Orchid Beach

CHAPTER

50

Holly sat at Jackson’s dining table and listened to Rita’s report. Ham had joined the group, and was intent on what she had to say. Harry Crisp was thrilled at his agent’s prompt success, and kept saying how lucky she had been.

“Doesn’t sound like luck to me, Harry,” Holly said.

“Thank you, Holly,” Rita said, smiling at her.

“I don’t mean to belittle what you’ve done, Rita,” Harry said. “But I do think you were awfully lucky to get into the com center your first day out.”

“Harry,” Holly said, “Rita manipulated her way into that building—there wasn’t a lot of luck involved. Can’t you give the woman credit?”

“I’ll do better than that,” Harry said. “Rita, I’m giving you a pay grade promotion, just as soon as we get back to the office.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Rita said sweetly.

“We interrupted you; go on.”

“The upstairs looked like the back room of a big bank, or a brokerage house. Everybody had a computer terminal and a phone headset, and they were all talking at once, like at a stockbroker’s. There was almost no paper upstairs. Everything is done on the computers, I guess, and they’ve got major capacity, more than we’ve got in Miami. These guys work like machines, and they only work six hours a day.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked.

“I saw the work schedule on a bulletin board. There are shifts from six A.M. to noon, noon to six, and six to midnight. That’s all I had time to see.”

“Were there any women in evidence?”

“Just Carla and me. Everybody else was a guy.”

“What else did you see?”

“When we came downstairs I came to the end of a hallway and found a big steel door with a security keypad and a palm-print analyzer and a sign saying they’d shoot any unauthorized entrant.”

“That squares with what the construction guy had to say about the basement he built,” Harry said.

“The place is like a fortress,” Rita said. “Thick walls, armored glass in small windows, air conditioners on the roof, not out back, where they might be accessible to tampering. Did I mention that all the computer operators were armed?”

“Weird,” Holly said. “Armed computer operators.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Harry said, “unless they’re trained to make some sort of last stand.”

“Like Waco?” Holly asked.

“Don’t say that word,” Harry said with a shudder. “I was there.”

Holly shook her head. “You can’t pay people to do a Waco, they’ve got to be motivated by some cause.”

“Maybe,” Rita said, “they’re trained to hold the building until everything in it can be destroyed.”

“Now, that makes sense,” Harry said. “The only other building you were inside was the country club?”

“Yes, but only the men’s locker room,” Rita said.

“Anything unusual there?”

“It was a locker room, Harry. There were a lot of dirty towels. I found out about the other buildings from Carla, though. She’s worked there for three years, and she’s cleaned every building on the place at one time or another.”

“And what did she have to say?”

“All the other buildings are normal, except the com center and the security office. They’ve apparently got a real arsenal at the security office, too—lots of weapons. Oh, and all the houses have big walk-in safes, concealed, usually in a library. At least, it sounds like all of them—Carla has seen three.”

“Did you get any chance to see what we think might be gun emplacements?”

Rita shook her head. “I only saw what I could see from the bus, which was houses, the country club, and the village shops.”

“All right,” Harry said, “what have we got here in the nature of a crime?”

“We’ve got the tampering with state criminal records and probably perjury on seventy-one license applications,” Holly said.

“That’s state stuff. What have we got that could justify my going into that place with a SWAT team?”

Everybody thought for a minute.

“What about communications?” Holly asked.

“What do you mean, communications?”

“There must be licenses required for some of that stuff they’ve got out there.”

“Good point,” Harry said. “Bill, you check with the Federal Communications Commission and see if there’s anything we can hang a criminal charge on.”

“Right,” Bill replied.

“What else? Anybody?”

Ham spoke up. “If they’ve got anything in the way of heavy weapons in those camouflaged spots, wouldn’t that be a federal crime?”

“Yes, it would, if it’s heavy enough,” Harry said.

Holly spoke up. “Harry, I think these people are too slick to overtly violate some federal statute. What they’re doing is covert, and unless the NSA can do some code breaking, the only way you’re going to find out what they’re doing is to go in there. So, what I think you should be looking for is not grounds for a SWAT bust, but probable cause for a federal search warrant.”

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Harry said, “and I haven’t heard anything from the NSA today.”

Bill spoke up. “I’ve got something I’d like you to hear from the bug in Barney Noble’s car,” he said. “There was a lot of ordinary chitchat that is of no interest, but then this happened.” He set a tape machine on the table and turned it on. There was the sound of the car running, then slowing, then the squeak of brakes and the sound of a car door opening and closing. “Rear door,” Bill said. “Somebody got into the backseat, and you can barely hear him talk.”

“What’s happening?” Barney Noble’s voice said.

There was a mumbled reply.

“She doing anything unusual?”

“Nah,” the voice said. “Routine stuff.”

There was the sound of paper crackling, and Noble spoke again. “Here’s this week’s money. Call me if anything comes up.”

“Okay,” the voice said, then the rear door opened and closed again.

“He must be talking about you, Holly,” Harry said. “It’s got to be one of your people. Did you recognize the voice?”

“No. Play it again, Bill.”

Holly listened carefully to the tape. “Hurd? You recognize anybody?”

Wallace shook his head. “It’s too faint. It could be anybody. Is there any way to enhance it, Bill?”

“Yeah, but I’ll have to send it to Miami,” Bill replied.

“Do that,” Harry said. “And next time, bug the backseat, too.”

“Yeah,” Bill said.

“Rita, how thoroughly were you searched?” Harry asked.

“Thoroughly enough to get groped, but not all that thoroughly. I had already changed out of my clothes into a jumpsuit, and that didn’t have any pockets.”

“Did you keep the jumpsuit?”

“Yeah, they told me to.”

“Bill, take a look at the garment and see if you can hide some bugs in it for Rita to take in.”

“Okay.”

Rita shook her head. “That’s not the best way, Harry.”

“What have you got in mind?”

“Well, nobody looked up my ass with a flashlight, or up anywhere else.”

“I think I see your point,” Harry said.

“Bill,” Rita said, “do you think you can find a canister of some sort, say four inches long by an inch in diameter?”

“Probably.”

“Would that hold some bugs?”

“Four, maybe half a dozen.”

“No sharp corners, okay?”

“Sure, Rita.”

Rita looked around the table. “I’ll shoot anybody who smirks,” she said.