any place. So we’ve got his vehicular transportation all tapped and his house so tight we can tell if he washes behind his ears or been circumcised. Only thing puzzling me is why we’re going to all this trouble with this guy. I mean, this is Mafia equipment we’ve installed and this has got to be small beer.’
‘Could be very big,’ Palowski said. ‘Our information from Poland is that this stuff is a new super high-grade designer from a Russian laboratory. No need to grow it and it’s a thousand times more addictive than crack. Street value into gigabucks and as easy to make as speed. Easier. Which could explain why Sol is missing. Lose a sample like that and you lose your life. Which is almost certainly what’s happened to him. Now, Sheriff Stallard says Immelmann Enterprises is diversifying into pharmaceuticals. That’s the rumour he’s heard. Some German firm is interested in investing with him and they’ve been investing in Russia too. That’s why the interest in Washington. My guess is this could be a subversion gambit. Militarily the Russians are out of the game but if they can infiltrate a designer drug of this calibre they don’t need a war to win.’
‘That guy is paranoid, I swear to God. He’s got Russkies on the brain,’ the electronics expert said afterwards.
It was an opinion shared by Sheriff Stallard when Baxter reported that the Starfighter Mansion had been wired for S&S like sight and sound.
‘You mean when Wally Immelmann…when Mrs Immelmann goes to the bathroom some guy’s going to be filming her on the can? I don’t believe it. And I sure as hell don’t want to see any footage of her taking a slash.’
‘It gets worse…’
‘Worse? Nothing could be worse than Joanie…Where’s the fucking camera? And don’t tell me they’re shooting from below. I’ll throw up.’
‘No, it’s a straight angle,’ said Baxter. ‘But they can zoom in. I mean, Sheriff, they’re using space technology in there.’
‘You can say that again,’ said the Sheriff, still obsessed with the thought of Auntie Joan on the toilet. ‘What do they think there is to zoom in on? Those guys some sort of perverts? I mean, they’ve got to be. They’ll be breaking every obscenity regulation there is. And what the hell do they want filming in there?’
‘Just in case Wally tries to flush the stuff down. They want a record of it. And that’s another thing. They’ve brought in the Shit Squad.’
‘You’ve told me,’ said the Sheriff. ‘Pretty apt damned name for the bastards. I couldn’t put it better myself.’
‘No, these guys are different.’
‘I’ll say they are. The same as me they’re not. I don’t get any kicks out of spying on fat women pissing in the privacy of their own bathrooms. You’ve got to be a genuine pervert to like that.’
‘No, the Shit Squad are sewage experts. They’ve hooked into all the effluent coming out of the Starfighter and are running it into a tanker for analysis. The thing is parked round the back of the old drive-in movie screen and it’s enormous. Must take fifteen thousand gallons a throw. And the lab truck is there too where it can’t be seen. They’ve got equipment in there that can trace drugs in athletes’ urine weeks after they’ve taken them.’
Sheriff Stallard was gaping at him. Nothing in a long career as a Law Enforcement Officer came anywhere like this. ‘They’ve hooked…? Say it again, Baxter, say it again and slowly this time. This stuff is not getting through to me.’
‘It’s like this,’ said Baxter. ‘They’ve sealed off all the outlets from the house, all the water and sewage pipes, and they’ve hooked this huge sucking device on so that they can pump it–’
