Chapter 29

“So, what do we have to do?” Kate asked. “We can’t break in.”

“Not necessary at all,” Travis Stringley said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Stringley looked more like a golf pro than a high-tech nerd. He was a preppie-dressed young man, athletic, and carrying a leather briefcase. Nonetheless, Lyle knew him to be a high-tech genius, even if Stringley never owned a pocket protector. Lyle also knew Stringley rarely let the technicalities of wiretap and invasion-privacy laws interfere with his work.

Stringley had met Lyle and Kate outside the Maxwell Building just before seven o’clock Monday morning. Anyone entering the building before or after business hours or on holidays had to register. They signed Stringley into the building as a vendor, which technically he was. The security guard paid little attention even though the trio arrived to work early on Memorial Day when most of the office staff had the day off.

Lyle was glad Kate agreed to come along, though she’d hardly spoken since he picked her up. Without her help, his plan wouldn’t work. As they rode the elevator to the fourth floor, Kate shifted her feet and kept stealing glances at him. Lyle couldn’t tell if she was nervous, angry, or something else.

“I appreciate your coming up here on a holiday, Travis,” Lyle said. “Thought it would be easier since no one is working today.”

“I owed you one. Besides, I brought my girlfriend with me. We’re going to spend the day here.”

Lyle stepped out of the elevator first and looked both ways, seeing no one. Kate and Stringley followed.

Stringley looked at Kate. “We need to find the IDF closet.”

“The what?”

“It’s the little room where the phone and computer lines come into this floor,” Lyle said. “I forgot to ask you if you knew where it was.”

Kate just stared at Lyle.

“No problem,” Stringley said, “They’re usually easy to find. Let’s look over here.”

Down a hallway, a short distance from the elevators, Stringley investigated a door near the rest rooms. “This must be it. Sometimes they’re unlocked.”

He pulled the knob. It didn’t open.

Kate’s expression was a combination of lowered brows and pursed lips. Lyle motioned for her to step back. Stringley reached into his briefcase, pulled out a small tool, and inserted it into the lock. In seconds, the door was open.

Lyle saw a confusion of wires along one wall of the booth-size room.

Kate glanced nervously over her shoulder, then back at Lyle. “So what do we do?”

Stringley set his briefcase down inside the tiny room. “I’m going to go in here for about a minute and hook everything up. Should be no problem.”

The Ralph Lauren-dressed wire tapper pulled out a slip of paper on which he had Kevin Waterman’s name, phone extension, and office number. As soon as Stringley went into the little room and closed the door, Lyle heard the elevator door. Kate heard it, too. She gestured toward the closet, asking if she and Lyle should duck inside.

Lyle shook his head. He listened. No voices echoed down the hallway, so he assumed that just one person had gotten off the elevator. Footsteps sounded in the hall, but Lyle couldn’t determine the direction. Were they getting louder?

He looked at Kate then saw a figure in the corner of his vision. The skinny woman was as surprised to see them, as they were to see her.

“You startled me,” the woman said. “I didn’t expect to see anyone.” She wore a loose fitting dress and a sour expression.

Kate flashed a smile. “We’re getting started early today, too. I hate to work on holidays.”

As Kate talked to the woman, Lyle realized that Stringley could come out of the closet at any second. He took a slow step back toward the closet and put a foot tight against the bottom of the door.

“I got way behind last week,” said the unhappy-looking woman. “I thought if I came in for a few hours today I could catch up. Don’t tell anyone you saw me, will you?”

Kate smiled again and promised secrecy.

“Smooth,” Lyle whispered when the woman walked away.

Stringley opened the door. “All set. Take a look.”

Kate and Lyle squeezed inside. Light filtered down from a small fluorescent tube fixture above. Dust hung in the air.

“Sergeant--I mean Lyle--said he didn’t want a transmitter or anything complicated. This should do the trick.” Stringley pointed to a small device tucked into a corner shelf. “It’s a low-tech solution, and they work great. Hard to trace.”

“Looks like an answering machine,” Kate said.

“Basically that’s right, but this digital guy works harder. It’ll record every conversation on the Waterman line and it’s voice activated so it only records when he’s talking.”

“The only thing we have to do,” Lyle said, “is come in here and exchange memory cards so we can take them home and listen.”

“I have a good idea who’s going to have to replace the memory cards,” Kate said.

“It’s easy.” Stringley demonstrated. “Just flip this and pull out the card. I put a label on the bottom of the machine. It says, ‘Property of Nostalgia City.’ I even copied the logo. Looks official. If anyone finds it, they’ll think it’s supposed to be here. I’ll give you a little unit you can use to play the recordings.”

“Travis is very resourceful,” Lyle said.