surface.
Numbers had been flashing across a laptop on the desk for at least ten minutes. As Frick watched, the man slowly turned the dial through the sequence for the twentieth time.
Suddenly the numbers on the computer stopped at eighty-seven.
"Uh-huh." The safecracker turned the handle and the safe opened.
Inside stood a handmade sign: Fools rush in where angels dare to tread.
As the technician leaned in, an explosion sent sticky black soot everywhere. The technician took the main force of the blast, covered by a harmless but nasty substance.
Frick was largely unscathed, but that was little comfort. They had bet everything on the escrow; if Ben had fudged that, the research would be in the wall safe.
The safe held nothing else, and the clock was ticking on Frick's life.
CHAPTER 10
T his time Rossitter contacted him by phone. Sanker wondered if he had the new shoes on yet.
"We haven't located Ben. Neither has Frick."
"What does Judas say?" Sanker felt as if he'd already had a bellyful of uncertainty.
"He says he doesn't know."
"Has he got his hands on the formula?" Sanker asked.
"Not yet. He says there's only one place and he has to get there. He's not even sure about that."
"Where does he think it is?"
"Like before, he said that's not part of our deal," Rossitter said.
"It's our deal for him to deliver it as a backup."
"He says as long as we have Frick trying, we don't need the backup. He says he'll tell us, though, the minute he has it."
"I have a question," Sanker said, pondering even as he spoke.
"What's that?"
"Are we sure that Judas is a he and not a she?"
There was a long pause. Obviously this hadn't occurred to Rossitter.
"It's a male voice, disguised, but still male. You're thinking Judas could be more than one person?"
"There are a number of possibilities. How do we know for sure that Judas is even a Judas?"
"He told us what Anderson was planning," Rossitter said, while still not sounding certain.
"Judas could be a man, woman, or a group," the old man began. "He could be working both sides, like a double agent, ours and American Bayou's. And Ben Anderson could have been afraid we'd find out he was leaving, anyway, so he devised some kind of test and he's playing us. Keep in mind, the information may not always be true. Remember Judas learns things from us just as we learn from him. Judas could be working with Frick, American Bayou, or some other third party. Who is feeding who, here?"
"I still think it's as it appears. Judas wants money, and we're the biggest source."
"You're right, I suppose, if it's all true. You tell him next time he calls that we demand to know Ben Anderson's whereabouts. Even the manner of his response may tell us something."
"I'll do that. For now, I recommend that we stick with the plan."
"Do we have a choice?" Sanker sounded as irritated as he felt. He wanted to be proactive, not reactive, and he couldn't find a way to get complete control and drive events. It was an unaccustomed subservience to history in the making.
Sanker clicked the receiver in Rossitter's ear without saying good-bye in order to signal his dissatisfaction.
Rossitter was typically good under pressure. Maybe he would come up with something.
Twenty minutes later, Frick sat in a small grove of Douglas fir and watched the undersheriff, Roy Knauff, through the branches. In preparing for the weekend, Frick had made a special point of learning the undersheriff's likely whereabouts. The undersheriff, Frick discovered, was tight with his cousin, an electrical contractor on the island. Sure enough, Frick's hired man had followed the undersheriff to his cousin's house and he was here kicking back just as his man had promised.
Meanwhile, Frick had the department working on a new front. They were close to obtaining a search warrant for a safe-deposit box that Ben Anderson rented. Anderson's secretary, Sarah James, had told Frick about the box when she called looking for Anderson. He doubted the search
Numbers had been flashing across a laptop on the desk for at least ten minutes. As Frick watched, the man slowly turned the dial through the sequence for the twentieth time.
Suddenly the numbers on the computer stopped at eighty-seven.
"Uh-huh." The safecracker turned the handle and the safe opened.
Inside stood a handmade sign: Fools rush in where angels dare to tread.
As the technician leaned in, an explosion sent sticky black soot everywhere. The technician took the main force of the blast, covered by a harmless but nasty substance.
Frick was largely unscathed, but that was little comfort. They had bet everything on the escrow; if Ben had fudged that, the research would be in the wall safe.
The safe held nothing else, and the clock was ticking on Frick's life.
CHAPTER 10
T his time Rossitter contacted him by phone. Sanker wondered if he had the new shoes on yet.
"We haven't located Ben. Neither has Frick."
"What does Judas say?" Sanker felt as if he'd already had a bellyful of uncertainty.
"He says he doesn't know."
"Has he got his hands on the formula?" Sanker asked.
"Not yet. He says there's only one place and he has to get there. He's not even sure about that."
"Where does he think it is?"
"Like before, he said that's not part of our deal," Rossitter said.
"It's our deal for him to deliver it as a backup."
"He says as long as we have Frick trying, we don't need the backup. He says he'll tell us, though, the minute he has it."
"I have a question," Sanker said, pondering even as he spoke.
"What's that?"
"Are we sure that Judas is a he and not a she?"
There was a long pause. Obviously this hadn't occurred to Rossitter.
"It's a male voice, disguised, but still male. You're thinking Judas could be more than one person?"
"There are a number of possibilities. How do we know for sure that Judas is even a Judas?"
"He told us what Anderson was planning," Rossitter said, while still not sounding certain.
"Judas could be a man, woman, or a group," the old man began. "He could be working both sides, like a double agent, ours and American Bayou's. And Ben Anderson could have been afraid we'd find out he was leaving, anyway, so he devised some kind of test and he's playing us. Keep in mind, the information may not always be true. Remember Judas learns things from us just as we learn from him. Judas could be working with Frick, American Bayou, or some other third party. Who is feeding who, here?"
"I still think it's as it appears. Judas wants money, and we're the biggest source."
"You're right, I suppose, if it's all true. You tell him next time he calls that we demand to know Ben Anderson's whereabouts. Even the manner of his response may tell us something."
"I'll do that. For now, I recommend that we stick with the plan."
"Do we have a choice?" Sanker sounded as irritated as he felt. He wanted to be proactive, not reactive, and he couldn't find a way to get complete control and drive events. It was an unaccustomed subservience to history in the making.
Sanker clicked the receiver in Rossitter's ear without saying good-bye in order to signal his dissatisfaction.
Rossitter was typically good under pressure. Maybe he would come up with something.
Twenty minutes later, Frick sat in a small grove of Douglas fir and watched the undersheriff, Roy Knauff, through the branches. In preparing for the weekend, Frick had made a special point of learning the undersheriff's likely whereabouts. The undersheriff, Frick discovered, was tight with his cousin, an electrical contractor on the island. Sure enough, Frick's hired man had followed the undersheriff to his cousin's house and he was here kicking back just as his man had promised.
Meanwhile, Frick had the department working on a new front. They were close to obtaining a search warrant for a safe-deposit box that Ben Anderson rented. Anderson's secretary, Sarah James, had told Frick about the box when she called looking for Anderson. He doubted the search
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