Trader of secrets

Chapter Thirty-Five

The moment Sarah came back into the room, she heard the tinny voices coming from the telephone receiver. Herman was in the back bedroom talking to Sarah’s dad over the phone in Paris. She remembered the receiver was still off the hook and hung it up. “Sorry.”

“That’s OK,” Adin said. “You’re busy.” Bugsy, Sarah’s dog, and Adin were still camped at the couch, a budding love affair. “Maybe I should come back some other time.”

“No, that’s all right. You don’t have to go.”

“Actually I do,” Adin started to get up. “I was headed to the range to do some targets. I thought perhaps you might want to come along.”

“You mean shooting?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d love to. But I don’t know if I can get away.” She glanced down the hall toward Herman’s room. “I need to put together something for his dinner. And I’m not sure I should leave Herman alone with the dog.”

“Who, this guy?” Adin looked down at Bugsy. “He’s a pussycat.”

“Yeah, with you. If he gets frisky and jumps on Herman, I’m not so sure.”

“How bad is he?” Adin lowered his voice so Herman wouldn’t hear.

“He’s going to be fine. Doctor said he should rest, no heavy lifting for at least six weeks. Let me see what I can find for dinner.” She turned toward the kitchen. “Where do you shoot? Is it a long drive?”

“I walk. It’s two blocks. It’s at FBI Headquarters. They have an indoor range downstairs. Pistol loads only. But you can do some full automatic stuff if you want, MP5s and the like.”

“Really? What’s an MP5?” She looked at him from the kitchen, brown eyes big as she pulled a pan out from under the counter. “Would you like something to eat? Sorry, I should have asked earlier.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Something to drink?”

“No, really, I should be going.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I said I wasn’t hungry.”

“Sit down,” said Sarah.

“If you insist.” Adin slumped back down onto the couch, sprawled his tall, lean frame against the sofa, and draped his arm over the back. Bugsy took the move as a signal to relax and dropped his chin across Adin’s knee.

“You were going to tell me what an MP5 was.” She hustled about in the kitchen getting dinner ready.

“Oh. It’s just a light submachine gun,” said Adin. “Used mostly for breaches, hostage situations, close encounters. It has a short barrel. Some people think it’s kinda fun to shoot. There’s not much recoil. I usually just fire the sidearm.”

“Which is?” Sarah wanted to keep him engaged. She was still weighing the idea of going to the range; that is, if she could get dinner ready and lock Bugsy in one of the extra bedrooms.

“It’s a bureau-issued Glock 22. They loaned it to me while I’m here. I don’t usually carry, but I can.”

“Where is it? Do you have it with you?”

“No, it’s back in my room.”

“What’s back in the room?” The sound of Herman’s voice caused Bugsy’s head to whip around.

“Heel!” When Adin looked up, he saw a big black guy, maybe six foot four, standing in the entrance to the hallway. He was wearing a white terry cloth robe that was at least four sizes too small for him.

“What are you doing up?” said Sarah. “The doctor said you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Yeah, well, call the doctor, tell him to come over and get flat on his back in bed for three weeks,” said Herman. “I’m fine. I’m feelin’ pretty good.” He looked back toward Adin on the couch. “You gonna introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Sarah. “This is Adin Hirst; he lives just down the hall. Adin, this is Herman Diggs. Herman works for my dad.”

Adin started to stand.

“Don’t get up,” said Herman. “I may be feeling pretty good, but I don’t need a face full of dog. Haven’t seen that animal that relaxed since I moved in.”

“I think Adin slipped him some Valium,” said Sarah. “I’ve almost got dinner ready; are you hungry?”

“Eat a horse,” said Herman.

“I’m sorry I don’t have that, so how about some chicken stir-fry?”

“Sounds good. How about you?” Herman looked at Adin.

“I’ve already eaten,” said Hirst.

“How’d you come to live in the building?” Herman knew that the condo complex was held by the FBI as temporary housing for witnesses in high-profile cases, some of them being slugs on the run.

“I’m here on a training program with the bureau.”

“Ah, local law enforcement?”

“Not quite.”

“Don’t ask him anything more,” said Sarah. “If he tells you, he’s going to have to kill you.”

“Oh, it’s like that,” said Herman. “Well, stamping me out when I’m looking like this is not gonna get you many points. You do better hittin’ a bag lady in a crosswalk. Now gimme a few weeks and maybe I can give you a run for your money.”

“I bet you could. I don’t think I want to go there.” Adin smiled. “Notice how she likes to create conflict? Just like a woman.” He winked at her.

“What do you mean?” said Sarah.

