects; there's only the maid and Martha. I want your permission tocheck out both of them. Oh, and the chauffeur, too.""I hate paying for work that I know will turn up nothing.""That's understandable, but anytime you investigate a group of people,you have to investigate them all. That's the only way it will work.So, have I your permission to investigate these three people?""Oh, all right, but for God's sal, don't let any of them know. Itwould be so embarrassing for me if they found out.""Not as embarrassing as what DIIT is publishing.""You have a point. Do it.""Yes, ma'am."Her voice changed, became lower. "I thought you were going to call mefor a get-together."Better bite the bullet, Stone thought. "I'm sorry, Amanda, but I haveto be frank with you. I'm seeing somebody, and she's taking all my ...attention.""Shit," Amanda said, and hung up.Tiffany was next."I'm calling from a pay phone," she said."Good girl.""That Bob says that somebody can hear every word that's spoken in myapartment or on my phone, and that he's not fixing it.""If we fix it, Tiff, whoever is listening will know that you know.""Stone, you told me to find a boyfriend, so I did. Now when I bringhim home, somebody's going to hear us in bed." "You're an actress;think of it as a performance."She was quiet for a moment. "I hadn't thought of that," she saidfinally. "Come to think of it, that could be a turn-on.""Whatever works for you, Tiff.""I wish there was a way I could turn the bug off for a few minutes at atime, though.""Does the boyfriend have a home?""Yeah, but it's way down in the Village.""The Village is charming; a great place to make love.""Mmmmm," she said."And Tiff, for God's sake, stay away from Dick--no hotels or anything;it's for his own good, tell him that.""He has been insistent." "How did you communicate?" "Pay phone atboth ends.""Do this: Tell him no contact for two weeks." Stone had no idea wherehe'd be on this investigation in two weeks, but what the hell?"Okay.""See you, Tiff.""Bye."Bob Cantor called next..i "Boy, that Tiffany is something!" he said.""Down, Bob. Her boyfriend could buy and sell you, and he would.""Too bad. Oh, Amanda Dart made me rip out everything.""She told me. I'll just have to live with it. You ever do anysurveillance work?"Once in a while.""I've got two people need checking out; got a pencil?" ."Shoot."Stone gave him the names and addresses of the maid and chauffeur. Hewould check out Martha himselfi "I need this soonest," he told Canton"Gotcha. Oh, Stone, I almost forgot; I might know who did the wiringjob on you and the other tWO.""Yeah? Who?""Maybe a guy who occasionally hangs out at a bar I go to.""What makes you think you know?""He has a signature; it's the way he wraps a wire around a terminal--hemakes a kind of knot. Somebody told me about it. You want me to addthis to my list?""You do that; I'd like very much to know who he's working for.""You got it."SUR? WOOSStone had a thought. "Bob, will you wire a place for me? Phone, too?"-'"You bet; but it's more expensive if I have to beak in and work underpressure." "Her name is Martha McMahon; she works all day, five days aweek; she lives in a small elevator building, no doorman." Stone gavehim the address. "You want to listen live, or have it taped?" "Idon't have time to listen live. Can you tape it from a remotelocation, so you don't have to be there?" "Sure." "Do it. Make herfirst on your list.", "You got it." Stone hung up. It bothered himthat he himself was the subject of surveillance. He was going to haveto start watching himself. He went into his study, unlocked a cabinet,and took out a Remington riot gun with an eighteen-andahalf-inchbarrel. It was standard police issue; he had bought it at adepartmental surplus equipment sale years before. He ignored thedouble-ought buckshot shells in the cabinet and chose number ninebirdshot; he wasn't out to blow a yawning hole in anybody. He insertedfour shells into the gun, pumped a round into the chamber, then addedone more shell and flipped on the safety. Then he walked upstairs tohis bedroom and put the weapon on a small shelf he had built under thebed.Remembering that he had not relocked the cabinet, he went backdownstairs to the study, key in hand. For a moment, he gazed at thenine-millimeter automatic, han .ging inside in its shoulder holster,then decided against it and locked the cabinet. No need for thatyet.CHAPTER$0tone stood half a block from Amanda's building and waited for Martha tosome out. Martha knew him by sight, and he would have to be careful.It was nearly six when she left the building, and she walked with greatpurpose down Lexington Avenue, went into a Gristedes market, stayedtwenty minutes, and left with nothing in her hands. Probably havingher groceries delivered. She walked on downtown, did some windowshopping, and then did something Stone thought odd: She went into anexpensive cosmetics shop and spent nearly forty minutes there, allowinga salesgirl to make her up, then leaving with a loaded shopping bag.This seemed strange, because Martha, on the occasions when he had seenher,had never worn makeup at all. There was a new man in her life, Stonefigured.She continued downtown until she reached her building and went inside.Stone intended to wait until she emerged again. If she was still allmade up she might have a date later. Then he saw a van parked a fewyards down the street from her building; it was gray and had atelephone company logo on the sides. What surprised him was that BobCantor was behind the wheel, wearing a hard hat. Stone approached andknocked on a window.Cantor jumped, then grinned and let Stone in. "Just in time," hewhispered, "sle's on the phone with a guy." He flipped a witch, andthe call was played over a speaker."