Newton never took his eyes from Zeke. Newton doubted if he could have chosen a better agent to run this highly unorthodox shadow job. Zeke missed no detail. He charted a surveillance with the same diligence that a highly skilled criminal attorney would follow in briefing a court trial. And yet he possessed a great human quality. The people in his cases were people with homes and children and problems. He’ll probably be liking the confounded cat before tonight’s over, Newton thought to himself.
Now Zeke stepped to a blown-up photograph of the Randall home. “He will remain here several minutes before crossing the street, where he will enter the back yard of an attorney, Greg Balter.”
Newton broke in.“I think you should point out that we do not have the co-operation of Mr. Balter. In fact, we haven’t asked for it, due to Mr. Balter’s hostility toward the informant.”
Zeke continued,“If he follows this pattern, which is his invariable nightly routine, the number one agents will pick him up on their sound cone, which will be stationed at this cross street.”
The“sound cone” was a parabolic mike that could be aimed like a rifle to pick up the faintest noise from a distance of three hundred yards.
Zeke continued,“Miss Randall informs me that the cat will not object to wearing an old collar with a small bell attached. He used to wear it all the time, but when it wore out she didn’t replace it. But she’s getting it repaired today. However, if he wants to, he can move so stealthily the human ear can’t pick up the sound of the bell.”
The parabolic mike would“hear” the bell, though, and “follow” D.C. from a distance sufficiently far away so that he would not know he was being shadowed. “We’re told that it’s imperative he doesn’t know we’re around,” Zeke continued, “since he might become self-conscious and return home.
“Now, at the same time that the sound cone men have him under surveillance, other agents will attempt to watch the informant, also at a distance, through an infra-red scope.”
The scope was an instrument that used infra-red rays to“light up” the dark. An agent could look through it, and see a person ? or cat ? almost as clearly as in daylight.
“We will mesh this maneuver through an Operations Center in the back of a drugstore at this point, which is about two blocks from the Randall home. Supervisor Newton will be in charge, and will keep in touch by radio with all cars and agents on foot, as well as myself in the back bedroom of theRandall residence.”
Newton interrupted.“You should know that several agents are already scouring the area for possible paw prints, and are showing the informant’s photograph to children. We may get a lead from them before the informant leaves the house, and if we do we will relay it to you.”
Zeke continued,“You’re probably wondering how we are going to identify the informant once he leaves the house, since a black cat looks like any other black cat.” He smiled. “Maybe to a black cat another black cat doesn’t, the same as a Chinese to a Chinese, but to me they do. We’re taking care of thatby applying phosphorescent paint to the hair on the tip of his tail.”
10
Zeke’s lank frame looked strange in the blue quilted chintz chair as he huddled over a two-way radio that he had set up alongside the extension phone in Patti’s bedroom. In the doorway Ingrid and Mike watched avidly, Mike’s eyes on the equipment, Inky’s on the man.
Sprawled on the bed was D.C. with his white-tipped tail curled around so he could reach it with his tongue. No matter how strenuously he washed it, he culd not lick it clean, and he was pained deeply. They had ruined him for life. Not since Mike was ten had he been painted. He could never explain it to his friends. What would Poker Face, who lived in the next block, think? Poker Face wouldn’t say anything,of course, since D.C. invited him into the house occasionally for a bowl of milk, a liquid D.C. loathed.
Zeke said into the mike,“Car fourteen. Come in, fourteen.”
The answer came immediately.“Car fourteen in. We’re in position. All set.”
Zeke said,“Car fifteen. Come in, fifteen.”
And so it went as Zeke checked each car. As he was finishing, he heard the front door slam. Ingrid swung about but thought better of the idea. Any other night she would have run to meet Patti, to hug her and hear what was the latest in the world of fashion and business. Inky could scarcely wait to get a job modeling, and the fervent hope that she could had inspired her to give up virtually all food, except an occasional hot fudge nut sundae.
As Patti came down the hall, she called,“Inky, what’s been going on in the bathroom?” She was wearing her no-nonsense voice.
She entered the bedroom and stopped short on seeing Zeke. He spoke up quickly.“I’m to blame, Miss Randall. We fingerprinted D.C. in there. I should?ve cleaned it up.” He added, “We had a little difficulty.”
Mike put in,“It’s a good thing Mom isn’t here.” Ingrid said hurriedly, “It was my idea, sis.” She turned to Zeke, “You’re a doll to take the blame but I won’t let you, although I admire a man who protects a woman. Not many men do.”
“Horse-radish,” Mike said.
Patti tossed her jacket on the bed beside D.C. and stooped to rub his ears. D.C. stretched and purred loudly. She was without doubt the best ear rubber in the business.“Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up later.”
“Huh!” Mike exclaimed. “If I so much as breathe in the bathroom I have to wipe up the moisture.”
Zeke said to Patti,“I’m sorry about taking over your bedroom. I’ll put everything back like it was when I finish.” Patti smiled sweetly. “Would I be upsetting the FBI too much if I get a change of clothes?”
Zeke grinned.“Come and go any time you want to. Make yourself at home.”
Mike asked,“You wearing your black lace panties tonight?”
She stood motionless, her hands poised stiff over the drawer they had been about to explore. Ingrid screamed, “Michael Randall! How could you?”
Zeke said quietly,“Don’t let it bother you, Miss Randall. I had an older sister ? and I said the same things.” She turned, and the look was a kiss.
Mike went to her. He was as near crying as a man of twelve dared to come.“I was just teasing, Pat. I’m a louse.” She put her hand to his cheek. “So run along and let’s forget it, huh?”
When he was gone Inky said,“The maturing process is hard. You say things and wonder why. I was the same at his age. He’ll grow out of it.”
Zeke shook his head as he returned to the radio.“I don’t know. Most of us don’t. I’ve been saying things all my life I shouldn’t have.”
At that moment the phone rang, and Ingrid picked it up on its first note. Her voice dropped, and she carried the phone over to the far window.
“It’s a boy,” Patti said. “I can always tell. She sounds like Sandra Dee.”
Zeke sneezed, and the sneeze reminded him.“I was wondering about the cat’s dinner.”
She fished a dress out of the closet and shut the door behind her, standing very straight in a patch of evening sun.“You promised to call him by his name.”
Zeke shifted uneasily.“I did, didn’t I?” He couldn’t take his eyes from hers. Afterwards he thought they were blue, but he was never sure. “About D.C.‘s dinner. What if you didn’t feed him at all tonight? Wouldn’t he go out earlier looking for something?”
“That’s not what he looks for,” she said without thinking. “I mean
“
Zeke grinned.“I know what you mean.”