“A strange bird,” said Mildred, as she looked up briefly from her knitting.
“Martha, I’m going to post some agents to guard your apartment,” said Adams, who now felt sorry that he had involved her in this tragic mess.
The three were in a conference room in CSAC’s Tenley Circle headquarters in Washington. The other people in the conference room were Mildred, Bateson, and Joyce Ellington. Smith had invited Bateson and Joyce to the meeting because he had a plan to catch the elusive Mr. Grayson.
“This guy is a sicko. Bateson determined that Grayson is into calling singles party lines, deviant sex practices, and other weird stuff. I think we might be able to trap this guy with a decoy.”
“What kind of decoy?” said Martha.
“We thought we could get you to pose for Hustler,” said Bateson as he cast an admiring eye over Martha’ shapely body.
Martha replied, “Watch it, creep!”
“Just joking.”
“Quit clowning around,” said Smith. “I want this creep. He’s responsible for too many dead CSAC people.”
A serious Bateson took up the discussion. “Grayson is obsessed with a particular phone-in service, LUV LINES. From his telephone bills, it seems that he spent an inordinate amount of time on the phone to this one service. My proposal is that we monitor this service and when Grayson calls, try to set up a sting.”
“How do we do that?” said Mildred.
“You and Martha are the only ones who recognize Grayson’s voice. I propose that the two of you monitor the phone-in line. We’ll get a court order permitting us to do so. Compulsive behavior like this usually is highly predictable. Grayson normally calls in between the hours of nine and eleven in the evening. I suggest we monitor the line during these hours.”
“What happens when he calls in?” inquired Martha.
“That’s when Joyce steps in. Grayson might recognize your voices. When you have determined that he’s joined the call, get Joyce on the line. Her cover is that she’s a computer analyst at the Department of Transportation, new in town and anxious to meet other hackers. We reckon our boy won’t be able to resist that.”
“Pretty slick,” said Martha.
“After the fish is hooked, it’s up to Joyce to reel him in. We’ll set up a rendezvous and snag him.”
Mildred started to gather her things. “When do we start?”
“Tonight,” said Smith.
“Hi, this is Jean. I’m twenty-six, brunette, five foot two and love to jog.”
“Hi, Jean. This is Scott, six foot two and I jog every day.”
Covering the telephone, Martha said, “I sure hope Grayson gets on soon, I’m not sure I can take this too much longer.”
“Wait a minute, dear,” said Mildred.
“H-Hello, t-this is Ted. I’m l-looking for someone w-who s-shares an interest in computers.”
“Get Joyce.”
Joyce came into the room, sat down, and picked up the handset. “Hi, this is Joyce. I just started work at DOT as a computer analyst. I’m five feet tall, with long black hair. I’m new in town and would like to meet some nice hackers.”
“H-Hi J-Joyce, I’m Ted. I w-work as a computer analyst too.”
“You sound nice, Ted. Are you single?”
“Y-Yes. Y-you sound n-nice t-too.”
“The other computer people in my department are all married, and are no fun at all. They’re such dweebs. Where does a single hacker get to meet some interesting people? Singles bars are so boring.”
“S-Say, I know a computer club that’s really great. W-would y-you l-like t-to come?”
“Sure, will it be a problem?”
Grayson wiped his sweating brow, a big smile spread across his corpulent face, his right fist raised in jubilation. “N-no, no. I w-would b-be pleased to take you. I’ll m-meet you at the corner of F-Fourteenth and H Street, Northwest, at nine thirty tomorrow tonight, okay?”
“It’s a little late, but okay. I’ll see you then, Ted.”
Joyce put down the telephone and turned towards the others in the room with a great big grin.
“Okay, this is what we do,” said Smith. “Martha and Tom will stake out the corner of Fourteenth and H Streets. We need someone who can recognize Grayson. Mildred, you and Adams will be in a follow car. If Grayson starts to drive away, nail him. Joyce, we’re going to wire you for sound. Do you feel up to this? We could nail him without you, you know.”
“Come on, George. I’m a big girl,” said Joyce.
Grayson, showered and in fresh clothes, walked along Fourteenth Street going north. He was in heaven. Someone wanted to meet him.
As Grayson walked north, a car turned left from Fourteenth Street on to H Street. As the headlights of the car swung with the turn, the light swept the cars parked on the north side of H Street, particularly the nondescript tan sedan parked on Fourteenth Street at the corner of Fourteenth and H Street.
What was that? thought Grayson, as the light of the turning car illuminated the beautiful mass of strawberry blond hair belonging to the driver of the sedan.
“Shit!” he muttered as he slipped quietly into the shadow of a nearby office building’s doorway.
“Shit! Stood up by a cretin. There goes my reputation,” lamented Joyce.
“What happened?” said Smith.
“Don’t know, boss. We waited until midnight and Grayson never showed,” said Bateson.
“Anything at all happen?”
“Yeah, three different motorists from Virginia stopped and asked if I wanted to party,” said Joyce, smiling.
“Joyce, they thought you were a teenage hooker,” said Bateson, quietly.
“Oh,” said Joyce, blushing.
Returning to her apartment, Martha was as depressed as she had ever been. She was sure that they would have caught Grayson last night, but somehow he had gotten away. Was it something I had failed to do, she wondered.
Martha carefully checked the door to her apartment, something she had started to do regularly. It looked okay so she unlocked the door and stepped in. Turning on the light and locking the dead bolt security lock to her door; Martha took off her jacket and started to unbutton her blouse, thinking how nice a long hot shower would feel. By the time she reached her bedroom door, she had her blouse and skirt off and was dressed only in her bra and panties. As she entered her bedroom, she reached behind her back to unhook her bra, and her firm breasts fell free.
A large hand grabbed her by the mouth, and the point of a knife pricked the firm soft skin of her back.
“Y-You thought y-you c-could play w-with m-my affections, d-didn’t you!”
“Ted, let’s talk about this. All we want to do is help you.”
“W-What do y-you think I am, stupid?”
“Come on, Ted. Isn’t there anything I could do to persuade you that we just want to help?” said Martha in her sweetest voice.
“N-no, you have to die for what you did!” He pushed Martha out of her bedroom into the living room. “You can’t f-fuck around with me like that.”
Grayson dragged the struggling Martha around the living room and came up with his plan. “It’s going to be an accident; you’ll fall off your balcony.”
Grayson opened the curtains to Martha’s balcony and slid open the glass door. He pushed Martha to the railing of her apartment balcony.
“What the fuck!” said Special Agent Joseph Garcia. He bolted out of his car, simultaneously drawing his .40 caliber Glock 22 Pistol. At the same time, his partner, Special Agent Tonya Jefferson jumped out of her side of the car and was running toward the apartment building, gun drawn.