... really sorry, but I've got tiffs meeting," a man's voice wassaying."Aw ..." Martha responded, "and I just made myself look so pretty foryou.""I'll miss that, baby, but there's nothing I can do.""Tomorrow, then?""I'll have to call you; it's a rough week.""Oh, all right," she said, the disappointment heavy in her voice. Thecall ended."How much did I miss?" Stone asked. "Nothing important." "Did shemake the call?" "No, he called her.""Shit. If she makes any calls, can you extract the numbers from thekeypad beeps?""Sure.""What about Caller ID? Can you pick up her incoming calls?""Nope that has to be done centrally, at the exchange. Nothing I can doabout it.""What did you find inside her apartment?" "Nice place; not large, butgood furniture--antiques, nice upholstered pieces, a baby grand piano,out of tune. Her clothes are pretty dull, but there was a new blackdress in a Saks bag that looked more elegant than her other stuff. Ifound some credit card bills; she's got a balance on her Visa of sixthousand and change, pretty high for a secretary, but she pays ontime.""She makes good money, so the Visa balance isn't out of line," Stonesaid. "What else? Any photographs of men?""Nope, only one photograph; looks like her parents. She reads a lot,almost all hardbacks; there are a lot of bookcases in the place. Shebuys expensive-looking sheets and towels, there are a couple of goodoriental carpets in the place. All in all, a fairly high-end joint,especially for a single woman.""Anything else?""I saved the best for last; her apartment's already wired, and by thesame guy who did your job.""Jesus, that's four residences they've gone after; these people musthave some money behind them.""Either that, or one of them knows his way around electronicsurveillance. The equipment isn't very exotic or very expensive, butwhoegr did it knew what he was doing."Music suddenly came from the speaker in the van."Sounds like WQXR, the classical radio station," Cantor said."Interesting lady; pity she's not more of a looker." ,"Where are you going to park the recorder?" Stone asked."Right here; I'm in a legal parking spot, and I don't have to move thevan until tomorrow morning, when the alternate side' parking ruleschange. I'll just leave it until then.""Good. No point in surveilling when she's at work, either. Just checkher between quitting time and bedtime; let's see if the guy reallycalls back or if he's just handing her a line.""Okay. How long do you want me to keep the recorder going?""The rest of the week, if you can check out the other two names I gaveyou while the recorder listens.""Sure thing. Tell me, did you set your alarm when you left thehouse?""Damn it, I forgot.""They'll come back, I promise you.""How will I know if they do?""You won't, unless you know exactly what to look for."Stone opened the door of the van. "I think I'd better get home."The phone was ringing when he opened the front door."Hi," Arrington said. "How about tonight?""I've got to do something tonight," he said, "and I'm afraid you can'thelp.""I can be very helpful," she said."I know, but this one I need to do alone. How about tomorrow?""You're on; see you later." She hung up.Stone walked around the house and took a good look at things; nothingseemed to' have been disturbed in his absence. He switched on theliving room lights and left the house by the front door, careful to setthe alarm this time, then walked around to the other side of the blockand rang the bell of a neighbor of his acquaintance."Hi," he said to the woman. "I've forgotten my front door key; could Igo out the back door of your house? I've got a kitchen door keyhidden.""Sure," the woman said, then let him into and out the rear of herhouse.It was dark now, but the lights in the common garden had not yet comeon. Stone stood very still for ten minutes, sweeping the entiregarden, looking for any sign of movement. There was none. He walkedslowly toward the back door of his own house, as if out for an eveningstroll, then stoppedagain at his back gate. Still no movement in the garden.He went to his kitchen door and let himself in, then disarmed theburglar alarm. Without turning on any lights, he went upstairs to hisbedroom, changed into slippers, got the loaded riot gun, and went backdownstairs to his study. He sat himself down in a comfortable chairand began to wait. The only light in the room filtered in from theliving room, where a single lamp burned.It had been a long time since he had been on a stakeout, and he triedto remember how he had dealt with the boredom without falling asleep.Reading was out; so was listehing to music or watching television.Instead, he tried to remember things, things from a long time ago;that, he knew from experience, would keep him awake and wouldn'tinterfere with his hearing. He tried to remember all the names of hishigh school graduating class, scoring about 80 percent, he reckoned.The graduation memory done, he started on girls. He tried to remembereach of the girls he had slept with from his freshman year at NYU, whenhe had had his first sexual experience, until he graduated. He beganwith Susan Bernstein, his first, who had invited him back to her dormroom and brazenly seduced him, cheerfully waiting until he hadrecovered from his first, premature ejaculation so that they could doit again, this time for a considerably longer period. He had sleptwith her throughout his freshman year; he tried to remember eachexperience. She didn't come back his sophomore year; she had quitschool to marry a jeweler in the diamond district.He worked his way through the college years, lingering over the firstexperience he had had with two girls, at a summer house in EastHampton. The girls, he remembered, had been just as interested in eachother as in him, something that had fascinated him to no end. Thenthere had been the assistant professor of English whom he had screwedlate at night in the faculty lounge and on three other occasions,always in the same room. For some reason, doing it there had turnedher on.He was somewhere in the middle of his senior year, in the back seat ofa Catlillac convertible parked on a dark Greenwich Village street,fucking the beautiful daughter of a New Jersey car dealer, when he wassuddenly snapped back to the present. He had heard a noise fromsomewhere downstairs.CHAPTERStone' stood up, retrieved the shotgun leaning against his chair, andchecked to be sure the safety was still on. If he had to use theshotgun, he reckoned, he would use it as a club, if at all possible. Hehad no'desireto kill . anybody, and he knew, from his experience as apolice detective, what a pain in the ass it was to deal with theaftermath of a killing, even a legal one.The noise had seemed to come from the lower front of the house, so hetiptoed down the hall toward the front stairs, keeping to the edge ofthe floor to avoid creaking. He went slowly down the stairs the sameway. There was another noise, a tiny one, and he was sure it came fromthe direction of his office. He was in the kitchen dining area, and hemoved very carefully toward the door that opened into his office.Arriving there, he put an ear to the door, held his breath, andlistened. H was certain he could hear something, but it was so faintthat he reckoned it must be coming from his secretary's office or thehallway where the telephone box was located.Slowly, he turned the knob and opened the door an inch. He could hearthe noise better now, and it wasn't coming from inside his office. He, opened the door and