Perpetual Motion (14 page)

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a figure
darting through the room. Before he could react, he was hit in the
chest by the girl who had flung herself at him.

Looking down at the mop of hair, he found
Karen sobbing into his shirt, pressing the handgun into his side.
Desmond sheepishly came over and, awkwardly, stood next to them,
head down. Not knowing what else to do, Cynical put his arms out,
embracing the two of them.

Even though they had just met, the kids had
become attached to him, literally. Of course, it was only because
they were desperate and scared and didn’t have anywhere else to
turn. And yet, that didn’t make their emotions any less raw.
Strangest of all, as he held them, he felt something too: an
overwhelming desire to protect them.

“Let’s have a seat,” he said, after a good
fifteen seconds of bonding.

The threesome drifted apart, each finding
their way to a piece of cheap furniture.

It might not be the best timing, but Cynical
decided he needed to go ahead and lay out his plan, such that it
was. “I’m not sure what we’re up against here, but I don’t think
they’re going to stop until they feel like they’ve made sure no one
can reproduce whatever you guys invented.”

“I know how to reproduce it!” Desmond
exclaimed.

“I know. And that’s why you need to let me
protect you,” Cynical said. “But I also think we need to get
Michael to Mancuso.”

“How is that going to help?” he demanded.

“Once Mancuso knows how to make this
invention, he can take it public. And, at that point, whoever is
behind all this will have no reason to come after you – or Michael
– or anyone anymore. The secret will be out, so what would be the
point?”

While he was answering Desmond, he was
looking more intently at Karen since she was the one he really
needed to convenience. Encouraged by her slight nod, he continued.
“That means we need to get you back to your apartment so you can be
there when Michael calls.”

Suddenly, Karen looked reticent.

“I’m having your apartment swept for bugs
later today,” Cynical quickly said, hoping to soothe some of her
concerns. He paused knowing the next part might be tricky. “If
Michael does call you, can you ask if he’ll meet with me
again?”

“He doesn’t really trust anyone right now,”
Karen said uneasily.

“He trusts you,” Cynical said. “You need to
make him understand that he’s not going to be left alone until this
technology is in safe hands, like Mancuso’s.”

It seemed to make sense to Karen, although
Desmond still wasn’t on board. “Why should Mancuso get all the
profit?” he asked. “I mean, I know he invested some money in it,
but it was our idea – our work!”

“That may be,” Cynical said calmly, “But
Michael and Mancuso had a deal.”

“Well, it was a stupid deal,” Desmond said
with a snarl. “Michael was so desperate for capital he got suckered
by this guy.”

“It seems to me, Mancuso is your best chance
right now.”

“If I move back into my apartment,” Karen
interjected, “I don’t want to stay there by myself.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth
than Desmond had spoken up. “I’ll stay with you.”

Karen feigned an appreciative smile.

“That might be a good idea,” Cynical offered,
knowing it would be easier to keep an eye on both of them if they
were in the same place. It was also obvious that Desmond would go
along with any plan if he could stay close to Karen.

After mulling it over, she looked up with a
purposeful expression. “Okay. I’ll try.”

When Desmond raised no more objections,
Cynical knew he had temporarily won their trust. He just hoped he
was worthy of it.

It was three in the afternoon when Cynical
and the kids drove over to the University Circle apartments.
Pulling into the high-rise condo’s expansive underground garage,
the private eye instantly spotted a suspicious, unmarked white van
in the loading area by the elevators. A slender young man wearing
white coveralls was standing at the van’s open back doors,
gathering up equipment.

“That’s our guy,” Cynical said, parking next
to him.

The good-looking young man with a full head
of black slicked back hair, a thick English moustache, and a broad
smile turned to greet them.

“What’s going on Cynical?”

“Thanks for coming on short notice,” Cynical
said, shutting his car door and shaking the man’s hand. “Karen,
Desmond, this is Angelo, exterminator extraordinaire. He’ll take
care of any bug problems you might have.”
Waving off the compliment, Angelo turned back to the open van. “Is
that what we’re doing here? Looking for bugs?”

“Yeah,” Cynical said. “Karen thinks someone
might have broken in a few days ago and we want to check it
out.”

