Page 130 of Near Miss

Teddy nodded. “Exactly as scripted.”

“You’re sure the bug picked everything up?” Stone asked.

“Each and every word.” Teddy’s occasional absences had been due to him checking equipment he’d set up in another room, to monitor what the bugs were recording and if they were transmitting properly.

Stone’s cell phone rang with a call from Dino. He put it on speaker.

“Well?” Dino said.

“You’re a natural,” Teddy said.

“Maybe I should get a headshot and send it to a certain movie studio in Hollywood. I would hate for my talent to go unappreciated by the masses.”

“I was speaking of your voice. As they say, you have a face for radio.”

“He could be a character actor,” Carly said.

“Don’t encourage him,” Stone said.

“Call me if you require an encore performance,” Dino said and then hung up.

“So, what now?” Carly asked.

“Now, we eat lunch,” Teddy said. “Then it will be your moment to shine.”

Chapter 63

Sarge entered the suite at the Four Seasons that was serving as his mission headquarters and headed straight to where Deacon, his sound expert, was set up.

“I got a message that the bugs are working,” Sarge said.

Deacon removed his headphones and smiled. “Oh, yeah.”

“Since when?”

“Around nineam. I didn’t get around to checking until right before I called you.” Deacon’s excitement slipped a little. “Sorry. It’s just we hadn’t—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Since the conversation they’d heard right after the clock had been delivered days earlier, the bug had picked up nothing else. The same was true of the listening devices in the wine basket.

“Do you know why it’s working now?” Sarge asked.

Deacon shrugged. “I guess they got around to finding a place for the clock.”

That had to be it. The Sarge had used the bugs before against more formidable opponents and never once had they been detected. No way an uptown lawyer like Barrington would find them.

“What have you heard?”

“Mostly work calls. Law stuff. But there is one conversation I know you’ll be interested in.”

Sarge leaned over Deacon’s shoulder. “Play it.”

Deacon hit a few buttons, and Barrington’s voice came over the speaker. He was talking with his friend, the police commissioner. Sarge cocked his head at the mention of an event on Friday night that both men would be attending.

“Play it again,” he said.

Deacon did.

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