people out here. He thought it would save the time of mailing them.”
There was a long silence after this confession.
“Are you saying you stole the hotel bills?”
“I’m saying what I just said. They were given to me. And on Thorson’s bill there were calls to both Michael Warren and the PTL. And that’s funny, since you people supposedly didn’t know about the PTL until today.”
“I’m sending someone over to pick up those bills.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t have them. They were stolen from my room in Hollywood. You’ve got a fox in the henhouse, Bob.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Tell me about the box of condoms you found in Thorson’s things and I’ll tell you what I’m talking about.”
I heard him exhale in a tired, I-give-up fashion.
“There was a box of condoms, okay? It wasn’t even opened. Now, what’s it mean?”
“Where is it now?”
“It’s in a sealed cardboard box with the rest of his things. It goes back to Virginia with his body tomorrow morning.”
“Where’s this sealed box?”
“Right here with me.”
“I need you to open it, Bob. Look at the condoms, see if there is a price tag or anything that shows where he got them.”
As I listened to the sounds of him tearing cardboard and tape my mind served up my memory of the sight of Thorson coming down the hall with something in his hand.
“I can tell you right now,” Backus said as he was opening the property box, “they were in a bag from a drugstore.”
I felt my heart leap and next I heard the crinkling sound of a bag opening.
“Okay, I’ve got it,” Backus said in a voice showing his strained patience. “Scottsdale drugs. Open twenty-four hours. Box of twelve condoms, nine ninety-five. You want to know the brand, too, Jack?”
I ignored his sarcasm but his question gave me an idea for later.
“There’s a receipt?”
“I just read it to you.”
“What about the date and time of purchase, that on there? Most of these computer registers put it on there.”
Silence. So long I wanted to scream.
“Sunday morning, twelve fifty-four.”
I closed my eyes. While Thorson was buying a box of condoms, of which he wouldn’t even use one, someone was in his room making phone calls.
“Okay, Jack, what’s it mean?” Backus asked.
“It means everything is a lie.”
I opened my eyes and pulled the phone from my ear. I looked at it like it was some alien thing attached to my hand and slowly dropped it back into its cradle.
Bledsoe was still in his office and answered on the first ring.
“Dan, it’s Jack again.”
“Jack Mac, what’s up?”
“You know that beer you said you owed me? I thought of something else you can do for me instead.”
“You got it.”
I told him what I needed him to do and he didn’t hesitate, even when I told him I needed it done now. He said he couldn’t promise results but that he’d get back to me one way or the other as soon as possible.
I thought about the first call made while Thorson was out of his room. It had been to the general public line at the Quantico center. It hadn’t struck me as odd when I called the number on the plane. But now it did. Why would someone call the general number in the middle of the night? I knew now that the answer could only be that the caller did not want to call a direct number at the center, thereby revealing knowledge of that number. Instead, through her computer, she called the general number and when the operator recognized the fax mating beep, the call was transferred to one of the general fax lines.
I recalled that during the Sunday morning meeting on the fax from the Poet, Thorson had recited the details after getting the rundown from Quantico. The fax had come through on the general number and had been transferred to a fax machine.
Without a word an operator at Quantico switched me to the BSS offices when I called and asked for Agent Brad Hazelton. The phone rang three times and I thought I was too late, that he had gone for the day, when he finally picked up.
“Brad, it’s Jack McEvoy. In Los Angeles.”
“Hey, Jack, how’re you doing? Pretty close call for you yesterday.”
“I’m doing okay. I’m sorry about Agent Thorson. I know everybody works very closely together there . . .”
“Well, he was pretty much an asshole but nobody deserves what happened to him. It’s pretty awful. Not a lot of smiling faces around here today.”
“I