Watson and his people spent twenty-some hours identifying the various frequencies being used, and stealing onto the signals. Now, what Fowler was listening to and watching was also being recorded on the anchored cabin cruiser that housed two of the world’s worst fishermen. More important, when directed to do so, Watson was prepared to jam Fowler’s outgoing signals from the houseboat and transmit his own from videotape, leaving Fowler with false images of an empty houseboat, when in fact it would be bustling with activity. This deception had been the key element for Boldt’s plan to work, and it took nearly seventy-two hours before Watson believed he was ready. No one could guarantee it would work.
On day four of the ruse, the morning headlines and broadcasts led with the story that Cornelia Uli had agreed to turn state’s witness and to reveal to a grand jury the identity of the man who had run the ATM extortion of Adler Foods. Deputy prosecuting attorney Penelope Smyth was quoted as saying that with Uli’s testimony, the state believed it had an airtight case, and that for “security reasons” the witness was being placed into hiding so that nothing could jeopardize her testimony-or the state’s case.
At one-thirty in the morning the night before-well before the story hit the press-an unmarked dark-blue sedan pulled up in front of the dock that led to Daphne’s houseboat, and two plainclothes policemen climbed out and walked the area for five minutes before returning to the car and giving the all-clear. The car’s back door opened, and a figure small in stature, accompanied by a big bear of a man, walked quickly toward Daphne’s home. The front door swung open and admitted these two without a knock or introduction. Moments later, the blue car sped away.
Daphne closed the door and locked it. “Everything go okay?”
“Fine,” Boldt answered.
Cornelia Uli pulled back the hood to the sweatshirt and shook her hair free. “I thought we were going to a hotel,” she complained.
“So will everyone else,” Boldt said. “The press will be searching every hotel, motel, and inn within an hour’s drive of the courthouse. A houseboat on Lake Union, five minutes from downtown? You’re safer here than in any hotel. It has a brand-new security system, and-”
“A policewoman to look after you and take care of you.”
“What about television?”
“There’s a television in the bedroom, and the bedroom is yours until this is over.”
“Okay, fine.” Cornelia Uli strolled the houseboat looking it over, touching some of the furniture, inspecting the view. “It’s killer,” she said.
“Let’s hope not,” Daphne answered. “And let’s get one thing straight: I am not your housemaid. We share dish duty, cooking, and cleaning.”
“Forget it.”
“This is nonnegotiable. You can go back to county lockup and take your chances, if you’d prefer.”
Boldt began drawing the curtains and lowering shades.
“And you can’t go outside,” Daphne stated emphatically. “This is a small, closed neighborhood. We decided against putting any of our people around the area because we thought it would cause too much suspicion and probably force us to move you. We don’t want to move you. We were also worried about leaks. Only a handful of people know you’re here, all of whom can be trusted.” Boldt continued with the shades. “You won’t go outside, you won’t use the phone, and you won’t open any of the shades. We’re taking no chances that you might be randomly spotted. And remember, this is for you, not us.”
“Bullshit,” the woman protested. “This is so I’ll squeal. This is so Kenny Fowler goes to jail. Don’t give me any of that shit.”
Cornelia Uli had been told nothing of Boldt’s ruse, and Boldt delighted in the fact that unwittingly she, too, played her role out to perfection.
For a day and a half, the two women lived side by side-sometimes combative, sometimes in harmony, but with Daphne either wearing her weapon at her side or leaving it within plain reach.
Boldt and his team were equipped with some of the same digital communication technology used in the ATM sting, preventing any possibility of electronic eavesdropping. Officially, the police were completely out of this. In fact, an elite team of individuals including Gaynes and LaMoia were following a carefully choreographed script in which Cornelia Uli was the only unwitting participant. For the sake of possible surveillance, it had long since been decided that the trap would be baited after dark.
On the second evening of Uli’s confinement, Daphne sat waiting for the woman to take a bathroom break. As usual, she wore a radio and earpiece.
Uli was a television addict, and remained virtually glued to the set in the bedroom during waking hours. Boldt used this against her in his plan: The diuretic slipped into the evening meal guaranteed frequent bathroom calls; at some point she would come down to the head-essential to the success of the ruse. More important, she would immediately return upstairs to her shows, where, true to form, she would remain. She would not be hanging around downstairs, checking coat closets. Crucial, because on this night, the closets would have more than coats inside of them.
But for Daphne the time seemed to stretch on forever. Finally Uli did come down from the bedroom, the sound of the television behind her, and crossed the room toward the head. Daphne, as per instructions, sprang into action.
She walked quickly to the front door and unlocked it. At the same time she keyed in the security code, deactivating the system, she also flashed a signal of three pops of the transmission button to her radio. Then she hurried to the back door, which she unlocked as well. All of this required only seconds to accomplish.
Thankfully, Uli always washed her hands after using the toilet. The running water was to serve as Daphne’s warning signal.
Outside the houseboat, the three quick pops over the radio were the awaited signal. Boldt, LaMoia, and Gaynes, all dressed in dark clothing, hurried from the back of a panel truck and down the short dock toward the farthest houseboat, while through an earpiece Boldt monitored the monotonous drone of the dispatcher’s voice tracking Kenny Fowler’s every move. At present, Fowler was holed up in his water-view apartment across town.
On board the cabin cruiser, Daphne’s radio signal instructed Watson to jam several of Fowler’s transmission frequencies and to start the prerecorded videotapes playing. It was for this reason that Daphne remained standing close to the back door-there were no hidden surveillance cameras watching this back area of the house. One moment the hidden cameras were showing the real-time activity inside the houseboat; the next, only the camera and microphone showing Cornelia Uli urinating were live. The rest briefly displayed the images and sounds of empty rooms.
It was during these few precious moments of illusion that Boldt and his team slipped quietly inside the houseboat-Boldt and Gaynes through the front door, locking it behind them, and seconds later LaMoia through the back.