The garage door was open at Lawton Cross’s house and it looked as though it might have been left that way through the night. I had the cab drop me off in the street next to my Mercedes. It didn’t look like the car had been moved, though I had to assume it had been searched. I had left it unlocked and it still was. I put the small bag I had packed and brought with me into the backseat. I then got behind the wheel, started the engine and pulled the car into the open bay of the garage.
After I got out I went to the house’s door and pushed a button that would either ring a bell inside or close the garage door. It closed the door. I went over to the Chevy, slid my hands beneath the hood and felt for the release latch. The steel springs yawned loudly as I raised the hood. I looked down at a dusty but clean engine with a chrome air filter cowling and fan highlighting a painted red block. Lawton had obviously babied the car and had appreciated its internal as well as exterior beauty.
The documents from the investigative file that I had slipped beneath the hood the night before had survived the FBI search. They had fallen and been cradled by the web of spark plug wires on the left side of the block. As I gathered them I noticed that the car’s battery had been disconnected and I wondered when this had been done. It was a smart thing to do with a car that was not going to be used for a while. Lawton probably would have thought of doing it but would not have been able to actually do it. Maybe he had talked Danny through the procedure.
“What’s going on? What are you doing, Harry?”
I turned. Danny Cross was in the doorway to the house.
“Hello, Danny. I just came back for some things I forgot. I also need to use some of Law’s tools. I think something’s wrong with my car.”
I gestured toward the workbench and Peg-Board that lined the wall next to the Malibu. An array of tools and automotive equipment was on display. She shook her head like I had forgotten to explain the obvious.
“What about last night? They took you. I saw the handcuffs. The agents who stayed said you wouldn’t be coming back.”
“Scare tactics, Danny. That’s all that was. As you can see, I’m back.”
I closed the hood with one hand, leaving it partially sprung in the way I had found it. I walked to the Mercedes and reached the documents in through the open window to the passenger seat. I then thought better about that and opened the door, raised the floor mat and put them under it. It wasn’t a great hiding place but it would do for the moment. I closed the door and looked at Danny.
“How is Law?”
“Not good.”
“What’s wrong?”
“They were in there with him last night. They wouldn’t let me in and then they turned off the monitor so I couldn’t exactly hear everything. But they scared him. And they scared me. I want you to go, Harry. I want you to go and not come back.”
“How’d they scare you? What did they say?”
She hesitated and I knew that was part of the scare.
“They told you not to talk about it, right? Not to talk to me?”
“That’s right.”
“Okay, Danny, I don’t want to get you in trouble. What about Law? Can I talk to him?”
“He said he doesn’t want to see you anymore. That it’s caused too much trouble.”
I nodded and looked over at the workbench.
“Then let me just get to my car and I’ll get out of here.”
“Did they hurt you, Harry?”
I looked at her. I think she really cared about the answer.
“No, I’m all right.”
“Okay.”
“Uh, Danny, I need to get something from Law’s sitting room. Should I go in or can you get it for me? What would be better?”
“What is it?”
“The clock.”
“The clock? Why? You gave it to him.”
“I know. But I need it back.”
A look of annoyance came across her face. I thought maybe the clock had been a point of argument between them, and now I was taking it back.
“I’ll get it but I’m telling him you’re the one taking it off the wall.”
I nodded. She went inside the house and I went around the Malibu and found a dolly leaning against the workbench. I took a pair of pliers and a screwdriver off the Peg-Board and went back to the Mercedes.
After throwing my jacket into the car I got down on the dolly and slid under the car. It took me less than a minute to find the black box. A satellite tracker about the size of a hardback book was held to the gas tank with two industrial-size strip magnets. There was a twist to the setup I hadn’t seen before. A wire extended from the box to the exhaust pipe where it was connected to a heat sensor. When the pipe heated up, the sensor switched on the tracker, conserving the unit’s battery when the vehicle wasn’t moving. The boys on the ninth floor got the good stuff.
I decided then to leave the box in place and slid out from underneath the car. Danny was standing there, holding the clock. She had taken the back off, exposing the camera.
“I thought it was too heavy for just a wall clock,” she said.
I started getting up.
“Look, Danny…”
“You were spying on us. You didn’t believe me, did you?”
“Danny, that’s not what I want it for. Those men that came here last -”
“But it is what you put it on that wall for. Where’s the tape?”
“What?”
“The tape. Where did you watch this?”
“I didn’t. It’s digital. It’s all right there in the clock.”
That was a mistake. As I reached for the clock she raised it up over her head and then threw it down to the concrete floor. The glass shattered and the camera broke loose from the clock shell and skittered under the Mercedes.
“Goddamnit, Danny. It isn’t mine.”
“I don’t care whose it is. You had no right to do that.”
“Look, Law told me you weren’t treating him right. What was I supposed to do? Just take your word for it?”
I got down on the floor and looked under the car. The camera was within reach and I pulled it out. The casing was badly scratched but I could not make any judgment about its interior mechanisms. I ejected the memory card the way Andre Biggar had taught me and it looked okay to me. I stood up and held it up for Danny to see.
“This might be the only thing that keeps those men from coming back. You better hope it’s not damaged.”
“I don’t care. And I hope you really enjoy what you see on it. I hope you’re very proud of yourself when you watch it.”
I had no response for that.
“Don’t come back here ever again.”
She turned and went into the house, her hand slapping the wall button, which brought the garage door up behind me. She closed the house’s door without looking back at me. I waited a moment to see if she would reappear and throw another verbal attack at me. But she didn’t. I pocketed the memory card and then squatted down to gather the pieces of the broken clock.