stepped into the room. The noise stopped. Stonestood silently immobile for perhaps a minute, then the noise beganagain, this time a series of noises, like tools being taken from orreturned to a toolbox. He moved on toward the closed door to thehallway and put' an ear against it. Again, the noise had stopped.Stone reckoned that whoever it was was engaged in work thatperiodically made some noise, then was quiet. He began turning theknob, a quarter-inch at a time; when he had turned it all the way heopened the door an inch and listened. Silence. Then, slowly, an inchat a time, he swung the door open just enough to allow himself throughit. He held the shotgun across his chest, ready to swing the butt ifhe encountered anybody, and stepped into the hallway. The floor made atiny creak. He could hear nothing else.As he inched along the hallway he began to be able to see better, andhe realized that the tiny red lights from the alarm system and thetelephone box were beginning to light his way; then he sawthat the doors to both boxes were open. Bingo, he said to himself,almost at the very moment that something crashed into the back of hisneck It seemed a long time afterward that his head, alOog with hisconsciousness, came to an abrupt stop against the hall floor.The first thing he heard was a ringing in his head. Then the ringingseemed to float out of his body and into another place, while changingpitch upward. Finally it stopped and he heard his own voice: "This isStone Barringtorurplease leave a message, and I'll get back to you."There followed an electronic beep, then a familiar voice."Stone, are you there? If you're there pick up." A brief silence."Please pick up, will you? I've got to talk to you right now!" Anothersilence. "Goddamnit, if you're in the sack with somebody else, you'rein very big trouble!" There'was aloud noise of a connection beingbroken.Stone didn't feel like moving just yet, since the floor seemed to bedoing the moving for him. He lay there, his cheek against the cooloak, and tried to still it. Finally, hours later, it seemed, stillnessarrived. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times. There wassomething inches from his nose, something tubular, and when he couldmove his head back and focus, he realized that it was the barrel of hisown shotgun, lying on the floor in front of him.He got to his hands and knees, then, using a coat rack for support,struggled to his feet, blinking rapidly to make the dizziness go away.That took a while. After a few more deep breaths to get some oxygen inhis system, he turned and, leaning on the wall, went back toward hisoffice. He found the switch that turned on the desk lamp, then movedaround the desk and into his chair, resting his head on his handsagainst the desktop. He thought he had never had such a headache.He forced himself to sit up and grope in a drawer for some aspirin,then swallowed four with some stale water from a carafe on his desk.That done, he sat up in his chair and tried to think. Somebody hadjust spoken to him. He looked down at the flashing red light on theanswering machine, then pressed the replay button and listened toArrington's voice, an urgent voice. He struggled to remember hernumber, pressed the speaker button on the phone, dialed, and laid hishead down beside it."Hello!" she said, sounding angry.He tried to speak, cleared his throat, and tried again. "It'sStone.""You're trying to sound sleepy, aren't you?" she cried. "You werethere all the time.""Listen," he said."You son of a bitch, you were there in bed with somebody, weren't you?You got rid of her, and now you're calling me back."2;0"Arrington," he said, as clearly as he could manage, "if you don't shutup and listen I'm going, to hang up.""All right," she said, "I'm listening!""What time is it?""It's eleven-thirty; lose your watch?""I've been out since, I don't know, ten, ten-thirty.""Out of the house? ..... "Out like a light." He looked at his leftwrist:"And, as a matter of fact, I did lose my watch." "You're not makingany sense.""I know." His head began. to swirl again. "Will you call anambulance, please? I think I ..." He passed out again.This time, he came awake in a hurry. Somebody was waving somethinghorrible under his nose, and he pushed it away."How're you feeling, pal?" a man's voice asked. Stone looked up andfound a cop and a paramedic standing beside him; just beyond them wasArrington. His head seemed to be resting in a puddle of something."Let's ease you back here," the paramedic said,lifting him by the shoulders and sitting him up in the chair.Stone wiped at his face. "What's this?""Vomit. You threw up on the desk. Out, as you were, you're lucky youdidn't choke on it.""Stone," Arrington said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you "Stone nodded, and it hurt a lot."Let's get you onto the stretcher," the paramedic said. His partnerappeared from somewhere, and they helped him onto the litter. "Justlie back and relax," the man said. "We'll have you checked out in notime."Stone drifted off again.When he woke up he was in a curtained-off area. A woman in a greenjacket was bending over him;Dino and Arrington were sitting beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"the woman asked. "Not so hot," Stone responded. "What's your name?""Stone Barrington."?"How many fingers do you see?" "Three." "Good count.""How is he?" Arrington asked."He's got a pretty good concussion, I think," the doctor answered. Shecontinued with a brief neurological examination. "I think we'll admithim, at least for tonight.""Can I ask him some questions?" Dino asked."Make it brief," the doctor replied, stepping back."You remember anything, Stone?" Dino asked. "I heard a noisedownstairs. Went down to2;2checl on it. That's about it. My watch is gone." He held up awrist."Did you see the guy who hit you?" "No; from behind, I think." "Right. Remember anything else?" "The doors were open.""Yeah, the street door to your office was ajar." "No, the telephoneand alarm doors." "Huh?""To the boxes in the hall.""I gotcha.""How did I get here?""You called Arrington, r. ememer?""No. Yes. She's mad at me.""No, I'm not, darling," she said, bending over him and kissing him onthe forehead."She called nine-one-one, and an ambulance and a cop showed up. Thecop recognized you and called me.""That's it," the doctor said. "We'heed to get him to bed now.""Good idea," Stone said, closing his eyes.CHAPTERAmanda looked into the mirror and was horrified at what she saw. Godknew she had been under a lot of stress lately, if anger caused stress,but this was the absolute end! High on her left cheek was an irate,fiery-red