“Get two people who don’t even know each other in a fight. Only a woman can do that.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, but I notice in all the patter I still ain’t heard where you’re from,” said Herman.

“I see what you mean, Sarah. He’s a very good investigator. Once he locks on the target, he’s hard to shake off.”

“And kissin’ my ass ain’t gonna work either,” said Herman.

“I’m here on an overseas foreign training program,” said Adin.

“Yes?”

“I’m not supposed to say anything…”

“Adin was just about to go get his gun,” said Sarah.

“Not on my account, I hope,” said Herman.

“He’s going to the range. He asked me if I wanted to go. Dinner’s ready.” She moved the pan toward a plate on the countertop and scooped the stir-fry into it. “You want to eat in bed?”

“No, I’ll eat out here. Watch a little television.”

“Would you mind terribly if I went? To the shooting range, I mean,” said Sarah.

“You sure you’re supposed to leave the building?” said Herman.

“I’m with Adin. He’s got a gun. I think I’ll be all right,” said Sarah.

“Yeah, but Adin here ain’t givin’ me no references,” said Herman. “And in the absence of your father, I’m what you might call a chaperone.”

“It’s true, we are going to go shoot some guns,” said Sarah. “But I guarantee you I won’t be coming back pregnant, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She looked at Adin. “Maybe you’d like to chime in and second that?”

Adin was now standing, the dog sitting on the floor right next to him. “I, ah, I don’t know what to say.” He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor?”

“Do what you want,” said Herman. “But I was gonna teach you how to shoot, remember?”

“We can still do that,” said Sarah.

“How long you gonna be gone?” Herman didn’t like it.

“We’re only going a few blocks. The FBI building. I’m guessing we’ll be back in, what?” Adin looked at his watch. “Maybe ninety minutes? Two hours tops,” he said.

“You got a cell phone?” said Herman.

“I do.”

“Gimme the number.”

Adin gave it to him as Herman grabbed the pencil from the pass-through in the kitchen and found the pad. “What’s this?”

Sarah glanced at it. “Oh, that’s the information Dad gave me. The hotel where he’s staying and the phone number.”

Herman shook his head and tore the page off the pad. “You don’t want to leave that lying around. Gimme the number again.”

Adin gave him the cell phone number once more.

Herman wrote it down, then plucked the receiver off the phone and punched buttons. A few seconds later, the phone on Adin’s belt began to hum. Then it played Mozart. Herman hung up. “Just wanted to make sure I wrote it down right.”

“I’m putting your dinner on the coffee table,” said Sarah. “You want something to drink?”

“I’ll take care of it,” said Herman. “You guys go so you can get back.”

“Maybe I should lock Bugsy up in the back room,” she told him.

Herman was grabbing a beer out of the fridge. “No, leave him out. He’ll be fine.” He looked at the dog.

Bugsy was sitting up tall next to the coffee table, sniffing the steam coming off the plate of stir-fry.

“But you might want to warn him. He eats my dinner and I’ll eat him,” said Herman.

“He really is a nice dog,” said Adin.

“Yeah, I’ll bet he’d taste real good.” Herman moved with a sullen stride toward the couch. “Move,” he told the dog. And Bugsy did.

Sarah got her coat and purse. She and Adin headed for the door. “We’ll be back as quick as we can,” she told Herman as she turned. “And don’t worry.”

“I ain’t worried,” said Herman. “I ain’t the one goin’ out.”

“See you later.” Sarah smiled and closed the door behind them.

Out in the hall she told Adin: “I’m sorry about that. Herman can be a pain sometimes. It’s just that he’s not terribly trusting.”

“Trust isn’t his job,” said Hirst.

“Still, it’s insulting.”

“Nonsense,” said Adin. “He’s looking out for you. I’m not sure I would trust me.”

She laughed.

“It’s just that since he’s been laid up he’s gotten worse. You have to understand, Herman is a very physical guy. He’s not used to being down. He doesn’t know what it is to be really sick. I know that sounds stupid for a man who was near death three weeks ago. But to Herman it’s simple. You just overcome something like that by sheer will, like flipping a switch. Problem is, when it doesn’t come fast enough to suit him, he takes it out on the people around him.”

“I can tell,” said Adin. “How old is the injury?”

“Two weeks ago he was on a ventilator. Now he’s walking up and down the hall threatening to eat my dog.”

Adin laughed.

“If you want someone like Herman to rest, there’s only one way. You’re going to have to drug him and tie him to the bed,” said Sarah.

“Given what he’s been through, he bounces back well. I’ll give him that.”

“We better pick up the pace, get your pistol, and get out of here. Otherwise he’ll be doing push-ups before we get to the elevator,” said Sarah.