“That’s fantastic!” Jed exclaimed. “Just what we need.”
Trent nodded, looking amazed. “But didn’t you just resubmit the application?”
“I got Senator Windra to pull some strings for us. He let me send the application directly to one of his judge friends. And Arianna’s little lying episode yesterday gave us reasonable suspicion, so it was a no-brainer for the judge to sign the form and fax it over to me this morning.”
“Wow,” Trent said. He leaned back in his chair, then forward. “Helps to have friends in high places.”
Banks was bobbing his head. “Impressive.”
“Very,” Jed said.
Dopp smiled, thinking that he had done the right thing by exploiting his connections in Albany. Not only did he make major progress, but he had also gained the admiration of his employees. How absurd it was to remember that his ego had almost stopped him from asking for help.
Trent put his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. “So how exactly is this going to work?”
“Well,” Dopp said, “I’m about to call her mobile carrier and relay the judge’s permission over so that they can bug her phone as soon as possible. First I wanted to get all the details straight with you three. Whoever is on duty will wait outside of wherever she is, in a car equipped with a radio interceptor. The interceptor will pick up any sounds near the microphone of her phone, even when she’s not using it. So whenever she drops the bomb to anyone—it doesn’t have to be Trent now—we’ve got her right then and there.”
“It’s perfect,” Jed said. “It’s practically over.”
“Finally,” Banks agreed.
“That’s the hope,” Dopp said, turning to look at Trent, who was nodding eagerly like the others. “Oh, and one last thing. Trent, I have a note about her cell phone number, but I just want to double-check it with you. Can you imagine how stupid it would be to go to all this trouble for the wrong number?”
For a brief moment, Trent did not appear to have understood. And then he reached into his pocket to pull out his own phone. “Sure. One second. Here we go.” He cleared his throat, staring at his phone. “Ready?”
“Yeah, yeah. What is it?”
“It’s 212-723-3223.”
“Good. Thank you. That’s just what I have here.”
* * *
When the meeting was over, Trent harnessed all his self-control and managed not to race out of the room. Instead he plastered on a smile and nodded while the others wished Dopp luck during his first monitoring shift, which was to begin immediately. As the four men walked to the elevator, Dopp explained that he had ordered a car to be waiting for him downstairs with all the necessary radio equipment. It was to be a gray electric sedan, a few years old, and utterly indistinct. All Dopp had to do was drive it to Arianna’s building, park it across the street, and wait for the phone company to remotely install the wiretap. Then they would be “in business,” assuming, of course, that she was at home. If not, the surveillance would have to wait until she returned. And if she happened to be out, it would be for the last time with privacy.
When Dopp noted this fact, he smiled. Trent’s skin crawled.
At that moment, the elevator doors opened and the four men walked inside, single file. They each took a corner of the small space, but Trent’s sleeve brushed against Dopp’s as they stood still, feeling the elevator’s measured descent. There was no room to move away. Trent wondered if this was what prison was like: crammed in one room with your least favorite people. A feeling of constriction crept into his collar, then his throat. He wondered if he’d ever have to find out.
At last—or maybe within seconds—the doors parted. Trent stepped out first, inhaling deeply. The other three followed. Outside, it had begun to rain. As they approached the glass lobby door, Trent saw a gray car idling in front of the building. It looked dreary and plain, just like the sky. The windows were an even darker, tinted gray.
“Ooh,” Jed called. “That must be the one.”
“Our new office,” Banks said, slapping Jed on the back. “If it even gets that far.”
Dopp was beaming. As they walked out the door, everyone opened up umbrellas, except for Trent. He had forgotten to check the weather.
An official-looking man in blue blazer got out of the car as Dopp approached the edge of the sidewalk. Banks, Jed, and Trent hung back. The cold rain slithered inside Trent’s collar and down his back, but he hardly noticed as he watched his boss shake hands with the man. Dopp nodded as the man spoke and gestured, pointing to devices inside the car that Trent could not see. After a minute, Dopp signed a form—probably an expense report for the department, Trent thought—and then took the keys.
Dopp thrust them into the air like a trophy.
Banks and Jed clapped, and Trent had no choice but to mimic them.
“See you at eleven tonight, Jed,” Dopp called. “Outside her building unless I call about a change.”
“You got it,” Jed hollered back.
Dopp waved, jingling the metal keys, and then disappeared into the car. Trent heard the engine rumble and saw the headlights turn on, projecting parallel beams onto the slick street.
As soon as the car jerked away, Trent knew what he had to do. He said good-bye to the others, ran up to an empty cab sitting at a stoplight, and jumped in. He squished into the leather of the backseat, feeling his wet shirt and pants clinging to his skin. The driver eyed him crossly.
“Sorry,” Trent muttered. Dopp’s car was already out of sight, on its way downtown. With little traffic on Saturday morning, Arianna had at most ten minutes until he got there.
“Well?” the driver snapped.
“Seventy-third and Columbus, please.”
The cab sped ahead, and Trent looked away from the rearview mirror, where the driver’s brown eyes were watching him with dismay. Then he called the number he had been forced to