pimple. A pimple! She had not had a pimple since highschool!She covered the protuberance with makeup as well as she could, thenfinished dressing and went to her office. Her staff of three wasalready hard at work as she entered. "Messages," she said to Marthawithout so much as a good morning."Good morning, Amanda," Martha said, handing her a stack of pinkslips.Amanda went into her office without a word and closed the door, tossingthe messages onto her2i4desk. Lately she had been operating at a high level of irritation, andat times she had had a very hard time to keep from losing her temper,something she never did. This DIRT business had gotten under her skin,and nearly two weeks had passed since she had hired Stone Barfington toget to the bottom of it, with no visible results. She picked up thephone and dialed his office number. His secretary answered."Good morning, Ms. Dart, how are you?" "Terrible, thank you. Let mespeak to Stone.""I'm afraid Stone won't be at work today," the woman said, "andpossibhZ not tomorrow.""He's taking a vacation?" Amanda spat. "On my time?""I beg your pardon?"Amanda got hold of herself. "What I mean is, isStone taking some time off?""He is ill at the moment."Then I'll call his home numbr.""He's not at home, Ms. Dart.""Where, then, is he? I want to speak to him immediately.""He's in Lenox Hill Hospital.""What?" She hoped to God he hadn't had a heart attack on her."He's at Lenox Hill, but he can take phone calls. I'll give you thedirect number for his room."Amanda scribbled down the number. "Thank you," she said, and hung up.She dialed the other number, and it was answered on the first ring."Hello?" "Stone? It's Amanda. You sound terrible." "Thanks,Amanda." "What on earth is V, Long?" "Concussion, they tell me. Theywant to keep me here and observe me for another day." "Concussion? How the hell did you get a concussion?" she demanded, as if aconcussion were a personal affront to her. "Amanda, are you quite allright?" "We're talking about you, Stone." "I suqrised a prowler in myhouse, right before he surised me." "A burglar?" "Maybe. He took mywristwatch and the cash in my wallet." "Maybe a burglar?" "Maybenot." "What's that supposed to mean?" "I think he may have beenbugging my house and phones again." "Does that mean he'll try to do myplace again?" "Possibly, although being caught at it might give himpause. I wouldn't count on it, though." "How can I stop him?" "Hirea security guard, I suppose. Do you want me to find somebody for you? I might be able to get an off-duty cop to sit on your apartment andoffices." "Oh. Yes, I would like you to find somebody for me."I'll make a call or two." "Stone, does this business mean this personis getting violent?" "Not necessarily, unless he's caught in the act.""I do not want to catch him in the act." "That's what the cop will befor. I don't think you have to worry about violence, Amanda; he hasnattacked anyone else but me, and I did get in his way." "I'm relievedto hear it, but I'd still like your policeman to come. How soon canyou get somebody?" "Right after my nap, "Stone said. "They want me totake lots of naps." "Oh, of course, I don't want to interfere withyour recovery." "Don't worry about it; I can still use a phone." "What kind of watch was it?" "What?" "Your wristwatch that wastolen;what kind?" "A Rolex. It had my name engraved on the back." "What kind of Rolex?" "The quartz one; I don't remember what they callit. Why are you worried about my watch?" I was just curious. You goback to sleep, and call me when you've found a guard for me." "I'll dothat," Stone said, and hung up. This was not going well, Amandathought. She called Richard Hickock and was put through immediately."Have you heard?""Heard what?" Hickock asked, as if he weren't sure he wanted toknow."Stone Barrington's in the hospital. Somebody broke into his house andhit him over the head.""Jesus Christ. Does this have anything to do with our problem?""He disconnected the bugging in his house, and he thinks they came backto put it in again. Has he checked your office?""I had it done; both the office and the apartment are clean.""What about.." that little friend of yours?" "That was bugged.Stone's guy figured it out.""I'm hiring a security guard," Amanda said. "I don't want my placebugged again.""I don't blame you," Hickock replied. "I'm having my premises checkeddaily, and I'm not using my cell phone when it counts.""Good God, can they bug a cellular phone?" "A cell phone is a radio;people can listen in if they have the right equipment. I know a guywho's got a scanner thing in his car; he listens to other people'sphone conversations for entertainment while he's being driven aroundtown.""That's disgusting!" Amanda jotted a quick note to herself to askStone how to get a scanner. "Well, that's life these days.""I suppose it is. Do you have anything to report?""Nothing. Is Stone okay?""Yes, he'll be out of the hospital by tomorrow at the latest, or I'mhaving a word with his doctors." "Good, we need him on the job.""Good-bye, Dickie." "Bye." She hung up just as Martha buzzed her."Yes?" "Allan Peebles is on line two." "Peebles? That awful man whoedits the Infiltrator?" "That's him; he's called twice this morningalready. His message is on top of your stack." "What could hepossibly want to talk to me about?" "I've no idea. Do you want me toget rid of him?" No need to court trouble, [he thought. "No, I'llspeak to him." She pressed the button. "This is Amanda Dart." "Amanda, this is Allan Peebles." "Yes?" "We don't know eachother--not really, I mean, but I thought we should talk." "Talk? About what?" "Well, Amanda, you and I are the principal targets ofthis DIRT scandal sheet, aren't we?" "So?" "So, I thought perhaps weshould compare notes." "I don't have any notes, I'm afraid," she said.And if I did have any, she thought, you're the last person on EarthI'd share them with."Tell me, have your telephones been bugged?" She paused. "Why do youask?""I thought so. Where can we meet?""I suppose you could come to my office." She certainly was not goingto be seen in public with this man."Oh, no, I'm not talking anywhere that might be bugged.""Just what is it, exactly, you want to talk about?" she asked."I'm not going to talk about it on the phone." "How long are you intown for?" "Until the day after tomorrow.""I've got somebody working on this; I'll have him get in touch withyou?"Listen to me, Amanda; I probably know more about this than you do, butI'm not talking to anybody else. It will have to be you and I,face-to-face."Amanda thought for a moment. "You be on the corner of Madison andSeventy-second