The bug man rumbled through his tool box,
transferring equipment to an aluminum briefcase. “You said they
might be using high end stuff?”
“Probably,” Cynical confirmed. “They’re pros.”

With briefcase in hand, Angelo stood up
straight. “Well, let’s go find out how good they really are.”
Slamming the van door closed, he strode to the elevators with his
entourage following along behind.

Once inside the elevator, Karen hit the
button to her floor.

As they started to rise, Angelo turned to
Cynical. “How’s that system we put in at your place?”

“Great. Every time I accidentally set it off,
I think of you and your dad.”

Angelo chuckled all the way to the third
floor.

Even though he already knew the way, Cynical
let Karen lead them to 315. No sense advertising the fact that he’d
already paid her a visit.

At her door, Karen took out her key and, as
soon as they were inside, Angelo started sizing up the room on his
way to the phone on the kitchen counter.

“How long is this going to take?” Cynical
inquired.

“Two or three hours.”

“All right, can I get anyone something to
eat?” Cynical offered.
“You got any good pizza joints around here?” Angelo asked.

“Yeah, Fellini’s Pizza is around the corner,”
Desmond immediately said, sounding hungry himself.

“They deliver too,” Karen added.

Angelo handed her the phone. “I’m a sausage
and black olive man myself.”

Paying off the pizza delivery man, Cynical
brought the two extra large boxes into the kitchen where Desmond
and Karen were absorbed in watching the younger Neuberg at work.
Wires streamed from the phone to a small screen where sound waves
wriggled and danced in a continuous chorus line of activity.

“Okay, this is the spectrum analyzer,” Angelo
informed them. “Now I got ears and eyes.” The line jumped on the
screen. “See that! There’s something on the line, all right.”

“You mean a bug?” Karen asked, wide-eyed.

“Yep,” Angelo said, excitedly. Helping
himself to a slice, he took a bite and nodded with appreciation as
he chewed. “Not bad.”

“I knew it,” Karen said, slightly stunned by
the confirmation.

“What can we do about it?” Desmond asked.

“We’ve got to find the little bugger,” Angelo
said thoughtfully. “I’ve already checked the phone, so they
probably attached it outside by the phone box. I’ll go take a
look.”

“Yeah, well, be careful,” Cynical suggested.
“There’s a guard around here who takes his job a little too
seriously.”

“Hey, I’m just a Pac Bell employee,” he said
as he zipped up his coveralls and tapped on the blue logo of a
phone. Careful not to get grease on his new uniform, Angelo put
what was left of his slice on a paper towel on the counter before
heading out the door.

As soon as he was gone, Cynical went out to
the balcony with Karen behind him. Desmond stayed back in the
kitchen, studying the telephone analyzer as he worked on his second
slice of pizza.

Standing next to the detective, Karen stared
at the front lawn, as a couple of co-eds who strolled by with
backpacks in tow. “So, how did you know about our security guard?”
she casually asked.

“Um, I came by here yesterday,” Cynical
admitted, realizing his misstep a little too late. “I was looking
for you.”

She took a moment to assimilate that
information before she queried, “So, how did you know I might be at
the Boom Boom Room?”

“I talked to one of your friend, Lorisa,”
Cynical said. Before she could ask another question, he tried to
change the subject. “I can’t imagine you going to the Boom Boom
Room. That doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“It was fun for a while,” she said with a
shrug. “It was a good place to dance.”

She seemed to be formulating another
question, but before she could get it out, Cynical pointed down.
“There’s Angelo.”

The white coveralls emerged from a side exit
below and coolly walked over to the phone box in front of the
complex. Popping the panel with a screwdriver, he began searching
through bundles of wires with a pen light. He was so involved in
his work he didn’t notice the security guard exiting from the front
door and marching toward him.

“Oh no,” Cynical muttered, watching
helplessly as Karl closed in on his faux phone man.

From the balcony, it appeared that Angelo was
talking fast and pointing at the open utility box with thick
bundles of exposed phone lines hanging out. At one point, Karl
looked up in the general direction of 315, causing Cynical to drop
below the half-wall of stucco. “Get down,” he ordered, as if
expecting an incoming grenade.

