Galvin got out, nodding at his bodyguard.
He looked terrible. His eyes were bloodshot, with deep circles underneath and lines on his forehead Danny hadn’t noticed before. Galvin, who normally looked so polished and serene, looked like he’d been up all night.
He shook Danny’s hand.
Danny felt fear wriggle in his belly.
“Danny, I’d like you to meet Diego, my new driver. Diego, this is Mr. Goodman. He’s a friend of mine and, more important, the father of Abby, Jenna’s best friend. Danny and his daughter are very important people in our lives.” His left eye twitched almost imperceptibly.
Diego bowed his head and smiled somberly, exposing the glint of gold molars, then returned to the driver’s seat.
“Gotta make sure the new guy knows the key players in my life,” Galvin said.
“What happened to Esteban?”
Galvin’s left eye twitched again, very slightly. If you didn’t know him, you might not have noticed it. He seemed to have developed a tic. He sighed. “Esteban had to go back home to his family in Mexico. Not a good time to break in a new driver, but there’s probably no convenient time.”
“That’s a bummer.”
“Didn’t you say you play squash?”
“Well, I haven’t played in a while.”
“That’s okay. My squash partner canceled on me, and I need the workout. Would you be free for a game after work today?”
“I’m not a great player.”
“Neither am I. It’s just for fun.”
“I’ve got to do an interview this afternoon,” Danny lied. “Maybe some other time.”
He was almost positive he’d never told Galvin he played squash.
24
The location for the meet with the DEA guys was a diner in South Boston that looked like an authentic old diner out of the 1950s. Its exterior was shiny diamond-plate metal siding. A neon sign said MUL’S. Inside, it looked even more authentic, with red leatherette booths and stools, Formica-topped tables, and white-tiled walls. Behind a long counter edged with ribbed aluminum, a couple of line cooks were frying eggs and turning pancakes the size of dinner plates. Everything smelled like bacon and coffee and maple syrup.
Glenn Yeager was seated at one of the corner booths, facing the entrance, chowing down on a huge breakfast. Next to him was an open laptop, a black Toshiba. The booth looked to be strategically located. No other tables were close. They could talk openly.
“Where’s Bad Cop?” Danny asked.
Yeager replied through a mouthful of egg, “Change of plans.”
Danny sat down at the booth as a waitress appeared with a menu and a glass carafe of coffee and filled a chunky white mug. “Change?”
Yeager gulped down a few swallows of orange juice. Cleared his throat. He closed the laptop. “Phil’s checking out a lead. He might join us later.”
Danny shrugged. He wasn’t going to complain about Slocum not being there.
The waitress, copper-haired and big-busted, said, “Know what you want, honey?”
“I’m all set with just the coffee,” Danny said.
“Come on, Daniel, order something. Best breakfast in town.”
Danny shook his head and waited until the waitress gave up and left. “What’s this about? I thought I was done with you guys.”
“We’ve got a problem. We’re not picking up a signal.”
“The transmitter?”
Yeager nodded solemnly.
“That’s not my problem. I did everything right, on my end.”
“Unfortunately, it’s very much your problem. Until we get what we need on him, you belong to us.”
And here, Danny thought, was the flaw in their arrangement. He had no way of knowing whether they were telling him the truth. Maybe the bug in the dummy Boston College medal was working just fine but they wanted him to keep planting surveillance devices on Galvin. More and more of them, more brazenly, until he got caught.
Unless he’d already been caught. That thought had lodged in his head like a half-chewed bite of steak stuck in your craw. What if Galvin knew?
“Isn’t the thing voice-activated?”
Yeager nodded again.
“Maybe it’s not transmitting because he hasn’t been talking in his office recently.”
“But he has.” Yeager sounded almost mournful. “We’re picking up signal traffic on his home-office landline. Encrypted, so we don’t know what he’s saying, but we know he’s made several calls.”
Danny shrugged, shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you. I did my job.”
“Maybe you mishandled it. These little pieces of electronics can be delicate.”
“I didn’t even open the thing.” Slocum had opened the dummy medal for him and showed him the component inside. But he hadn’t shown Danny how to open it himself, since he didn’t need to.
“I believe you. Maybe it got jiggled. These things happen. Point is, it’s not transmitting.”
“Well, no way am I going back to his study,” Danny said. “He caught me in there-he came home unexpectedly when I was placing it, and… What if he figured out what I was doing? What if he opened the medal or just destroyed it, or…?”
Yeager blinked a few times but said nothing. He looked at Danny with dead eyes.
“Is it possible he discovered the bug?” Danny asked.
Yeager watched him a little longer. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”
“Jesus.”
“Maybe his security people did a sweep.” He shrugged. “The fact that you’re alive indicates they don’t know you’re the one who planted it.”
“Well, I’m not going back into his study and planting something else. Absolutely not. I can’t.”
Yeager pointed with his fork to a reddish hillock on his plate. “They make the best corned beef hash here. Big chunks of brisket. Not that stuff that tastes like cat food you get everywhere else.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You want to try something that’ll take the top of your head off, get the homemade cinnamon bun muffin and ask them to grill it for you. I mean, it’s life-transforming.”
The waitress topped off his mug of coffee, even though he’d maybe taken two sips.
“He has a new driver,” Danny said.
“There you go.” Yeager shrugged and gave him another dead-eyed look. “The driver took the fall for you. He probably goes into Galvin’s office from time to time to get things for his boss, drive them into town. He’s a logical suspect.”
“So Galvin didn’t know it was me.”
“Clearly. Nothing was wrong with the transmitter. Safe guess his security people found it in a routine sweep.”
“And this poor guy gets killed.”
“Collateral damage. Better him than you, right?”
“Great,” Danny said, unable to muster much enthusiasm.
Yeager pulled a small black nylon Nike gym bag from the floor and set it on the table. He unzipped it partway and shoved it toward Danny.
He looked inside. There was a gadget inside not much bigger than an iPhone. He looked at Yeager. “Now what?”
“That little doohickey is called a MobilXtract. It’s made by an Israeli company for law enforcement and intelligence agencies, and it costs a buttload of money. Handle with care.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“It’s the only move we have left. We tried downloading a software agent to his BlackBerry, but no luck. This way is far more likely to succeed. All you have to do is plug it into Galvin’s BlackBerry and touch a few screen prompts, and in three or four minutes it’ll download everything. E-mails, text messages, contacts, you name it. Idiotproof.”