Street, outside the Ralph Lauren sports store, on thewest side of the street, at four o'clock today. I'll be in a blackMercedes Six Hundred.""Fine."She hung up. "God," she said aloud, "some of the people you have todeal with in this business!"2; oCHAPTERDino showed up at the hospital as Stone was getting dressed to leave."Where are you going?" he demanded.."Home. I can't stand it here anymore." "Are you nuts? You lookribtten." ..: "I'm fine." He didn't really feel all that great, buthe thought he would feel better in his own bed."Has a doctor discharged you?""Yes; I didn't give him any choice. Can you give me a lift?" heasked, holding up his slippers. "I don't have any shoes.""Yeah, okay. At least I'll know you didn't pass out on the street."The phone rang, and Stone picked it up. "It's Arrington; how are youfeeling today?" "Well enough to go home.""Really? "Well, I ache all over, but apart from that, I'm fine." "Want me to come get you?" "Dino's giving me a lift." "I'll drop byto see you a little later; maybe feed you some chicken soup." "Soundsgood." "See you." She hung up. "That Arrington?" Dino asked. "Yep.""Looks like you might have something good going there, pal." "Maybe.Sometimes she gets.a little crazy." "Only sometimes? Yore're a luckyman; I could tell you about crazy." "You found an apartment yet?""Yeah, and they've accepted our offer." "How much?" Dino lowered hisvoice. "You ready for this? Seven hundred thou and change." "Sevenhundred thousand?" "And change." "You have a very generousfather-in-law." Dino shook his head. "He just wants her to shut upabout it, like me. He'd pay twice that, if she'd shut up about it.""Where is the apartment?" "East Sixty-sixth, between Fifth andMadison." "Uptown!" "Yeah. We've still got to go before the coopboard.""Relax, they'll be delighted to have a cop in the building. You mightlet drop that you can get the patrol frequency increased on the block.""Good idea. I can do that, too; I'll have a foot patrolman by thereevery hour." "How are you going to dress?" "In a suit, I guess." "Want me to loan you one?" "What's the matter with my suits?" Dinodemanded indignantly. "They're probably a little too Italian for anEast Side co-op board. A trip to Brooks Brothers or Ralph Lauren mightbea good investment." "I'll think about it. When this board hears ustalk, they might bounce us." "Use your interrogation English." "Huh?""Talk to them the way you interrogate upscale witnesses." "Oh, that. That could work, if I don't let' Mary Arm talk at all." Stone laughed. "Come on, get me out of here."Dino dropped him in front of the house, and Stone climbed the frontsteps more slowly than he'd planned. Helene met him at the door,fussing and in five minutes she had him tucked in bed. "Don't bringfood," Stone said. "There's a lady coming whom you haven't met yet,and she'll want that privilege."Helene went back to her work, chuckling.An hour later, Arrington showed up. He could hear her and Helenecoming up the stairs together, laughing. When they came into the room,Arrington was carrying what looked like a large leather portfolio and apaper bag."I take it you two have met," Stone said."Yes, we have," Arrington said, handing the paper bag to Helene. "Istopped by the deli for soup; can you warm this up?"Helene went to the kitchenette and came back in five minutes with alarge steaming mug.Arrington made him drink it. "Good for what ails you," she said. Whenhe had finished the soup, she opened the leather thing, which turnedout to be a portable massage table. "A little gift," she said."Thanks very much," he replied. "How does it work?"She took a sheet from the linen closet and spread it over the table."Get out of that nightshirt, and hop up here; I'll show you." Sheretrieved a bottle of oil from her large purse.Stone climbed onto the table and stretched out, his face in an openingprovided for breathing.Arrington started with his neck and shoulders. "You've got a verylarge bruise right here," she said, poking the back of his neck. "Isthat sore?" "You bet it is; go easy there."She worked her way slowly down his back and buttocks, letting her handsstray now and then."You keep that up, and I'll forget I'm sick," Stone breathed."Oh, shut up." She moved down to his legs and feet, then had him turnover."What was that angry phone call the other night about?" Stone asked."The one on the machine.""Oh, I didn't want to tell you until you were better.""Tell me what?""Somebody broke into my apartment earlier that evening."Stone sat up, but she pushed him back down. "What was taken?""Very little. I had a coPle of hundred dollars in a dresser drawer; hepassed up my jewelry, thank"That sounds strange.""Especially when you consider that my jewelry box was in plain sight onthe dresser.""How'd he get into the building?"I don't know; the doorman swears nobody got past him.""There's that side entrance that you and I left by one night.""I guess that might be how, if he knew about it, and if he could getpast the lock.""Is there something you're not telling me about this break-in?" Stoneasked."Sort of.""What do you mean, sort of?.""I think Jonathan did it.""Why?""He's been calling, and I've refused to talk to him.There've been some messages on my machine.""I want to hear the tape.""I'm sorry; I was so annoyed that I erased them immediately.""Anything threatening?""Not exactly.""What does that mean?""Well, I didn like his tone; it was.." well, sort of proprietary." Shemoved down to his chest and belly. "I don think I like the sound ofthat." "Neither did I.""I think I should have a little talk with Jonathan." *"I don want you two getting into fights over me." "I don't get intofights." "Jonathan does.""Trust me; I can handle this one.""Whatever you say, sir." She giggled and stroked his penis, which waserect. "Is this the way you say howdy?""Can you think of a better way?""No, sir, I can't," she said, rubbing oil on it. "Is my massage over?"he whispered. "Not by a long shot," she whispered back. "By the way,what's Jonathan's last name?" "Dryer."That rang a bell somewhere with Stone, but at the moment, his mind waselsewhere.CHAPTERman da rode upMadison Avenue in the back of the Mercedes."Paul," she said, "we're going to pick up a gentle man at Madison andSeventy-second, left-hand side, near the corner..... "Yes, ma'am," Paulreplied."I'm going to want to go someplace nearby,park for a few minutes and have a private chat with him. Can you thinkof a good place?""There's a place in the park," Paul said."That will be fine; better get in the left hand lane." Amanda put thearmrest down to separate " her from her unwanted guest, pressed aswitch that