by Wally Duff
“She guesses that you installed the bugs and your story is going to be about the supplements and curing breast cancer, not about the supplements making people sick,” David continued.
“If her people do find the supplements in South America before you write the story, you’ll have no evidence of anything evil that she’s doing, so she’ll think she’s in the clear,” Rick said.
“But if her people do find them, Frankie can steal the whole supply,” David said, “and then she’s in real trouble.”
“And if her guys don’t find the supplements, Frankie calls offering to sell a supply to her,” Rick said. “She’ll think we’re behind it and are trying to trap her.”
“But she’s desperate and can’t take the chance that our supplements are fakes so she meets with Frankie,” David said.
“While all this is going on, we’ll be scouring the hospital records for the details Tina alluded to about autoimmune diseases,” Rick said, “and then we can bring dear Diane down for making Fertig’s breast cancer patients sick from selling them the faux supplements.”
“If there is a meeting to buy the fake product, she might have her guys try and eliminate the seller, knowing it’s one of us,” David warned.
“Will that be a problem, Frankie?” I asked.
“Only for her guys,” he said.
110
Monday at noon, I had lunch at Paradise Bakery with David and Rick. They had news for me.
Macy was asleep in her stroller. Kerry didn’t get out of preschool until two.
“Mission accomplished,” David said. “I called Leslie Van Horn right after you left our salon on Saturday.”
“Later that afternoon, while Leslie was doing her hair, he mentioned to Diane that he heard a rumor that Fertig’s supplements and not his surgery cured his breast cancer patients,” Rick said. “She told him she didn’t know anything about it.”
“As she was leaving, he overheard her talking on her cell phone about an eight o’clock dinner engagement at Prime & Provisions,” David said.
“I bet I know where you ate Saturday night,” I said, as I munched on a chocolate chip cookie.
“You got it,” Rick said. “We arrived there at seven thirty, before Diane sat down with her party thirty minutes later.”
“She ignored us,” David said.
“But not for long,” Rick said.
“Leslie and his partner, Larry Carlson, arrived at eight-fifteen,” David said. “And I mean to tell you they swished right up to our table.”
“It was all kissy-kissy and huggy-huggy,” Rick said. “We managed to make a minor scene.”
“Poor Diane’s eyes almost popped out of her head,” David said.
“She stormed out,” Rick added.
“Now she knows you and Leslie are friends,” I said.
“Oh, she most certainly does, honey,” Rick said.
“Close friends,” David said.
“We did our part,” Rick said. “Now what”
“Remember at your salon I suggested we plant listening devices in her home to find out what she’s going to do?” I asked.
“We do,” David said.
“Frankie texted me an hour ago and said he knew a guy who would sell us the listening devices we need, but I told him we should use a few of the ones my terrorist neighbors installed in my house and which have never been removed.”
“Are they active now?” Rick asked.
Whoops.
“I’ve been checking them every morning, but, honestly, I got busy and forgot to do it the last couple of days.”
“Why don’t we drop by and check to see if they’re on?” Rick suggested. “Do you have the equipment to do that?”
“I do,” I said.
“If they are active, is there a safe room in your home?” Rick asked.
“The wine room.”
“I suggest we adjourn, and we’ll meet you there in, say, an hour,” Rick said.
“Great that will give me a chance to feed Macy and put her down for her nap.”
111
An hour later, David and Rick joined me in our wine room. I’d already breast-fed Macy and put her down for her nap.
“What do these bugs look like?” David asked. “Are they wiggly and hairy?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never seen one.”
Rick put his hands on his hips. “Kids, please. In the day, this was part of my life.”
“The sneaky phase?” David wondered.
“It blended in with, ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’ As long as I did my job, my military bosses didn’t say anything. How many do we need?”
“You’re the expert,” I said. “You decide.”
I handed him my black box. He knew what it was. He flipped on the switch. The green light flashed on.
He walked around the computer room. The light turned from green to red and began blinking.
Damn!
He pointed it at the landline on my computer desk. He unscrewed the back of the phone and pointed at what appeared to be a tiny hearing aid battery.
He left it in place and moved around the room, finding one device hidden under the couch, another one in the ceiling light, and a final one that looked like a straight pin stuck in the top of the window drapes.
After an hour of searching each room in our house, Rick was finished. We were back in the wine room. He had a small pile of the listening devices in his hand.
He held one up. “I never saw one like this before. Must be new since I was planting them.” He held up another one. “Same with this one.”