“Why? I live here,” Karen said calmly,
standing her ground. “Besides, they’re both going inside.”

Turning, she went inside her apartment,
leaving Cynical huddled on the balcony. Sheepishly, he got up,
looked around the empty lawn, and went back inside too.

While he might have over-reacted, he knew
Karl was already onto him and
it would be
extremely problematic if he got the police involved. Trying to take
his mind off the security guard, he went into the kitchen and found
the box of pizza, but a
knock froze him in mid-bite.
Before Cynical could attempt to hide again, or even put the slice
down, Karen answered the door.

Angelo smiled as he entered. “Got it,” he
said as he slipped a small computer chip out of his pocket. “A
Syntex 5000, top of the line too.” Looking at Cynical, he asked,
“You mind if I hold onto it?”

“Keep it,” Cynical said. “Did you have any
problem with the security guard?”
“Nah.” Angelo sauntered toward the kitchen to recheck the telephone
line. “I just told him I was following up on a complaint about a
crossed wire.”

“Can I see it?” Desmond asked, staring at the
little device.

“Wipe your hands first,” Angelo ordered.

Desmond complied, wiping pizza grease from
his fingertips onto a paper towel. When Angelo was satisfied his
hands were sufficiently clean, he handed it over. Holding the tiny
transmitter up to the light, Desmond stared long and hard, as if he
might be able to see who was listening on the other side.

Another stern knock startled everyone and all
eyes fell to Cynical. Putting his slice down, he walked over to the
door and, cautiously, peered through the eyehole.

Standing in the hall was a crew-cut bristling
over a furrowed brow. Another agitated rap followed. Deciding the
situation needed to be faced head-on, Cynical swung the door
open.

“Well, hello, Karl.”

“What are you doing here?” the guard
demanded, his radio poised in his hand.

“I am here at the tenant’s request,” Cynical
replied as he motioned for Karen.

Walking over, she joined Cynical in the open
doorway.

“Hey Karl,” Karen said sweetly.

“So, he has permission to be here?” Karl
asked suspiciously, searching for any nonverbal signs of a hostage
situation.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Who was the guy at the phone box outside?”
Karl asked as he tried to peer into the apartment. “And don’t tell
me PacBell. I already called them and they don’t have any workers
out here.”

“I hired him to debug her apartment,” Cynical
confessed as he swung the door wide enough to reveal the whole
gang. From the kitchen, Desmond and Angelo waved.

“What’s going on here?” the security guard
demanded, his voice rising.

“Okay, take it easy,” Cynical said as he
stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. Walking a
few steps from the apartment, he motioned for Karl to join him,
which he reluctantly did.

“Like I told you the other day,” Cynical
said. “I’m trying to protect this girl.”

“If she’s in so much danger, shouldn’t she be
in a safe house or something?”

“Normally,” the x-detective admitted as he
scrambled to spin a semi-coherent story. “Right now, we want
everything to appear normal, so the Mob won’t suspect anything is
up.”

“And the Mafia is bugging her apartment?”

“We think so,” Cynical confirmed. “See,
they’re suspicious, but they’re not sure what she knows.”

“So, won’t they be more suspicious when their
bugs have been taken out?”

“Yeah, you’re right Karl,” Cynical said,
actually impressed with the kid’s logic. “We’re going to reinstall
the bugs. We just needed to prove they were there. It’s more
evidence.” He could only hope Karl wasn’t catching a strong whiff
of fish in the air. Changing the subject, he said, “You know,
you’re exactly the kind of guy I want on this job. When is your
shift?”

“Three to midnight.”

“Well, I wished we had you all night,”
Cynical said, seemingly troubled that Karl wasn’t working
twenty-four hours a day. “Who comes on after you?”

“Marvin”

“Is he as good as you?”

Karl shrugged, not exactly a vote of
confidence. “I think he sleeps a lot.”

“All right, I’m going to have to beef up
security when you’re not around,” Cynical said, mulling over a
plan. “Tell you what; I’m going to make you a deal.” He paused, as
if contemplating whether he should make this generous an offer.
Finally, he seemed to reach a difficult decision.