put up the sunscreen on the rear window, for privacy, andeyed the corner ahead. "That must be him," she said. "The one in theraincoat." She had?"i: no idea what Allan Peebles looked like, but this was the only loneman on the corner. The car rolled to a stop, and Amanda pressed thewindow button.The man leaned over and looked into the car. "Amanda?""Get in," she replied. The car turned left on 72nd and headed forCentral Park."I'm Allan Peebles," he said, extending his hand.She shook it perfunctorily, then held a finger to her lips forsilence.Halfway through the park, Paul pulled off the road into a small lot formaintenance vehicles and stopped."Give us a few minfites, Paul," Amanda said.Paul got out of the car and walked twenty yards to a bench and satdown, still in view of the car."Now," said Amanda, "what do we have to talk about?""I've always been an admirer of your column," Peebles said."I wish I could say the same." She glanced at her watch."All right, I'll get to the point: Why do you suppose you and I havebeen targeted by this scandal sneer."I haven't the faintest idea," she said. "After all, Richard Hickockhas been targeted, too, and Stone Barrington has been mentioned morethan once, as well as Vance Calder.""With the possible exception of Calder, who was probably an innocentbystander, everybody is connected." "Connected? How could I possiblybe connected with you?" "We're both published by the same people, in amanner of speaking." "What on earth are you talking about? I'mpublished and syndicated by Dick Hickock's company. Stone isn'tpublished by anybody.""Barrington doesn't really come into it, except as your surrogate.""What was that you were saying about 'the same people'-?"Peebles smiled slightly. "You really don't know, do you?" "Knowwhat?" Amhnda demanded, irritably. "About Hickock and us." "Who is'us'?" "The Infiltrator." "What does HickO'ek h ve to dc: With theInfiltrator?" "My father-in-law owns sixty-five percent of the paper,I own ten, and Hickock owns the otherI.:twenty-five percent."' .iAgainst her will, Amanda's jaw dropped.:"Surprised, aren't you?" Peebles asked, smiling."You are out of your mind," Amanda said."Dick Hickock is a legitimate publisher with half a i'ilcompanies--newspapers, magazines,dozen book , '" publishing, the whole gamut." "It's a broader gamutthan you know," Peebles said. "Hickock has a corporate entity calledWindow Seat, Limited; the stock is in the name of his wife'shalf-brother, Martin Wynne." "I didn't even know she had ahalf-brother," Amanda said, interested now. "Neither does just aboutanybody else. I doubt if he'll show up in Dickie's obituary. Wynne isBritish, a friend of my father-in-law. The stock is in his name, butbelieve me, the money is Hickock's, and Wynne doesn't make a movewithout his permission." "How very odd." "It gets odder; Window Seatowns Personality." That dreadful rag?" "Dreadful it may be, but ithauls in the bucks, just as the Infiltrator does. There's more:through two other corporations, Window Seat controls three gay pornomagazines." "This is incredible; I don't believe a word of it." "I'dsay ask Hickock, but I don't think he'd appreciate it. Window Seat isan offshore corporation, and the profits go straight into Cayman Islandaccounts, all tax-free. Hickock spends it in Europe; he never brings adime into the U.S., unless it's in cash." "He does spend a lot of timein Europe," Amanda admitted. "So does Glynnis." "It's profitable forthem to do so." "They spend a lot of time at a friend's chfiteau inFrance." "Owned by Window Seat, or an offshoot.""What you're talking about would be a major scandal, if it were known,""Amanda said. "Why haven you printed this? After all, scandal is yourbusiness.""I told you, we're in bed with Hickock. So are you.""Well, I don't really care about any of this; it's nothing to do withme.""It will be if it ever gets out, and I think that's what this DIRTbusiness is about.""What if it does get out?""There would be a major federal investigation, and the IRS woulcLbe allover Hickock. Can you imagine what that Sort of investigation--not tomention a trial--would do to Hickock's other interests? The stock'inhis various companies? He'd be ruined, and he'd take a lot of peopledown with him. Like you and me.":Amanda was horrified."You've just done a riw deal with him, haven't you?"Amanda said nothing; she stared into the mid' die distance and thoughtabout what a Hickock collapse could do to her."I think you can see why it's in our mutual interests to cooperate witheach other," Peebles said. "The first crack in the dike has alreadyappeared.""Crack?""Glynnis Hickock's divorce action.""You think Glynnis knows about this?""Do you think Hickock could be involved, with her half-brother insomething as complex as this and Glynnis not know about it?""Surely she wouldn't jeopardize Dick's fortune by some intemperateaction," Amanda said. "That wouldn't be in her own best interests.""A woman scorned doesn't always act in her own best interests," Peeblessaid. "Anyway, Glynnis is a wealthy woman in her own right. IfHickock sank it wouldn't cause more than a ripple in her lifestyle. Andif she's mad enough, she could sink him very deep. The odds wouldheavily favor a prison term, and she could plausibly deny allknowledge."Amanda stared at a sluirrel outside the car, her mind racing."I think you can see why this DIRT thing has to be stopped," Peeblessaid.Amanda snapped back to attention. "Yes," she said. "But so far, Idon't have a clue who's involved. Stone Barrington is stillinvestigating,but he's been in the hospital.""Hospital?""Someone... this goes no further.""Of course not.""Someone broke into his house, and when he investigated, he got hitover the head.""I must say, I'm not surprised.""What do you know that I don't know?" Amanda asked."You must understand, I'm in a very difficult position. The...allegations about me in the scandal sheet are very, very dangerous tomy interests. I'm already persona non grata in London, with my wifeand my father-in-law, and if the old man were sufficiently riled, hecould, quite literally, destroy me. I'd never hold a job again,anywhere in the world.""Why is your position any worse than anybody else's in this wretchedbusiness?" Amanda asked."Because I suspect--although I can't prove that one of the people,perhaps the only person, behind DIRT may be someone I was once ...involved with.""A lover?"