“Do you think Frankie’s guy can make them work for us?” I asked.
“I thought the idea was for her to find them.”
“It is, but if they do work for a while, so much the better,” I said. “We’ll know what she’s planning for us before they’re discovered.”
“What’s the range for these devices?” David asked.
“A few hundred yards,” Rick said. “Frankie can find a spot for his boys to park near her home, so they can record what’s going on.”
“You’ll have to show me how to plant these,” I said.
“Us, honey,” he said. “You can’t do this alone.”
112
It was 11:30 a.m. on Tuesday. Macy was with Alicia. Frankie, Rick, and I were in a Cox Communications truck parked one block away from Diane Warren’s Gold Coast mansion. We wore Cox uniforms and carried equipment boxes with the Cox logo. One of Frankie’s guys provided the truck and uniforms. The devices we were going to plant were hidden in Frankie’s box.
Early that morning, his computer guy corrupted Diane’s entire Cox system. He also diverted the call her secretary made to the real Cox office to one of Frankie’s dedicated cell phones. When the secretary called about the malfunction, Frankie arranged the appointment for us.
We waited for a call from Enzo. He had been following Diane. Frankie’s phone dinged.
Frankie looked at the screen. He turned to us.
“Enzo said she just arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel. He followed her in and saw her going into a charity luncheon. Her name is listed on a poster out in front as a major donor to the charity.”
“She’ll be there at least an hour,” Rick said. “Let’s saddle up and get this show on the road.”
“Enzo’ll let us know if she leaves early,” Frankie said, as he started the van.
He pulled into her circular driveway. We jumped out and walked up to the front door. Rick rang the doorbell.
A burly man with a buzz cut, wearing a poorly fitting cheap blue blazer, answered the door. Frankie nodded toward the man’s hip. The loose coat could not hide the bulge from the gun he carried. Rick stepped forward and handed the man a business card that Frankie had another one of his guys make up.
“I am Richard Dick, a supervisor for Cox Communications,” Rick said. “We were notified that Mrs. Warren is having a problem with our equipment. Since she is such a valued customer, I cam
e with two,” he pointed toward us, “instead of our usual one repair person.”
The guard took his time reading the card. “Your name really Richard Dick?”
“It is,” Rick said. “Is that a problem?”
He checked Rick up and down. “Nah, I guess not.”
We stood in the entry hall. The man didn’t move.
“Sir?” Rick said. “We need to get to work.”
“Dick Dick,” he said. “Musta’ had fun at school with that name.” He laughed. “Ricky Dick. Dickie Dick. Lotta’ ways you could go with that.”
This was the reason Rick had selected the name. He wanted the man to lose his concentration.
“And I’ve heard them all, believe me,” Rick said. “Now can we hurry this up? My employees have other calls to make, and I have to get back to the office.”
“Follow me... Dickie,” he said.
113
The guard led us into a bare-bones office off of the main hallway. There was a metal detector, a chair, and a desk. My stomach began to feel queasy when I saw that a camera was attached to a laptop computer on the desk.
“Take all the crap outta your pockets and step through here,” he said pointing to the metal detector, “one at a time.”
Frankie anticipated this might happen, and we’d left our guns in the van. We each passed through without any issues.
“Now I need to look at your equipment boxes,” he said.
Rick stepped forward. “Please be careful. If you damage any of the tools, we will have to come back.”
He stared at Rick. “If it happens, it happens. I gotta job to do.”
I handed him my metal box. He opened it and took each item out, one piece at a time. When he finished, he left the mess on the desk, forcing me to reload my gear.
He turned to Frankie. “You’re next, pal.”
The guard began unloading Frankie’s tools. He stopped when he came to a magazine Frankie had hidden in the bottom of the box. It was full of pictures of naked women doing unusual things with other naked women. As the guard turned the pages, Frankie began reloading his box.
The man flipped through the last few pages and closed the magazine. “I’m gonna keep this for a while,” the man said as he stepped closer to Frankie. “You guys got work to do.”
Frankie’s face turned red and a vein popped out on his forehead.
The man noticed. “We’re not gonna have a problem here, are we, sport?” the man said to Frankie.
“Whatever trips your trigger, sport,” Frankie said through clenched teeth. “We gotta fix your boss’s system.”
“Before you do, there’s something else,” he said. “We need a picture of each one of you.”
Crap!
