“I don’t think that’ll be a problem for her,” Reuben said, pointing.
They all watched as the woman tapped the pavement with her high heels and then pecked on the car window with her finger, silently counting and muttering before opening her car door. Then she performed a similar exercise checking her seat, before climbing in. She left a considerable amount of rubber on the pavement as she hit sixty miles an hour six seconds later, before she slammed on her brakes at the next intersection. Then she roared off again, the deep-throated decibels of the Porsche’s turbo actually causing Caleb to wince.
“Where the hell did he meet the woman, at a NASCAR event?” Caleb asked as he stared wide-eyed at the smoke still rising off the tire marks on the street.
“No, he told us he met her at the anxiety clinic,” Reuben reminded them. “She was there getting treatment for OCD too.”
Milton closed his front door, went through a brief ritual and came out to join them carrying his knapsack. He climbed into the backseat next to Reuben.
“She’s a real looker,” Reuben said. “What’s her name?”
“Chastity,” Milton replied.
Reuben snorted. “Chastity? Well, for your sake, I hope she doesn’t live up to her name.”
Traffic was fairly heavy, and by the time they got to Patrick Johnson’s neighborhood it was quite dark. This suited Stone well. The nighttime was where he was most comfortable.
He checked house numbers as they drifted down the street. “All right, Caleb, it’s coming up in the next block on the left. Park the car here.”
Caleb pulled the Malibu to the curb and looked at his friend.
“Now what?” he asked nervously.
“We wait. I want to get the lay of the land a bit, see who’s coming and going.” Stone pulled out his binoculars and gazed through them up the street. “Assuming that those Suburbans parked out front are Bureau cars, I’m guessing that the third house up on the left is Johnson’s.”
“Nice digs,” Reuben commented, following his friend’s gaze.
Meanwhile, Milton had been studying his laptop computer. He said, “It was reported that they found heroin in the house. And Roosevelt Island was where Johnson spent his first date with his fiancée. They’re theorizing that he killed himself there symbolically; with his upcoming marriage he couldn’t live his double life anymore.”
“How can you be on the Internet in a car?” Caleb exclaimed.
“I’m pure wireless,” Milton replied. “I don’t need hot spots. You know, Caleb, you really should let me bring you into the twenty-first century.”
“I use a computer at work!”
“Only for word processing. You don’t even have a personal e-mail account, only a library one.”
“I prefer pen, paper and stamps to compose my mail,” Caleb responded indignantly.
“Are you sure you don’t mean foolscap and a quill, Brother Caleb?” Reuben asked with a grin.
Caleb said heatedly, “And unlike those Neanderthals on the Internet, I use complete sentences and, heaven help us, punctuation. Is that a crime?”
“No, it’s not, Caleb,” Stone said calmly. “But let’s try to keep the discussion relevant to our mission tonight.”
“You know, you would’ve thought that an NIC employee would’ve been vetted well enough that his drug dealer status showed up,” Reuben said.
“Well, presumably, he was clean when he signed on with them but turned dirty sometime after,” Milton replied. “Look at Aldrich Ames. He had a big house and drove a Jaguar, and the CIA never even thought to ask him how he could afford it.”
Caleb said, “But apparently, Johnson was selling drugs, not secrets. He ran afoul of his business associates, and they killed him. That seems pretty clear.”
“Did those two gentlemen look like drug dealers to you?” Stone asked.
“Since I don’t know any drug dealers, I’m not in a position to really answer that question,” Caleb said.
“Well, I do know some,” said Reuben. “And despite what damn bigots might think, they’re not all young black gang members with nine-millimeters stuffed in their prison shuffle pants, Oliver.”
“I’m not implying that they are. However, let’s consider the facts. They brought him to a place where he had his first date. That implies intelligence gathering unless he was in the habit of sharing his romantic history with his alleged criminal associates. They carried him in a powered boat that was so silent we didn’t even hear it until they reached the island. Now, that may be a technology drug dealers employ in, say, South America where there is a good deal more water. But in the nation’s capital?”
Reuben said, “Who the hell knows what sort of high-tech toys they’re using around here nowadays?”
Stone ignored this. “In addition, the two killers undertook a fairly military-style reconnaissance of the area and used a killing technique that smacks of the professional assassin. And they were well aware of potential incriminating forensic residue and took appropriate steps accordingly. They even had the foresight to bring a plastic baggie to give the impression that he’d used it to keep the gun dry while he swam to the island.”
“That’s right,” Caleb said. “But even drug dealers want to avoid jail.”
Stone ignored this comment too. “And when they realized there were witnesses to their crime, they gave not a second thought to disposing of us. These men are expert killers, but I very seriously doubt that they are drug dealers.”
The other three pondered their friend’s logic as Stone raised the binoculars to his eyes again.
The silence was broken a minute later by Caleb, who asked Milton, “What does Chastity do?”
“She’s an accountant. She used to work for a big firm, but they fired her because of her OCD. She has her own company now. And she helps me with my Web design business. I’m awful with money. She keeps the books and does the marketing too. She’s really terrific.”
“I’m sure she is terrific,” Reuben said. “It’s those quiet professional types you have to watch out for. You think they’re mild-mannered and then they just jump you. I dated this woman once, prim and proper, dresses past the knees. But I swear to God that lady could do things with her mouth that defied—”
Stone broke in quickly. “Firing Chastity because of her medical condition doesn’t seem right unless it prevented her from doing her work.”
“Oh, she could do the work. They said she embarrassed the firm in front of clients, which was a crock. Two of the partners just didn’t like her, one of them because Chastity wouldn’t sleep with him. She sued and won a lot of money.”
“That’s the country we all know and love,” Reuben said. “The United States of Lawyers. But don’t let the rich pretty ones get away, Milton. I’m not telling you to marry the woman, God forbid, but if a man can keep a woman in these enlightened times, there’s nothing wrong with a woman keeping a man.”
“She does buy me things,” Milton said quietly.
“Really,” Reuben said with sudden interest. “What sorts of things?”
“Software for my computer, clothes, wine. She knows a lot about wine.”
“What sorts of clothes?” Reuben persisted.
“Personal clothes,” a pink-faced Milton said. He immediately looked down at his computer and started hitting some keys. Reuben started to say something, but Stone silenced him with a very severe look.