."That's too strong a term, I think. No, there was never any love init.""Who is this person?" "His name is Geoffrey." "Geoffrey what?""When I knew him--this was nearly a year ago--he called himself Power;but I d .o. bt that's his name. I went through his wallet once, and Ifound three driver's licenses, in different names."Amanda was alert now. "What were the other two names?""I don't remember. I didn't have any reason to, at the time; I figuredthey were aliases, too.""Geoffrey Power. Is Geoffrey his real first name?""I can't swear to it, but I think so. I remember that the initial "G'appeared in the names on all three licenses.""What does he have against Dick Hickock?""I don't know, but I know what he has against me.""What?""After we stopped ... seeing each other, I was very angry with him, andI did something that someone in my position should never do. I usedthe Infiltrator to get back at him.""How?""He was trying to make a career as an actor inL.A." and I assigned a reporter to call a couple of dozen castingdirectors and studios, and let drop that the Infiltrator wasinvestigating him. Of course, no one would have anything to do withhim after that. He left town and, Pthink, came to New York.""What does he look like?""Early to mid-thirties, tall, slender, but well built, light brownhair, highlighted at the ends. He's quite beautiful, actually."Peebles sounded regretful.Amanda had produced a notebook and was writing furiously. "Have youhad him investigated?Really, I mean?""No; I'm afraid to. I'm afraid of what he'll do.""What do you mean?""He has a somewhat unsavory background. He hinted at working for somegovernment agency at one time, something secret. That may have beenbragging, of course, but I don't really doubt it. He seems to have allsorts of, well, skills that ordinary people never come by. And he hasa violent streak." Peeblesblinked rapidly. "I'm terribly afraid of violence. Also, I can't beseen by anyone to have had an interest in him. I've compromised myselftoo much already; my whole world is hanging by a slender thread." "Iunderstand your position," Amanda said. "Why did you come to me?" "You already have an investigation under way that is not seen as beingconnected with me. Stone Barrington has a reputation as very brightand discreet; if he can track this thing down and put it out ofbusiness--quietly--then we're all safe: Hickock, you, and me." "Isee," Amanda sid. "Tell your investigator as much of what I've toldyou as you feel is necessary, but for God's sake, keep my name out ofit, if you possibly can. I don't know any more than I've told you, sothere's no point in my speaking directly to Barrington. Will you dothat?" "I'll have to think abbut this," Amanda said. "About the bestway to approach it. Of course, I'll keep your name out of it... if Ican." Peebles's face fell; he obviously knew that his fate was in herhands. "I would be very, very grateful," he said. Amanda lowered herwindow and waved at Paul. In a moment they were rolling back towardthe East Side. "Where can I drop you?" Amanda asked. "Anywhere,"Peebles said disconsolately. "It really doesn't matter."CHAPTERn the morning following his return from the hospital, Stone felt wellfor the first time since his encounter with the intruder. He wassitting at his desk, trying to make some sense of the work that hadaccumulated, when his secretary buzzed. "Yes, Alma?" "Bob Cantor ishere to see you," she said. "Send him in." Cantor was,uncharacteristically, wearing a business suit. "How you doing, Stone?Recovered?" "Much better, thanks." "This guy is some piece of work,huh?" "Apparently so. Have you got something for me on the maid andthe driver?" "Right." He got out his notebook. "The maid,Gloria, lives in Queens; she rides in every morning with the driver,Paul, and takes the subway home. She's divorced, lives alone, sees alot of her sister. The neighborhood storekeepers like her. Most ofthem give her credit, and she pays on time. She's Hungarian, a devoutCatholic, teaches catechism to kids at her church. Hard to imagine astraighter arrow. I got a look at her phone bills; she makes very fewcalls, none of them long distance. Nine out of ten are to her sister,her priest, and Amanda Dart. I tapped her for three days, she got fourcalls, all of them from her sister. I honestly think that to do moreon herjs a dead end.""I agree. What about the driver?""Paul is something of a character in his neighborhood. He's greg ariis, plays the ponies in a small way and, on his day off, takes thetrain into the city and sits in a brokerage office watching the ticker.He's got a couple of hundred thousand in investments, not bad fora'hauffeur, and he deals in used cars, one at a time--buys them, fixesthem up, and sells them for a profit. He's good on his bills andmaintains a healthy bank balance, in the low five figures, in aninterest-bearing checking account. I guess he keeps that much on handin case he finds a car he wants to buy. He's pretty honest aboutselling the cars, doesn't lie abot their condition, and he gets repeatcustomers. One little niggling thing, for whatever it tells you: Hecheats Amanda when he sells her cars.""How?""She gives him ten percent to sell them, but he takes fifteen to twentyin the end. This was easy to figure out from his recent bankstatements. Still, he always gives her book wholesale. I don't wantto make too much of this."Stone laughed. "I can't say that I blame him. Amanda is the kind ofwoman who has to be annoying to work for a lot of the time, even if heis well-paid. Anything else that troubles you about either of thesepeople?""Nope. All in all, I'd say that Amanda Dart has herself first-ratehelp in every department. Except maybe Martha, who could have aweakness." "What has the bug turn, edup?""The guy who calls never uses his name; she recognizes his voice. He'sgiving her a pretty hard time, I think; he could be at the point ofdumping her, but he hasn't yet. She hasn't seen him since I've been onthis. I get the feeling that he thinks he might still need her forsomething, so he's keeping his hand in, so to speak. I've got thetapes if you want to hear them, but they're all brief; the guy doesn'tlike to talk on the phone. Tell you the truth, I think that if there'sa leak in Amanda's office, it's got to be Martha.""I've been resisting that idea myself, becaus Amanda seems so certainthat it's not Martha, but after what you've told me about the others,and about these phone calls, I agree that she has to be our girl. I'mnot entirely certain about Barry yet, because he screws so many people,we could never keep track. But it's looking an awful lot likeMartha.""Are you going to tell Amanda that?""Not yet. I don't want to ruin their relationship without some hardevidence, and we're not doing very well on coming up with that. DidAmanda talk with you about some guard work?""Yeah; a guy