Wild Card

23

Rance Damien checked out of the clinic late in the afternoon, went home, and got drunk on pain pills and scotch. The following morning he went into the office for a scheduled meeting with Henry and Hank Thomas. He found Hank alone in Henry’s office.

“You’re looking better, Rance,” Hank said. “The old man is not feeling well today. He couldn’t make our meeting.”

Damien took this as a possible transition. From here on, he’d have to suck up a bit more to Hank, who, lately, had seemed a little inflated from his flirtation with the presidency. Damien had the feeling that Hank would be trying again in four or eight years, and that he might do some house cleaning with that in mind. He was going to have to become more essential than ever around here, he thought.

“Rance,” Hank said, “I’ve been reassessing the organization, and I’ve come to the same conclusion that Dad and Granddad did: you’re the most capable man on the premises.”

Damien had not been expecting flattery, and he tried to put it out of his mind. “Thank you, Hank.”

“How many more operations?”

“Two or three. My doctor is very pleased with my progress.”

“Well, you won’t be appearing at any board meetings until your, ah, condition has cleared up. It’s been my observation that rich, powerful men are suspicious of people with physical disabilities or even scars. Just shows you how stupid they can be. Still, the next time they see you, I want it to be when you’re fully recovered.”

“I understand, Hank,” Damien said, though it infuriated him. After all, he had received his injuries in the service of those men.

“What are our chances of rebuilding the software we lost in the fire?”

“Nil,” Damien said, “and it would be pointless to try. We were able to succeed before only because we had bribed a man in their management for the information we needed. Now, as a result of our first attempt, they are rewriting all their code.”

“Can’t we bribe someone else there?”

“The best thing is to wait until they’ve perfected the new code, then buy a copy of it from someone there.”

“How long?”

“Perhaps two years.” Damien didn’t know that, but he didn’t want Hank on his back all the time about trying their scam again.

“What about this fellow who posed as the copying-machine technician? Have you identified him?”

“His name is Bob Cantor, from what we’ve picked up while surveilling the girl, Sherry. But he called himself something else when he was in our offices.”

“Haven’t you found his residence?”

“Yes, but it’s owned by a Delaware corporation, and a lawyer’s name is the only one on the deed. It’s possible even he might not know Bob Cantor. There’s no mortgage on the house. His neighbors don’t know him. He seems to live in a kind of bubble he’s made for himself.”

“I’d like him in the East River,” Hank said.

“Believe me, so would I. We actually caught him visiting the house last night, but he disabled our vehicle, and our people couldn’t give chase.”

“What about the girl, Sherry?”

“She’s dropped off the planet. None of the girls here have heard from her. We had our chance, but Hurd and Heather blew it.”

“Didn’t they have a bug on her person?”

“It came off in Nantucket, our last sighting of her. She left in a private jet.”

“This girl can’t possibly have that kind of support at her beck and call.”

“That’s coming from Barrington.”

“Well, we can’t touch him at the moment, since we’re suing him, along with the Times and some of their people. That’s too good a motive.”

“I understand that. Our best bet is to concentrate on Van and Sherry, but we’ve been shorthanded. I’m considering pulling in Hurd and Heather from Maine, but their faces are known to Sherry.”

“I understand that Heather is adept at extracting information from women,” Hank said.

“She has gifts in that area.”

“Then let’s find Sherry and give Heather an opportunity to display her skills. Nobody will notice if Sherry disappears.”

“I agree, but she has already disappeared,” Damien pointed out.

“Surely she must have some family.”

“All dead. She didn’t even list a next of kin on her employment application. She’s apparently alone in the world.”

“From everyone except this Van character,” Hank said. “Find him, you find her. They’re a loose end, and I don’t like loose ends.”

Neither did Damien. He excused himself at the first opportunity and went back to his own office.