I flipped the goggles back to ambient light and waited for the picture to blossom. The window, two panels of panes, was locked, of course. I forced a shim into the gap between the panels and started prying.
Just as I felt the latch give, I heard a whistle. High-pitched. Then a human whistling. Now a male voice called for the dog. I couldn’t make out the critter’s name, but the tone of voice was the same in any language.
I eased the window open and stepped through.
Once I was inside with the window closed and latched, I looked down onto the lawn. The man had a flashlight and was casting the beam around, calling the dog.
If he found him, this gig was going sour fast.
I put the goggles back on the infrared setting and began looking around for heat sources. The interior walls were wooden, and much thinner than the cut-stone exterior walls, so I had to diddle with the adjustment knob.
There was a person in the next room, obviously lying down. No, two people, apparently in bed together — and not moving. Asleep, I hoped.
No one in the hallway beyond the door, which wasn’t locked. I opened it and scanned the dark hallway.
There were at least six bedrooms leading off the hallway. Only the one beside me contained a person.
Out in the hallway I looked downward, trying to see if there were people on the floor below.
No.
The hallway and stairs were carpeted. Still, I eased down the stairs, staying to one side in case there was a creaky board. A building this old, I bet there wasn’t a nail in it — just pegs.
Taking my time, exploring, I worked through the lower floor. There was a kitchen, a formal dining room, a couple of sitting rooms, a library with a television, a couple of small bathrooms that looked like they might have been closets way back when, an office and a master bedroom suite. The master suite contained people, two, apparently asleep. Mounted in corners in every room were surveillance cameras, and here and there a motion detector. Without power they were useless, but if the power came back on…
There was a safe in the office, a floor-mounted job about three feet high. I noted the brand and model number, just in case Jake Grafton got another big idea.
Then I attacked the office. Working as quickly as I could, I installed a key logger on the computer keyboard cord, under the desk and out of sight, then installed audio bugs on the curtains, up as high as I could reach, and put one mounted on a pin on the back of an upholstered chair. It would be good to know who was using the computer, so I installed three video bugs facing the desk. They would essentially cover the room.
“There’s a car coming.” That was Willie’s voice in my right ear.
I headed for the library, then the sitting rooms and dining room, and installed audio bugs in each one. These were top of the line, so small that they fit nicely on the head of a pin. I worked a couple into the edges of the carpets.
“He’s slowin’ down and lookin’ me over, Tommy.”
The bed room was the place I wanted into, though, and there were people in there. I tried the doorknob. It was locked. As I bent down to examine it with the goggles on the ambient light setting, I heard a noise: a door closing somewhere in the building.
Back to infrared. As I waited for the picture to change I groped for the stairs.
I had just reached them when I saw him, coming around the corner from the kitchen. He had a flashlight, which looked like a tiny glowworm in infrared. He opened a doorway and began descending the stairs.
“Okay, he’s goin’ on. Might call the police, though. Maybe you’d better hurry up and get your sneaky ass out of there.”
Call it intuition, but I just knew the man in the house was going to the basement to fire up an emergency generator.
Flipping the goggles to ambient light, I came back down the stairs and made for the kitchen and the door that led out the back, the one the man had just entered. It was unlocked, of course. I pulled it shut behind me.
Turning, I saw a dog coming at a dead run, a speeding green shape against the light green background, and, quicker than thought, he was there! I just had time to set my feet. He growled as he leaped for my throat.
I balled my right hand into a fist, pivoted on my left foot and hit him in the side of the neck with everything I had. By sheer dumb luck my timing was perfect — I couldn’t do that again if my life depended on it. The impact of the blow deflected him to the left, and his tail slapped me on the side of the face as he went flying by.
The dog splattered against the ground — didn’t try to break his fall. Lay there motionless. Didn’t even whine.
Oh, man, I hope to hell I didn’t kill him!
If I killed this damn dog they would search that house from stem to stern after they found him.
I started for the corner of the house. The garage was back here, a two-story thing with living quarters on the top floor. A paved driveway led around front.
Then I changed my mind and went back to the dog. He must have weighed fifty pounds. I picked him up and put him over my shoulder. He was still limp. If he came to while I was toting him, he was going to give me a serious hickey.
I went around the house, staying on the driveway, and then angled across the lawn for the spot in the perimeter fence where I came in. I knew I was leaving tracks in the soft sod, but it couldn’t be helped. Maybe the guard, if that was who he was, would think they were his.
The dog didn’t twitch. I could tell by the way his head flopped that I had broken his neck.
I changed my mind again, turned and hotfooted it for the main gate, which was a wrought-iron affair about ten feet high, and tried to stick the dog’s head between two of the iron uprights, but they were too far apart.
I forced his head under the gate. It was a really tight fit, but the dog didn’t protest. When I had him wedged in as tight as I could get him, I trotted for my tree.
The other dog was stirring.
I scrambled up that tree and out the limb as fast as I could go, leaped toward the ground and twisted my ankle a little when I hit. I rolled over and was rubbing my ankle when the lights in the house came back on.
I keyed the mike button on my radio. “Where are you, Willie?”
“Where I’m supposed to be.”
“Come get me. I’m beside the fence.”
“Okay.”
I was on my feet waiting when Willie pulled up. I opened the door and threw my backpack in. Then I collapsed in the passenger seat. He didn’t even wait for me to get the door closed before he accelerated away.
“How’d it go?” he asked as I struggled to take off my goggles and radio headset. My hands were shaking and I was feeling the effects of an adrenaline overdose.
“There were two dogs.”
“They get a piece of you?”
“No.”
“You lucky fucker.”
“Yeah. Shot with luck.”
“I mean it. You’re the luckiest fucker I know.” That was Willie— he always could put things in the proper perspective.
“Let’s go to Paris,” I said. I reclined the seat and closed my eyes, which shut him up. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. That dog — wheeyooo, that was close.
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning I listened as Conner washed and dressed and finally left her apartment. I was at the window when I saw her jog off down the street. I used the infrared goggles to check the buildings across the street, trying to find someone who might have me under surveillance — and saw no such person.
I went down to the street and walked around, looking in shop windows and paying particular attention to the
