I kept the door open to give me some light while I prepared the camera. I got two trash bags and put one inside the other, then put the camera inside, pushing it against the plastic at the bottom until the lens just burst through. I then took the two plastic coffee cups, split them both down the sides, cut the bottoms off both, put them into one another, and then fitted them over the lens as a hood. That was going to keep off the rain but at the same time let enough light into the lens so the thing could work. I used gaffer tape to keep everything in position.
I got on the roof with the camera and plugged it in. I lay flat and looked through the viewfinder, waiting for it to spark up and show me what the lens could see. I wanted a reasonable close-up of the staircase leading up to the main door.
Once it had jumped into life I used the zoom, got it right on target, and pressed Play. I tested Stop and Rewind, then Play again. It worked. I tucked in the plastic, making sure not to dislodge the camera, pressed Record, and walked away. I went and bought a cartwheel-sized pizza, which we sat down and ate in front of the television, with the cell phone plugged in, charging.
Then it was just a matter of hanging around with indigestion waiting for Pat to call and the four-hour tape to finish. It was dark now, but I wanted it to run the full four hours: one, to check that the system worked, and two, to see what the quality was like at night.
For the first time, both of us were bored. Kelly had had death by TV, death by pizza, death by Mountain Dew and Coke. She wearily picked up one of her new books and said, "Would you read to me?"
I thought, All right, it 'sjtist a collection of stories, it won't take that long to read a couple. I soon discovered it was one continuous adventure, with optional endings to each chapter.
I was reading to her about three kids in a museum. One had gone missing no one knew where when the story just stopped. At the bottom of the page it said, "Do you want to go to p. 16 and follow him through the magic tunnel, or do you want to go and see Madame Edie on p. 56, who might tell you where he is? It's your choice."
"Where do you want to go?" I said.
"Through the tunnel."
Off we went. After about forty-five minutes and changing tack about eight times, I thought we must be getting to the end soon. It took nearly two hours to get through it. At least she had fun.
The room was warm and I still had all my stuff on, ready to go. I kept dozing off, waking up every half hour or so to the sound of The Simpsons or Looney Tunes. One time I woke up and looked down at my jacket. It had come undone, and my pistol was exposed. I looked across at Kelly, but she didn't even give it a second glance; maybe she was used to her dad wearing one.
I opened up a can of Mountain Dew and looked at my watch. It was only 8:15; I'd go and get the first video in about fifteen minutes, put a new tape in, and then wait for Pat's call.
When the time came I said, "I'm just popping out for five minutes to get something to drink--do you want anything?"
She looked quizzical and said, "We've got loads here."
"Yeah, but it's all warm. I'll bring some cold ones."
I went up to the roof. It was damp and drizzling now. I opened up the back of the plastic bag, pressed the Eject button, and quickly exchanged tapes. I was ready for the morning.
I came downstairs, passed our room, and got another couple of sodas. Coca-Cola shares had probably skyrocketed over the last few days.
Clueless came on, the TV series she'd told me she loved. I was amazed as I listened to her imitating all the catch-phrases. She had them down pat: "Loser ... double loser, moron.. . whatever!" Now I knew where a lot other sayings came from.
At last it was just three minutes to go before Pat was due to check in. There was no way I'd tell Pat where we were or that Kelly was actually with me. All I would tell him was what he needed to know, as protection for him as well as for us. I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and listened for Clueless.
Nothing.
Right on time the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"All right, mate? Thanks for the sub!"
We both had a quiet laugh.
"Do you know what floor they're occupying?"
There was a short pause, then, "Second floor."
"OK. Any chance of more money? I need a big wad, mate.
You know I'll square it away when I get back."
"I could get you about ten grand. But you're going to have to wait a day--I won't be able to get it until tomorrow, or possibly the day after. You're welcome to it until you're sorted-and I take it you've got a way out?"
"Yeah," I lied. It was for the best. If he got lifted, he could give only false information, and they'd start combing the airports and docks instead of looking around Washington.
Then I said, "I need more contact in case I manage to find anything out about the building and things start changing rapidly. What about twelve hundred hours, eighteen hundred, and twenty-three hundred--is that OK?"
"All right, mate. Is there anything else?"
"No, mate. Be careful."
"And you. See ya!"
I turned the telephone off, went back into the bedroom, and put it back on the charger. I didn't know if Kelly had heard anything, but she was quiet and seemed uneasy.
I got the playback machine set up, pushed the tape in, and tuned in the television.
Kelly was watching intently.
"We're going to play a game," I said.
"Do you fancy playing? If not, I'll just do it on my own."
"OK." It beat counting cars on the highway.
"I thought you didn't have any cords."
She'd got me on that one.
"I bought some when I went out."
"So why can't we see the video we made?"
I had to think quickly.
"Because I've already mailed it.
Sorry" She looked at me, a little confused.
"We're going to watch this tape of a building," I went on.
"It's got people going in and out of it. Now, there's going to be some famous people going in there, there's going to be people that you know, like friends of Daddy's and Mommy's, and people that I know. So what we've got to do is see how many people we can each recognize. Whoever sees the most is the winner. You want to play?"
"Yeah!"
"You've got to be really quick, because I'm going to fast-forward it. Every time you see somebody moving, you've got to tell me, then I'll stop, rewind, and we'll have a look at it."
I took some of the hotel stationery and a pencil and off we went. I had to use the button on the machine to fast-forward because there was no remote. I sat on the floor under the player by the TV and hit the fast-forward button. Kelly's eyes didn't leave the screen. I was quite pleased with the result.
The quality wasn't bad at all; you could tell the difference between this and a home video, and I'd managed to get full-length pictures of the people covering about two-thirds of the screen.
"Stop, stop, stop!" she shrieked.
I rewound and had a look. Kelly had correctly spotted some movement. There were a few people entering. I didn't recognize any of them. Kelly was sure that man number three was from a pop group called Backstreet Boys.
She got into the game more and more. Everyone seemed to be famous. I logged them all, using the counter.
Two men, one with a long light coat, one with a blue coat.
People think that being a baby spy is all James Bond, sports cars, and casinos. I'd always wished the fuck it was. The reality is sheer hard work, getting information, then sitting down and working out what it is you've gathered--and then interpreting it. Two people walking up a set of stairs means shit. It's interpreting what's going on that's important-identifying them, their body language, what happened before, what you think is going to happen later on. So you log everything, in case at a later date it might be important. Give me a sports car any day.