“You’re right,” Carpenter said. “And none of the other bikes has saddlebags at all. That’s Carroll!”
Then the bicycle with the large saddlebags split off from the other three and turned onto a dirt lane.
“Okay,” Carpenter said to the tech, “follow her, ignore the others, and let’s get Morgan back on the other screen.”
The tech got the bicycle in his sights. “It’s going to be easier now, since she’s on that little lane.”
“Show me Morgan,” Carpenter said.
The tech tapped more keys, and the image popped back onto the second screen.
“Where is he?” Carpenter asked.
“Let me pan around,” the tech replied.
“It’s the same spot,” Stone said, “but Morgan’s car isn’t there; he’s gone.”
“Find that car,” Carpenter said, “and be quick about it.”
“It’s not so easy,” the tech said. “It’s one thing to track the A car when you’ve got him in your sights, but finding him in a landscape is going to be nearly impossible.”
“I don’t care, do it!”
Stone watched the lone cyclist as she pedaled down the little lane. “Anybody got a map of the area?” he asked.
“Here,” Plumber replied, spreading a large-scale map of the area on a table. “She came up here from her house to the roundabout,” he said, pointing, “and then she left it here.” He ran his finger up the road. “She exited the paved road here, and she’s going up this lane.”
“What’s this?” Stone asked, pointing to a green area up the lane.
“It’s a copse of trees, with a clearing in the middle.”
“Look at this,” Carpenter said, pointing at the trees.
Carroll had cycled into the clearing, and a car was waiting for her. A man got out.
“Here’s the buy,” Carpenter said. “Get me Mason.” Somebody handed her a cellphone. “Mason? Close on the following map coordinates.” She read them off.
“We’ve got a problem here,” Plumber said, pointing at the map. Everybody gathered around him. “There are three roads out of the clearing, in different directions.”
“Dammit,” Carpenter said. She spoke into the cellphone again. “Mason, check the coordinates; there are three exits from the clearing; you’ve got to cover them all. I don’t care, pull your men off Morgan’s house and get them out there; I am not going to lose the device, and I am not going to lose Cabot. Do it!”
Stone went and stood behind the tech. “Are you having any luck locating Morgan?”
“Not yet,” the young man said.
“I think it’s very important that you find his car.” He turned to the other screen. “What’s Carroll doing?”
“See for yourself,” Carpenter said. Carroll and the man she had met were embracing. “Looks as though Cabot gives this lady a lot of personal attention. Any luck on Morgan’s car?”
“Not yet.”
“Zero in on Morgan’s house,” she said. “Let’s see if he returned home.”
“That’s easy,” the tech replied, tapping his keyboard. “Here we are; all is quiet.”
“Work outward from the house in circles; see if you can find him in the neighborhood. Maybe he stopped at the pub, or for groceries.”
“Will do,” the tech replied.
Carpenter moved back to Carroll’s screen. She stared at it for a moment, then laughed. “I don’t believe it!”
“What?” Stone asked.
“They’re fucking.” She pointed at the screen. They had spread out a blanket, and the principal view was of a man’s bare back.
Then the tech widened the view. “Here come our people,” the tech said. Cars could be seen approaching the copse from three directions.
Mason drove the lead car, and he was moving fast up the unpaved lane. Ahead, the trees beckoned, and inside them, the clearing. He was going to make this bust himself, he thought; it was going to be the high point of his career. He entered the trees, and ahead, he could see the clearing in the evening light. Simultaneously, three cars entered the clearing from each access road. A couple were lying on a blanket, naked, and they looked up. “Oh, God,” he moaned. He picked up the cellphone.
Carpenter’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe it. He’s who?” She snapped the phone shut. “Carroll is fucking her immediate superior at Eastover.”
“Then Morgan is our man,” Stone said.
“Find him!” Carpenter said to the tech.
“He’s not in the neighborhood,” the young man replied.
“Get somebody over to Morgan’s house,” Carpenter snapped at Plumber.
“We don’t have anybody; they’re all on Carroll.”
She picked up the cellphone. “Mason? It’s Morgan, no doubt, and we’ve lost him. Get over to his house and arrest him. Report back.”
“How long will it take him to get there?” Stone asked.
Plumber spoke up. “Four, five minutes.”
“I don’t believe it,” Carpenter was saying. “All this bike ride was in aid of was fucking her boss!”
“They couldn’t meet at either of their houses,” Plumber said. “These facilities frown on extramarital relationships.”
“Carroll is married?”
Plumber was checking a list. “Divorced, but her boss is married.”
“How about Morgan?” Stone asked.
Plumber checked his list again. “Never married.”
“So he lives alone?”
Plumber checked his sheet again. “No; he has a cat.”
Carpenter was back on the cellphone. “Mason, where are you? Well, hurry up!” She closed the phone. “He says he’s two minutes out.”