I know is going to handle it. He'll come into the officewhen she closes and sit on it until her people arrive in the morning. Iswept the place again, and she's still clean. Maybe I ought to haveanother look around here, too.""Okay, go ahead; check back with me when you're finished. There'sOmething else I want to talk with you about.""See you in half an hour," Cantor said, and left the office.Stone started dictating correspondence and signing checks; he had justfinished when Cantor returned. '"Well, I'll tell you," the ex-cop said, flopping down in a chair, "thisguy is some piece of work.He's done the phones again.""Jesus.""I guess while you were napping the other evening, he calmly went abouthis business. It's just the phones, though; I didn't find anything,else.""Did you screw up his work?"Cantor held up a handful of wires and devices. "I yanked it. No needto be subtle anymore."S'JAR WOODS"You had any luck with this guy in the bar who has the signature withthe wires?""I almost forgot; I talked to him for half an hour last night; thesignature is something he was trained to do.""Who taught him?""A federal agency, is all I could get out of him; he denied that it wasthe CIA. Maybe the National Security Agency."Stone shook his head. "Aren't they more into the wireless sort ofsurveillance?""Yeah. It could be some group we don't know about--maybe evensomething illegal.""Do you really think that sort of stuff still goes on?"Cantor shrugged. "Who knows? There are a lot of guys on the streetwho used to work for somebody in D.C. Maybe he's that type.""Maybe. Listen, Bob, there's something else." "Shoot.""How good are you on your feet?""I'm okay; I used to study karate pretty seriously, and I box once ortwice a week at my gym. What is it you need, Stone?""There's a guy needs talking to, and to tell you the truth, I'm notsure I'm up to it just yet. He's been harassing a friend of mine, awoman, and I want a stop put to it.""So is this guy muscle, or something?""She says he gets into fights; I have no idea how good he is at it."2;0"What exactly is it that you want done?" "I want the fear of God putinto him. I'm not talking about leaning hard on him, but if he reactsbadly, I don't want him to come out of it with the upper hand." "Youthink this guy might be the one wiring all these places?" Stone shookhis head and pushed a copy of Vanity Fair across his desk. "This isthe guy; he's a male model, at least some of the time. Theconnection's with this girl, whose name is Arrington; not with the DIRTthing." Cantor looked at the pic, t re. "I can handle it." "There'ssomething else, 'something I only just found out." "Yeah?" Stonehanded him a slip of paper. "His name is Jonathan Dryer; that's wherehe lives. Arnie Millman got clipped in the alley next to thebuilding." ": "You think the two things are connected?" "I can't seehow, but I don't like coincidences. I thought you ought to know aboutArnie, though." "Yeah, I'm glad you told me." "If your talk with himturns up anything that makes you think he might be connected with Arnieby more than just geography, then we'll bring Dino into it." Cantornodded. "When you want this done?" "The sooner the better." "Youthink he might be at home now?""Only one way to find out."Cantor stood up. "I'll check him out.""If he's not there, maybe you could take a look around his place, seewhat he's about.""Sure thing.""Give your bill for the other work to Alma, and she'll cut you a check.What do you want for the Dryer business?""Let's see how it goes," Cantor said. "He might be a pushover.""As long as you're ready for him, if he isn't.""Don't worry about me." Cantor left and closed the door behind him.CHAPTERAmanda had thought long and hard overnight about what to do, and herfirst decision, characteristically, was to protect herself. She calledher lawyer, Bill Eggers, at home."Morning, Amanda.""Bill, I want to ask you a hypothetical--very hypothetical-question.""Shoot.""In the unlikely event that I felt I really had to, could I get out ofmy contract with Dick Hickock?""What?""Now, Bill, I told you this was hypothetical; don't get upset.""Amanda, you've only just signed the contracts; it's a terrificdeal!""Bill, you haven't answered my question.""The answer is no, not unless Hickock were willing to release you.""Nothing I could do, if I wanted out?""It's more about what he could do. He could prevent any othernewspaper or magazine from publishing you. All you could do would beto beg him to let you go. What's this about, Amanda?""Bill, this isn't going to happen; I just like to know where I stand,that's all.""The only way you could get out would be nonperformance on Dick's part.As long as he pays, you're stuck with him.""Thank you, Bill; just forget I asked, all right?" "Asked what?""Bye, Bill." She hung up. Well, that was bad news; if Dickie starteddownhill, he could drag her with him, and all the way to the bottom.She was going to have to nail whoever was publishing DIRT. She hadnailed lots of people in her time, but Amanda was not accustomed togoing after faceless people with no fixed address.She picked up the phone to call Stone, then hung up again. She didn'twant to tell him about Hickock's sub rosa business activities; afterall, he was also representing Dick in this matter; she had given himpermission to do so. Oh, well, she didn't have to tell him everything.She picked up the phone again and got connected."Stone, darling, I have some information that might be of help," shesaid.2J4"I'm all ears," Stone replied. "You remember the issue of DIRT thatfeatured Peebles, the editor of the Infiltrator?" "Yes." "Peebles andI had a chat yesterday; he thinks that an old boyfriend of his mighthave something to do with this, might even be the one behind it." "What's the old boyfriend's name?" "Geoffrey, spelled the English way,Power. At any rate, that's what he called himself. Peebles thinks hemight use more than one name. He's a failed actor, in L.A.anyway--actually, he failed out there because Peebles screwed him withthe studios. He could be in New York." "You have anything else on himthat might help me locate him?" "A description." "Shoot." She readfrom her notes. "Early (o mid-thirties, tall, slender, but strong,sandy hair. Peebles says he's quite beautiful." "Anything else? Anaddress, a phone number?" "Afraid not, but Peebles thinks he might bein New York; he pulled out of L.A." "I'll see what I can come upwith." "Bye." Stone's immediate thought was that the description fitthe man who had been following Tiffany Potts, who looked like the manin the magazine, who MoreLess
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