The Blackstone Chronicles - By John Saul Page 0,44

as he started toward his office at the back of the Bank in the corner next to the vault.

But it wasn’t just the tellers who were watching him. The guards were all following his progress too. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, and he felt a shiver pass through him that didn’t release him from its cold grip until he was inside his office and had closed the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, waiting for the tension that had been building inside him from the moment he left the house to ease.

Now, for the first time, he felt his heart pounding.

Had Madeline put something in his coffee this morning?

No, he’d fooled her and hadn’t had any coffee.

Finally moving away from the door, he went to his desk and dropped into the big chair that had been his father’s and grandfather’s before him. He was about to press the button on the intercom and ask Ellen Golding to bring him a cup of coffee, but quickly thought better of it. Whatever was going on at the Bank—and it was clear now that the Federal Reserve audit was only part of a much larger conspiracy—surely they would have recruited Ellen at the very beginning.

Better to get his own coffee before that sneaking bitch could doctor it!

Stepping out of the office, he went to the coffeepot Ellen always kept on the credenza that contained all his files and started to pour himself a cup.

“Why didn’t you call me, Mr. Hartwick?” Ellen asked. “I could have done that for you.”

He’d been right! She would have put something in it. Should he fire her right now? Better not to let them know he was on to them yet. “I’m not totally helpless, Ellen,” he said. “Besides, isn’t asking your secretary to bring you coffee considered grounds for a lawsuit these days?”

Ellen Golding stared at her boss. What on earth was he talking about? She’d been his secretary for nearly ten years, and brought him a cup of coffee every single morning. It was part of her job, for God’s sake! “Are you all right, Mr. Hartwick?”

“Don’t I look all right?” Jules shot back. “Do I look like something’s wrong with me? Well, I can assure you, Miss Golding, that nothing is wrong with me, and nothing is going to be wrong with me, no matter how clever you might think you are.” Taking the cup of coffee with him, he retreated to his office, closing the door behind him once more. Back at his desk, he took a sip of the coffee.

It had a bitter flavor to it that instantly put him on his guard. Had Ellen put something in the pot?

He pushed the cup aside.

Suddenly, the feeling of being watched swept over him again. But how? He was alone in his office.

Wasn’t he?

What if someone was hiding in his private bathroom? Rising abruptly, he moved to the bathroom door, listened for a moment, then pulled the door open.

Empty.

Or was it?

What about the shower?

His heart pounding harder, he crossed the tile floor.

The shower curtain was closed, but he could almost feel the presence behind it.

Who?

In a movement so quick it surprised even himself, he reached out and snatched the curtain aside with so much force that three of its rings tore loose from the plastic fabric.

The stall was empty. Venting his frustration by jerking the rest of the curtain loose, he left it crumpled on the bathroom floor and went back to his office. And the moment he was back inside the paneled room, he knew where the watchers were hiding.

The security cameras!

There were two of them, set up six years ago not because Jules thought them necessary but because the insurance company had offered a reduction in premiums if they were installed. Now, however, he understood the real reason the insurance company had wanted the cameras put in. It wasn’t to protect security at all.

It was so they could spy on him!

He picked up the phone and punched in the extension for his executive vice-president. “I want the security cameras in my office turned off,” he said without so much as a good morning.

“I beg your pardon?” Melissa Holloway asked.

“You heard me!” Jules snapped. “I want the cameras in my office off right now, and taken out completely by lunchtime!” Slamming the phone back onto its cradle, he glowered up at the mechanical eye that stared at him from the corner. Then, unable