him. “A nasty present I found in my garage,” he mentioned with maddening casualness. “Five pounds of marijuana. High-grade stuff, planted in my home to frame me. Enough to get me five to ten, my lawyer tells me. Can you imagine anybody doing something so slimy and stupid?”
Apparently not; at least, nobody ventured a response. Blank expressions all around; two sincere, two faking it for all they were worth.
Jack pushed back his chair and gazed thoughtfully at theirfaces. “The boys you sent were good, but lazy. Here’s one of the things they overlooked: electronically activated cameras in the ceiling that switch on in the event of a break-in.”
Walters took a stab at playing innocent and with a loud show of indignation declared, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And I don’t like being treated like I’m stupid.”
“I’m not—”
“Mitch, listen before you open your mouth. I have some expensive artwork, and in addition to the cameras, my alarm is dual-wired and my home is flooded with infrared beams. It gets me a nice discount from my insurance company. A signal is sent to Vector, with a simultaneous signal to a private security firm I’d prefer not to disclose.”
“So what?” Walters said as if he could care less.
“So my security firm dispatched a few people to my house. For over two hours the burglars rummaged around inside. Naturally, my people became curious. Where was Vector’s response? And why did the burglars remain inside so long?”
Jack let the questions linger in the air for a moment. Bellweather and Walters weren’t about to surrender or retreat, and both shrugged as though it was a complete mystery and they were dying to hear the answer.
Jack looked directly at Walters. “It was as if they knew I was in Washington and wouldn’t be back till midnight. So my boys staked it out until the burglars were finished, then trailed them.”
“Jack, Jack, I have no idea what you’re getting at,” Walters protested, his tone up about three octaves, nearly vibrating with innocence. He was battling an irresistible temptation to get up and flee. “You’re not inferring we had anything to do with this?”
Jack ignored him and pushed on. “Here’s where it gets more interesting. Afterward, these burglars—three of them, if you don’t already know—checked into a Best Western on 95, a few miles outside Princeton. Spent the night, had a nice leisurely breakfast at a local diner, and left plenty of fingerprints and DNA traces in their wake. The DNA and prints were collected, then run through a national database. One was a black hole, a cipher. The other twoare former military. Their prints and DNA are on file and easily accessed. After the Army, they fell off the map, though I would bet they continued in government service of some sort. Probably CIA. What do you think?”
Bellweather, in his most deeply paternal tone, and with a frown so sorrowful it verged on tears, took his best stab. “Look, we’re sorry to hear about the break-in, Jack, all of us.”
“Are you?”
“Sure. It’s a lousy world filled with crooked people. I’m sure you live in a big, prosperous house, the kind that attracts burglars. But don’t go paranoid on us. CG doesn’t do this sort of thing.”
“The burglars work for a security firm here, in D.C.,” Jack continued—the denials were expected, his expression said. “TFAC, it’s called. Can anybody help me out? I’ll be damned if I can figure out what the letters stand for.”
By now Bellweather’s face was red and his jaw was clenched. “That’s enough, Jack. You’re barking up the wrong tree. It’s a disgrace coming in here accusing us of this.”
Jack stared at him a long moment, then bent down and dug around in his suitcase again. He flipped a large black-and-white photo onto the table. “The TFAC headquarters,” Jack said. Then, in an effort to be helpful, he pointed at the building in the background. “Who does
Apparently not; at least, nobody ventured a response. Blank expressions all around; two sincere, two faking it for all they were worth.
Jack pushed back his chair and gazed thoughtfully at theirfaces. “The boys you sent were good, but lazy. Here’s one of the things they overlooked: electronically activated cameras in the ceiling that switch on in the event of a break-in.”
Walters took a stab at playing innocent and with a loud show of indignation declared, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And I don’t like being treated like I’m stupid.”
“I’m not—”
“Mitch, listen before you open your mouth. I have some expensive artwork, and in addition to the cameras, my alarm is dual-wired and my home is flooded with infrared beams. It gets me a nice discount from my insurance company. A signal is sent to Vector, with a simultaneous signal to a private security firm I’d prefer not to disclose.”
“So what?” Walters said as if he could care less.
“So my security firm dispatched a few people to my house. For over two hours the burglars rummaged around inside. Naturally, my people became curious. Where was Vector’s response? And why did the burglars remain inside so long?”
Jack let the questions linger in the air for a moment. Bellweather and Walters weren’t about to surrender or retreat, and both shrugged as though it was a complete mystery and they were dying to hear the answer.
Jack looked directly at Walters. “It was as if they knew I was in Washington and wouldn’t be back till midnight. So my boys staked it out until the burglars were finished, then trailed them.”
“Jack, Jack, I have no idea what you’re getting at,” Walters protested, his tone up about three octaves, nearly vibrating with innocence. He was battling an irresistible temptation to get up and flee. “You’re not inferring we had anything to do with this?”
Jack ignored him and pushed on. “Here’s where it gets more interesting. Afterward, these burglars—three of them, if you don’t already know—checked into a Best Western on 95, a few miles outside Princeton. Spent the night, had a nice leisurely breakfast at a local diner, and left plenty of fingerprints and DNA traces in their wake. The DNA and prints were collected, then run through a national database. One was a black hole, a cipher. The other twoare former military. Their prints and DNA are on file and easily accessed. After the Army, they fell off the map, though I would bet they continued in government service of some sort. Probably CIA. What do you think?”
Bellweather, in his most deeply paternal tone, and with a frown so sorrowful it verged on tears, took his best stab. “Look, we’re sorry to hear about the break-in, Jack, all of us.”
“Are you?”
“Sure. It’s a lousy world filled with crooked people. I’m sure you live in a big, prosperous house, the kind that attracts burglars. But don’t go paranoid on us. CG doesn’t do this sort of thing.”
“The burglars work for a security firm here, in D.C.,” Jack continued—the denials were expected, his expression said. “TFAC, it’s called. Can anybody help me out? I’ll be damned if I can figure out what the letters stand for.”
By now Bellweather’s face was red and his jaw was clenched. “That’s enough, Jack. You’re barking up the wrong tree. It’s a disgrace coming in here accusing us of this.”
Jack stared at him a long moment, then bent down and dug around in his suitcase again. He flipped a large black-and-white photo onto the table. “The TFAC headquarters,” Jack said. Then, in an effort to be helpful, he pointed at the building in the background. “Who does
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