'You'll do just fine, Raymond,' he said as he left the room.
'Thanks,' Vulpes answered. A few moments later he appeared at the window of his room. He leaned on the sill and looked up and down the street. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air.
Actually, Vulpes was studying the terrain. He was certain the phone and his room were bugged, just as he was certain that he was being observed from somewhere in the old building across the street. Excellent. Vail had taken the bait.
Then he closed the window, pulled down the shade, and turned on his CD player. In the loft across the street, the sounds of a Judas Priest album roared into Solomon's earphones and he pulled them off.
'Well, shit,' Morris said. 'There goes our sound and picture.' He snatched up his portable phone and punched out the number of the chase car.
Grosso answered. 'Yeeees?' she said pleasantly.
'This is Bird Watch. Got Fox in his den, shades drawn, music drowning out our sound. Suggest you cover the back door.'
'Way ahead of you, Bird Watch. Got it in view.'
'See ya.'
'Over and out.'
Morris and Solomon settled back to watch and wait.
'You sure he can't see in here?' Solomon said.
'Not with his shades drawn.'
'How about when the shades are up?'
'Not unless he's Superman.'
'What are we on this guy about, anyway?'
'I dunno,' said Morris. 'All I know, Stenner said he's dangerous, whatever the hell that means.'
Vulpes stood in the middle of his room and surveyed his surroundings. It was large enough to include a bed, dresser, night table, and lamp. On the opposite side of the room was a small loveseat covered with a blanket and an easy chair with a battered coffee table between them. Against the wall was a table large enough to hold his TV. He lifted the blanket on the loveseat. Grey duct tape held a large rip together.
What the hell, he thought, it's just for the night. He kept the volume on his CD player as loud as he felt was safe. He moved the small night table to the wall beside the door. He unpacked his minicomputer, set it up on the table, and plugged it in. He went into the hall with a small tape recorder, lifted the receiver off the phone, and taped the sound as he dropped a quarter into the slot. When he got a dial tone, he dialled the Time of Day and then hung up. He went back to his room. The halfway house was almost empty, everyone was at work at that time of day. He looked at his watch.
Ten minutes. He had ten minutes. He had to take the chance.
He went back to the hall, unscrewed the cover of the phone, found the external line into the phone, and unplugged it. If the phone was tapped they wouldn't even know it was momentarily out of service. He worked quickly. He detached four coloured wires leading to the small magnet in the phone and attached one wire to the 'in' screws of the radio component he had made at Daisyland then the others to the 'out' side. The component successfully acted as a conduit between the external line and the line of the phone. He plugged the external line back in and quickly slipped the cover back and screwed it into place. He stepped back into his room and closed the door.
It had taken seven minutes.
He opened his suitcase and removed a city map from a pocket in the top of the bag and spread it out on the bed. There were four crosses marked in red on the map. He smiled and refolded the map and put it back in its pocket.
He was ready.
Stoddard looked grey, her mouth slack and her eyes swollen from lack of sleep. Her grey-black hair was straggly and had not been combed for several days. The female guard, a slender black woman with her hair pulled back and held by a barrette, led her out of the cell and towards the visitor's room.
'Listen, I heard you talking to your daughter on the phone,' the guard said. 'Sorry about that, I was standing there and couldn't help overhearing you. I heard you tell her not to come, but she's here.'
'What!'
'Ma'am, I got a daughter and a son and if I was in your shoes, they'd come whether I liked it or not. Stop here a minute.'
They stopped at the check-in desk while the guard unlocked a drawer and removed her bag.
'I got some powder and lipstick and a comb in here and a little mirror,' she said. 'Why don't you do a little repair job on your face. Make both of you feel good.'
'I don't want her to be here.'
'Well, she is, honey, so give her a break.' The guard handed her a small compact, a mirror, and a comb. Edith took them haltingly, stared in the tiny mirror, and shuddered. She started to dab her face with powder.
'Here,' the guard said, taking the compact, 'let me do that.' She started working on Stoddard's face.
'What's your name?' Stoddard asked.
'Cheryl Williams,' the guard answered: 'Used to work in a beauty parlour before I decided to become a cop.'
She powdered the pallor away, put a thin line of lipstick on Stoddard's lips, and combed her straggly hair back, then took off her own barrette and, pulling Stoddard's hair tight, slipped it on. She stepped back and admired her work.
'There,' she said. 'You put a smile on and she'll leave here a lot happier than when she came.' She held the mirror up so Stoddard could check herself out.
Stoddard smiled for the first time in days. 'Thank you,' she said.
'Sure. Tell her the food's good. They seem to worry a lot about that.'
When Edith Stoddard entered the small visitor's cell and saw Venable and Angelica, she stopped cold, her shackled arms dropping stiffly in front of her and her eyes blazing with fury.
'I told you, I didn't want her…' she started, but she didn't finish the sentence. Angelica, overwhelmed at the sight of her mother in the drab prison clothes and handcuffs, rushed to her and wrapped her arms around her.
'Oh, Mama!' she sobbed. 'I love you. Please listen to Ms Venable. We need you, Mama. I need you.' She clung to Edith Stoddard, her shoulders shaking as tears suddenly flooded her face.
Stoddard looked at Jane Venable, her face clouded with anger, but finally her eyes closed and her lips trembled and tears crept from her closed eyes.
'Oh, Angel,' she said in a shaky voice. 'I love you so much.'
'Then please, please listen to Ms Venable. Please do as she says. Please trust her.'
Stoddard pushed her daughter away and fixed a hard stare at her.
'Now, Angie, you listen to me. I know what I'm doing. You trust me.'
'I want you to come home,' the young woman sobbed.
'Well, that's not going to happen, dear. You must adjust to that. You're going to have to spend a little more time with Dad and keep his spirits up.'
Angelica suddenly pulled back from her. 'And who keeps my spirits up, Mom? You just sit here and do nothing. You let them write about you in the papers and everybody at school says you must be guilty because—'
'I am guilty, Angie. Get it through that thick little head of yours. Let me handle this.'
'Fine,' her daughter spat at her. 'Handle it, then. And the hell with the rest of us.' She whirled around and banged on the door. The guard opened it and she left the room.
Edith Stoddard sank into a chair. 'Why did you do that? What possible reason could you have for doing that to both of us?' she asked Venable.
'Edith, look at me.'
The older woman slowly raised her eyes, eyes filled with anger.
'I found the room, Edith.'
Stoddard said nothing. The expression in her eyes changed from anger to fear.
'I found the room in the closet, you know the room I'm talking about.'
Stoddard said nothing.
'How long did Delaney keep you in this kind of bondage?'
'It wasn't like that.'