Trader of secrets

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The shadow moving across her Nook reader caused Sarah to glance upward. She found herself looking into angel eyes staring down at her.

“Hello,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“Seems that we are now neighbors.” Adin Hirst was standing there with a cup of coffee in one hand, a bagel in the other, and a smile on his face. “Mind if I sit?”

“No. Help yourself.” Sarah closed the cover on her reader. She had taken to spending a few minutes each afternoon in the small coffee shop on the ground level of the FBI’s condo complex.

“What are you reading?” Adin set the plate with the bagel and his coffee cup on the table, and then sat down across from her.

“Oh, just rereading some of the things I had to read in college. Doing it for enjoyment this time.” Sarah was going nuts up in the apartment, she and the dog climbing the walls. She had an hour every other day in the company of one of the FBI agents to walk the dog. That was it, her only foray out of the building.

“Can I look?” Adin gestured toward the reader.

She handed it to him.

“I’ve seen these, but I’ve never held one.” He hefted it in his hand. “It’s very light, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

He opened the cover. She hadn’t turned it off. “Gatsby. You’re a Fitzgerald fan,” said Hirst.

“You’ve read it?”

He nodded. “Wonderfully written, not a word wasted. Cuts to the soul of his characters like a knife. How many books will this thing hold?”

“They say fifteen hundred, but I’m not sure. It probably depends on the length of the books.”

“That’s amazing. So what do you do, download the books through your computer?”

“No, it’s 3G. Has its own chip. You just go online into their library and order what you want, pay with a credit card, and it downloads in about sixty seconds. I have a Kindle upstairs, same thing, but a different library. That way I get a broader selection of books.”

“Incredible,” said Hirst. “What will the Americans think of next? I’m going to have to look into it.” He smiles and hands it back to her.

“What’s this about being neighbors?” said Sarah.

“I’m now living in the building.” Adin took a sip of coffee. “Whew, that’s hot!”

“Since when?”

“Since yesterday.” He wiped his lips with a napkin. “The lease on my apartment was up. I tried to renew for a short time and couldn’t, so the bureau offered to put me up here until the program is over.”

“I see. What floor?”

“Eight. Same as yours.”

“You are close.”

“Just around the corner.” He smiled at her and nibbled around the edges of the bagel. “How is your dog?”

“He’s fine. But he needs more exercise. He’s starting to give off gas in the evenings. Lies on the carpet and issues forth with silent clouds of death, if you know what I mean.”

He laughed. “If you like, I can take him out and give him a run.”

“That would be good. The only problem is, I need exercise too.”

“I’m not sure they’d let me do that,” said Adin. “I mean, take you for a run.”

“I knew what you meant.” Sarah smiled. “They let us out every other day. Just for an hour, under the gaze of a friendly agent. It’s like being in prison.”

“Actually most prisoners get more yard time than that,” said Adin.

“I don’t mean to complain, but I can’t wait to get home, back to a normal life.”

“And when’s that going to be?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully when my father gets back, I’ll know more.”

“Where are they?”

Sarah almost told him, then hesitated. “Right now I’m not sure. They should be back in a few days.” Sarah knew they were in Paris, for how long she wasn’t sure. She had received a printout of an e-mail message from her father. It was delivered to her by the FBI, but there were few details. “I should have some company in a day or so. Herman, my dad’s PI, is going to be staying with me in the condo…”

“PI?”

“Private investigator. My dad’s a lawyer. He and his partner have a firm in Coronado near San Diego. Herman investigates cases for them. He was injured here in Washington.”

“I see.”

“He’s recovering. They decided to put him up in the condo rather than a skilled nursing facility where they’d have to provide security. His sister who had been visiting him in the hospital had to return to her job in Detroit. They’ll have a nurse on call as needed in the condo. I told them I’d be happy to prepare his meals. It will give me something to do.”

“You probably shouldn’t be telling me all this,” said Hirst.

“Why? Are you going to print it in the newspaper?”

“No. It’s just that it’s best sometimes to keep everything on a need-to-know basis.”

“Need-to-know basis-what’s that, spy talk?”

“No. Well, maybe. Sometimes. But not between you and me.”

“Good. It seems I never get a chance to talk to anybody. The only one I can talk to is Bugsy, and except for the noxious fumes, that’s a one-way conversation.”

“I see,” he said as he smiled.

“Lately I’ve started talking to myself.”

“I’m told that’s not a serious problem until you start answering yourself.”

“And I’ve done that a few times,” she told him.

“The crazy lady in 805,” said Adin. “That’s OK; it’ll be our secret. I won’t tell a soul. Just speak into my lapel.”

“You know, I have wondered if they have cameras and microphones in the rooms,” said Sarah.

“Oh God, I hope not!” Adin said it with a stark look in his eyes. They both laughed.

Sarah liked his face. She liked everything about him. It was hard not to. There was a strange kind of calm about him, something understated that made him seem older than his years. “So tell me about yourself.”

“What, for example?”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“You don’t look that old.”

“I can cut off a leg and show you the rings if you like.”

She laughed. “That won’t be necessary. Where are you from?”

“Another land.”

“Yes, I know. You already told me that. Which one?”

“I’m an extraterrestrial from Delphi X,” he says. “I left my pointed ears out in the car.”

“Give me a break,” she says.

“I’m not supposed to say.”

“I see; so you’re a national security secret, is that it?”

“Not exactly.”

“You could at least be a gentleman and give me a clue.”

Adin held up the bagel, turned it over in his hand, and examined it. Then he looked at her through the hole in the center. “Are you any good at pantomimes?”

“Spyglass?”

He gave her a look of failure and shook his head. Then he licked the bagel, looked at it covetously, and took a bite.

“Bread?”

He gave an angry expression and pointed at the bagel.

“Bagels.”

He didn’t nod, but he smiled.

“Jewish. Israel?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re Israeli! I had a friend in college who was from Israel.”

“Did you like him?”

“He was a she.”

“Ah. Did you like her?”

“I’m not sure how you mean that.”

“I mean, were you attracted to her personally, or was it her personality?”

“Personality.” Sarah gave him a scolding sideways glance.

“Now that that’s settled, I wonder… do you think it would be worthwhile if I had my room scanned for hidden mics and minicams?”

“I don’t know. Do you play with yourself at night?” said Sarah.

“No, but it sounds like I’m going to be.” He snapped his fingers.

She laughed.

“You know, I think it’s going to be very difficult to bring women into this place. I mean, with agents at the front desk and all.”

“You should have thought about that before you moved in.”

“I did, but it’s not working out.” He winked at her, and they both laughed.