Choppy Water

49

Bess was having breakfast in her room in her nightgown and a robe when there was a knock on the door. She answered it, and Sykes was standing there. She let him in and closed the door. “Good morning.” She went back to her breakfast and motioned him to take a chair at the table. “What’s up?”

“I have some reconnoitering to do today,” he said. “Why don’t you do some shopping? I’m buying.” He laid a black American Express card on the table.

“There’s no limit on that card, is there?”

“There’s a limit on the user,” he replied.

“Better tell me now,” she said. “It will be too late when I’m at Bloomingdale’s.”

“All right, five grand.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Are we attending a ball?”

“You never know,” he said, getting up. “I’ll see you back here in time for dinner. I may have some news then.”

“Let yourself out, will you?” she said, spearing a sausage.

He did so.

She waited awhile then unlocked the door to the adjoining room and rapped on it.

Fisk stood there in his pajamas.

“Are those Bureau-issued?” she asked.

“Come in.”

“No, you come in. Sykes has just left to do some reconnoitering, as he put it.”

“We didn’t hear anything on the wire,” he said, looking alarmed.

“Relax. I don’t wear pearls with my nightgown. Anyway, that’s all he said. Oh, he also said he’d see me for dinner. And he gave me his Amex card and put a five-thousand-dollar limit on my spending.”

“Are you attending a ball?”

“That was my response, too.”

“And what was his answer?”

“He said, ‘You never know.’”

“What do you think that means?”

“I think it means he doesn’t have a venue for an assassination yet. But I suspect he has a means of getting intelligence on that.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Just a hunch.”

“But he won’t be shooting before dinnertime.”

“Maybe not,” she replied, “but who knows?”

Fisk got a call on his cell phone, which he took from his pajama pocket. “Yes? Good. Stay on him, but be careful.” He hung up. “Sykes just left the hotel. We’re following.”

“Good, now get lost. I have to shower and dress.”

Fisk left, and she showered and dressed.

As she was about to leave her room, Fisk came back. “I see you’ve been wearing a cheap wristwatch,” he said. “I brought you a Rolex.”

“What does it do?”

“It tells time. It also performs the tasks the pearls did. Just press the stem once to turn it on and again to turn it off.”

“Got it,” she said, slipping it on. Then she left and headed off to Bloomingdale’s.

Holly sat at the head of the worktable and read through her schedule. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said to the gathered group. She went into her office and motioned for Bill Wright to follow.

He had a copy of the schedule in his hand. “Do you see what I see on this?”

“I see two opportunities,” she said. “St. Mary’s College, where I’m giving an award to a theatrical group, and the Army Intelligence Center, in New Jersey, where I’m giving a speech to the graduating class. I think Jersey looks best.”

“Maybe,” Bill replied. “Sykes and his people already have uniforms, so they can blend in out there. On the other hand, security is tight at that center, so making an escape after the fact could be a problem.”

“Which do you think?”

“I want to send people to both and thoroughly check them out.”

“I’ll look forward to your decision,” Holly said. “Now, I have to get back to work.”

Bill left, and Holly returned to the long table. “This is approved,” she said, waving the schedule. “What’s next?”

Bess was in a dressing room at Bloomingdale’s, trying on a dress, when there was a rap on the door.

“Yes?” she said, expecting a saleslady.

The door opened a crack. “Are you decent?” a male voice asked.

“Tom? Come in.”

Tom Blake walked into the booth, looking embarrassed. “Excuse me, but I need to speak to you about Sykes.”

“All right.” She turned her back to him. “Zip me up, will you?”

Tom zipped her up. “This morning, did you tell Fisk everything Sykes said to you?”

“Yes, I think so. Sykes wasn’t there long. Why do you ask?”

“We’ve lost him,” Tom said.

“Have you got people at the Army Intelligence Center and at St. Mary’s?”

“Not yet; we were supposed to follow him wherever he went.”

“Well, since we suspect him to use one of those two places, you’d better cover both, hadn’t you?”

“I’ve requested more people from New York’s FBI station.”

“Do you expect they’ll honor your request?”

“Yes, but they can be slow.”

“I’m sorry, Tom, but my next problem is which dress to buy. You’re on your own.”

Tom made to leave.

“Oh, one other thing,” she said. “Does Sykes have anyone following me?”

“We haven’t spotted anybody, but behave as though you’re being tailed.”

“In that case, you’d better not be seen leaving this dressing room, or I’ll have to scream for security.”

“Thanks for your help,” Tom said.

“Anytime.” She went back to trying on garments. She particularly liked the selection of silk blouses.