We hadn’t planned on this. We had discussed wearing disguises like wigs and glasses, but I didn’t think we would need them. I was wrong.
“You first,” he said, pointing at me.
It was hard for me to breathe, and my knees began shaking, making it difficult to stand completely still as he snapped the picture. He walked over to the computer and punched a few buttons on the keyboard. I put my knees together to stifle the urge to pee in my pants when my picture came up on the screen.
He waited a few seconds and then punched more buttons. “Fuck,” he said to himself. He turned to me. “I gotta take another picture. This one didn’t turn out.”
“Small wonder, pal,” Frankie said. “Every computer in this house is as fucked up as you are. You can screw around with that system all afternoon and it ain’t gonna work.”
The man unbuttoned his coat, giving him easy access to his gun. Before he could do anything, a woman walked into the room. She wore a black suit with a knee-length skirt and low-heeled shoes.
“That’s enough, Charles,” she said. “I’m Rochelle Horrigan, Mrs. Warren’s secretary. We need to get the system up and running before she returns. Please follow me.”
114
One hour later, we climbed into the van and Frankie drove away from Diane’s mansion. One block to the north I saw a black Jetta with darkened windows parked on the street. Frankie slowed down and double-parked across from it. He powered down his window.
The driver’s window slid down, and Luca peeked out. He wore a set of earphones. I could see the top of a boxy machine next to him on the passenger seat.
Frankie nodded. Luca flipped a switch on the machine and several lights came on. He adjusted a knob and listened. He rotated the knob and continued to listen. He turned to Frankie and said something in Italian.
Frankie powered up his window and drove away. “Good to go. Bugs are live and working.”
“Let’s hope Diane says something useful before the security guy finds the devices,” Rick said. “Do you think they sweep the place every day?”
“You saw that guard,” Frankie said. “Think he does any more than necessary?”
“I hope not,” I said. “If he does, we might have another problem.”
“It’s that picture the guard took of you,” Frankie said.
“Yep. If he runs the facial recognition program once the computers come back on line, Diane will know we were there, and then they will for sure scan the house for bugs.”
“You better get to work on finding out about the autoimmune stuff before that happens,” Frankie said. “Hard telling what she might do when she finds out we were in her home. You don’t want another guy with an RPG visiting your house.”
Rick sat in the passenger seat fiddling with one of the listening devices we hadn’t planted. “Remember when I said I hadn’t seen anything like it before?” he asked.
“You told us it was new since the time you did this kind of thing,” I said.
“I was wrong about that,” he said. “It wasn’t made in the U.S.”
“China?” Frankie asked.
“No, Russia,” he said.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“After I saw it at your house, I called a guy I was in the service with, and he checked it out,” Rick said. “Weird that our side is using their technology, but maybe their stuff is better. Or the Russians, and not the FBI, planted that device in your house.”
Words I did not want to hear. Acid began bubbling up into the back of my throat. The thought of the Russians doing that terrified me.
115
On Wednesday, Janet met me at Dinkel’s before the rest of the Irregulars arrived to discuss the Diane Warren story. We sat in the side room.
Before I talked to her, I’d swept the space with my bug detector and found it clean. At least here we could talk without the world knowing what we discussed.
“Frankie told me about the Russian-made bugs,” she said, as she sipped her black coffee. “First the FBI, and now the Russians. It’s kind of like the U.N. is listening in on what you say.”
“Carter has been busy at work, and he hasn’t asked me about the Zhukov story. If he did, I would have to fess up about these recent events.” I swallowed a bite from my plain glazed donut. “Did you run the names of the investors in Zhukov’s fund?”
“I did, and Tony did too.” She watched my face. “Don’t frown like that. He’s better at computer research stuff than I am.”
Never would have guessed that.
“Did either of you find anything?”
“The same facts Linda did. Somebody took off with one hundred and fifty million dollars.”
“And no names stuck out?”
“None. Peebler lost all of his investment. Everyone else did too.”
“Now what?”
“I’m going to run the list again. I’ll go back to when Zhukov started his fund and see if there are any anomalies among the investors before they began giving Zhukov their money.”
The rest of the Hamlin Park Irregulars joined us. They sat down with their coffees and donuts.
“We have to access the MidAmerica Hospital’s medical records and look for recent admissions of patients with autoimmune diseases,” I began. “We need t
o know how many of them were treated by Fertig for breast cancer, then took his supplements post-op and, finally, got sick when they stopped them.”
