New Tricks - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,102

suggested I let Waggy live in that house while I decided who to award him to. It would have saved Jimmy Childs the trouble of trying to kill Waggy.

She was also there the day before the poison was thrown in our yard. We hadn’t been walking Waggy, in an effort to hide his location. But Martha saw him, and I believe that set the attempted poisoning in motion.

And Martha was one of very few people with access to Walter’s lab, and the knowledge of what he was doing. When she blew up the lab she must have felt she and her people had learned all there was to learn, of course having no idea that the FBI had been there first.

As often happens when I get myself in these situations, I don’t have a concrete plan for what I’ll do when I get to Steven’s house.

I call his number on my cell phone, and I’m surprised when he answers. “Hello,” he says. He doesn’t sound tense or upset, which is a relief.

“Steven, it’s me, Andy.”

“Andy, how are you? Checking up on Waggy?”

“Steven, have you heard from Martha Wyndham?”

“She’s right here. She came to visit and take Waggy for a walk.”

If there was a worse thing I could have heard him say, I’m hard-pressed to think of it now. I never should have made this call. “Steven, listen to me very carefully, and don’t say anything. Martha has been behind this all along, and you are in danger. Now pretend that I asked you over for dinner this weekend, and you’d like to come.”

He hesitates a moment and then says, “Dinner Saturday? Sure, I’d like that.”

“I’m going to be there with the police in just a couple of minutes. When we get off the phone, I want you to very casually go into the bathroom, and then lock yourself in. Do not come out no matter what.”

My hope is that Martha, realizing the police are on their way, will take Waggy and leave, and not worry about dealing with Steven. Even if she has a gun, she would be unlikely to use it to shoot open the bathroom door. It would attract too much attention. I hope.

“Don’t worry about Waggy, just go into the bathroom. Now say something friendly about dinner.”

“Sounds great,” he says. “What time should I be there?”

“I’m going to hang up now. Pretend to wrap up the call and then say good-bye. And Steven, you need to act as if nothing is wrong.”

I hang up and try to figure out my next step. There is certainly no way for me to storm the apartment, even if I were so inclined. It’s on the fourth floor, and there’s only a single staircase leading up to it. I would think somebody up there could hold off a SWAT team, so it’s unlikely that an unarmed, chickenshit lawyer is going to fight his way in. Besides, once Steven is barricaded in the bathroom, Martha is likely to be making a hasty exit.

I reach the apartment in what must be record time, and I jump out and drop the fistful of money through the window in the driver’s lap. I go up the five steps to the door, and am confronted with the realization that I have no idea what to do now.

I look around and cannot see any arriving federal agents; for the moment it’s only me. I also have no key to get into the building, so I decide to buzz every other apartment, and hope somebody lets me in. There are twelve total apartments in the building, including Steven’s, so I buzz the other eleven. Through the intercom, four people ask who it is, and in each case I say “UPS.” At least one of them presses their buzzer, and the door opens.

I’m inside, and still without the slightest idea what to do. I leave the door ajar behind me, to make it easy for Corvallis and his agents to get in should they ever show up. I decide to walk up the stairs and hopefully listen through the door into Steven’s apartment; at least that way maybe I can find out if Martha’s still there.

I’m on the second-floor landing when a door opens on one of the floors above, and I hear the telltale sound of Waggy’s feet scratching and trying to get traction on the slippery floor.

I hear Martha say, “Take it easy. Calm down.” She’s got more chance of her command being obeyed if she tells

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