happy, especially Bruce. The owner, Princeton’s library, got the priceless manuscripts back. The insurance company took a hit but the damage could have been far worse. Of the actual thieves, little need be said. Three were in prison. One was dead.
Since then, Bruce had marveled at the security firm’s elaborate scheme. It was nothing short of brilliant and had almost worked. He became convinced that he needed to know more about the people who had almost ruined him. He leaned on Mercer, who reluctantly made the phone call and established the contact. Her handler had been a shrewd operator named Elaine Shelby, and Bruce was determined to meet her.
2.
The building was one of half a dozen tall, new, gleaming structures near Dulles Airport, twenty-four miles west of the U.S. capital and in the sprawl of northern Virginia. From the moment Bruce parked his rental car underground, he felt as though he was being monitored. At the front desk, he was photographed, body-scanned, and asked to stare into a camera to record forever his facial features. As he was led to an elevator he searched in vain for a directory on a wall, but didn’t see one. Evidently the folks who leased these offices did not favor publicity. A security guard was waiting when he stepped off on the fourth floor. No smile, no pleasant greeting, no meaningful word. Just a grunt and a motion. There were no work pods with multiple desks, no pools of secretaries. From the time Bruce stepped off the elevator until he walked into the office of Elaine Shelby, he saw no one else except the guard.
Elaine was coming around her desk with a smile and handshake as the guard closed the door.
“I feel as though you should frisk me,” Bruce said.
“Bend over,” she snapped and Bruce burst out laughing. She waved to a sofa and said, “Might as well laugh, Cable, you beat us fair and square.”
They took seats around a low table and she began pouring coffee.
“You got the manuscripts back,” he said. “Everybody’s happy.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“It was a brilliant idea, Ms. Shelby.”
“Drop the formal stuff. I’ll be Elaine and you’ll be Bruce, okay?”
“Fine with me.”
“You call it brilliant, in our business we call it a failure, which, I hate to say, is not that unusual. We are dealt the toughest cases and we don’t always win.”
“But you always get paid.”
“Damned right we do. Don’t you just love Mercer?”
“I tried my best. Great girl, wonderful writer.”
“Did you guys make it all the way to bed?”
“Oh, I never kiss and tell, Elaine. That’s very unprofessional.”
“You have a horrible reputation for chasing the young female writers.”
“Why is that horrible? I assure you it’s all consensual. These liberated women are on the road and looking for fun. I just try to accommodate them.”
“We know, we know. That was our plan.”
“Almost brilliant. Was it your idea?”
“We have teams, no one works solo around here. It was a joint effort.”
“Okay. What can you tell me about this outfit?”
“I understand you want to hire us.”
“I’m interested, but I need to know more.”
She took a sip of coffee and recrossed her legs. Bruce refused to notice. “Well, for lack of a better description, we are a security firm.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Not really.”
“So, if I eventually write out a check for payment, it will be ‘pay to the order of…’?”
“Alpha North Solutions.”
“How wonderfully bland.”
“And you came up with ‘Bay Books’?”
“I did. Much sexier.”
“Is it really that important for you to like our name?”
“I guess not.”
“May I proceed? You did inquire.”
“I did.