'I am the new janitor,' the man said. He raised a feather duster, gripped in a massive fist, as proof.
'Oh?' Silberman was surprised. Ralph hadn't said anything about leaving. And
usually when someone left it took forever to get a replacement. 'What happened?' he asked when it became clear the fellow wasn't going to volunteer anything.
The stranger shrugged his impressive shoulders. 'I don't know,' he intoned. 'I was told to come here from now on.'
Silberman noted a slight accent; the man looked Turkish or Middle Eastern, which might explain his odd manner of speaking. But not his apparent desire to dust the inside of the file cabinet. The doctor frowned.
'No one said anything to me about this,' he said.
The janitor just stood there, staring at Silberman.
Possibly neurological damage.
'Well, look.' Silberman placed his briefcase on the desk. 'Could you come back later? I need to get to work right now. But I'll be out of here between two and four, so you can finish up then.' He smiled politely, trying to exude confidence; by two o'clock he should have some answers about this guy.
The smaller man didn't respond for a moment, then he simply walked forward, as though he intended to go right through Silberman, who jumped aside at the last second. This time he did allow his irritation to show.
'Hey!' he snapped at the retreating back. Then he forced himself to calm down.
'Didn't they give you any paperwork for me?'
The janitor stopped, turned his head, said a short 'no,' over his shoulder, and continued on his way.
Oh yeah, it was going to be fun having this guy around.
'Just what this place needs,' Silberman muttered, 'a janitor with attitude.'
Operative Joe Consigli dropped his feet to the floor as the office door began to open and grinned with not a little relief when he saw who it was. 'Hey, buddy, what brings you around?' he asked cheerfully.
He and Paul Delfino had been working this case together in the first few weeks after Sarah Connor was captured, until the powers that be decided only one operative at a time was necessary.
As far as Joe was concerned this was a totally dead assignment and he was profoundly bored. Especially since Connor had been moved to the halfway house next door. Watching these weird, sad people was depressing as hell and they made his skin crawl. Having someone to help him make fun of them would be primo.
'The head office sent me over,' Operative Delfino said. 'It seems that their janitor'—he indicated the monitors that showed various locations inside the Encinas Halfway House—'was killed during a burglary.'
'Killed?' Consigli said.
Delfino snorted. 'Boy, howdy! The guy's head was almost twisted off. The house was trashed, but there was cash left in the poor guy's wallet.' He shrugged. 'Which made the front office think something might be up.'
Consigli looked at the monitor. 'Hunh,' he said.
He pulled his chair up to the recording equipment and removed a tape, quickly replacing it, then he pushed the tape into a player, rewound it, and set it to play on a blank monitor. He pointed at the screen. 'This is the guy who claims he was sent over to replace their janitor.'
Delfino pursed his lips. 'Not what we were hoping for,' he said.
Not at all. What they were looking for was a guy about six feet tall, blond, with sculpted features.
When Dr. Ray first proposed moving Sarah Connor to a halfway house, the head office had jumped on the idea and pushed it through. Even Ray was stunned that the committee had approved his request. The organization's theory was that surely, in such a low-security environment, Connor's allies would make a move to break her out.
It had been child's play to hack into the halfway house's security system and begin monitoring the place via its own cameras. The team had planted a few of their own as well. But so far all they'd collected was endless, boring footage of what Consigli thought were hopeless cases and self-centered winners; losers with a capital L.
'What's administration say?' he asked.
Delfino pulled a face. 'This guy is in the computer and all the stuff that needs to be in the computer to get him to Encinas and on the payroll is there. Even the paperwork, for want of a better word, that has to be done for a deceased employee had been done. The only thing is'—he shrugged elaborately
—'nobody admits to doing it, Nobody even knew that this guy Ralph was dead.
Weird, huh?'
Leaning back in his chair, Consigli shook his head.
'What isn't weird about this assignment? Hey, maybe Connor's bunch just wised up and decided to send somebody less conspicuous.'
Delfino laughed. 'Yeah, that'd be smart. 'Cause wherever that big guy goes, hell follows.'
They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the monitors, contemplating the footage they'd seen of the 'big guy' in action. Truth to tell, it wouldn't have surprised either operative to find out that the head office wanted to find this guy so he could teach them to shoot as well as he did.
'So we're doubled up for the time being,' Consigli asked.
'Yep.'
'Kewl,' Joe said. 'Someone can go out for burgers. I was getting sick of brown-bagging peanut-butter sandwiches.'
Delfino gave him a look. 'You've been alone in this room too long if you think I'm gonna play errand boy, buddy. You want a sandwich you can go and get it yourself.'
'Kewl,' Consigli said, grinning at his fellow operative's suspicious expression. It would be nice to get some fresh air once in a while.
Sarah met the new janitor as she came out of the large, battered kitchen where she had been given a 'training opportunity' while she 'adjusted to her new environment.' In a few weeks, they'd gently promised her, if all went well she'd be 'encouraged to find a job of her own.' Sarah wondered how long it took to learn to speak in pat phrases like that. It made all the staff sound weirdly alike, as though their thoughts came prepackaged.
The kitchen job was fine with her; since she still tired easily, she didn't mind taking it slow. Running the dishwasher and putting things away was about the extent of her duties, so she couldn't complain, except about boredom. Which was all a matter of perception, she reminded herself.
But for now this place was about her speed. She could read—light fiction and self-help books—or watch TV. She'd never seen so much Disney in her life. The house had racks of their videos and someone always seemed to be halfway through one. Nothing violent or jarring or unpleasant was allowed in here. As
long as she didn't forget there was life on the outside of the halfway house, she was content for the moment.
As she was leaving the kitchen she was vaguely thinking about her hair. It had grown out considerably and the light hair above the dark looked very odd. The light part was getting long, so cutting it was a good idea, she thought.
Sarah almost bumped into him as he came around the corner. He effectively blocked the doorway, he was so broad; for a moment she felt trapped. It was obvious he was the janitor; he had the gray uniform, the bucket and mop, all the usual accoutrements. He wasn't, though. A nice old guy named Ralph was.
They stood there for a moment, looking at one another.
