anybody.”
“All right.”
Stone reached into his briefcase and took out a black plastic box. “Do your phones have the Caller ID feature that the phone company sells?”
“Yes; I don’t know how we ever did without it.”
“On the fax line, too?”
“I’ll have to ask Martha.”
“If you don’t already have it for that line, ask Martha to arrange it, then plug this unit into the line between the wall socket and the fax machine. Let’s see if we can see where this…newsletter is being faxed from.”
“An excellent idea,” Amanda said.
“Among your three employees, who is married?”
“None of them; Barry is gay, Helen is divorced, and Martha is single.”
“Does any of them have a regular companion?”
“Helen sees somebody, I believe; Barry, who knows? Martha doesn’t seem to have a social life, except vicariously, through me.”
“I’d like to know who Helen sees and, to the extent possible, who Barry’s closer friends are.”
Amanda frowned. “I don’t see how I can learn that without tipping them off, if one of them is involved.”
“Give me their addresses and phone numbers, then; I’ll have it checked out.”
“Discreetly, I hope.”
“Of course.”
Amanda flipped through her address book and wrote down Helen’s and Barry’s addresses. “I really don’t believe that either of them could have anything to do with this; they’ve too much to lose.”
“Then it will be best if we can eliminate them as suspects. We have to be sure.”
“You know best,” she said, handing over the addresses.
He looked at them. “What about Martha?” he asked.
“Oh.” She scribbled down the information and handed it over. “But believe me, investigating her would be a waste of your time.”
“Then I won’t bother until I’ve exhausted any other possibilities.”
Martha appeared in the doorway, clutching a sheet of paper. “Excuse me for interrupting, Amanda, but I thought you’d want to see this.” She handed her boss the paper.
Amanda read it quickly and handed it to Stone.
DIRT
Greetings, earthlings! Check out our dear Allan Peebles in the snaps below! Nice to know, isn’t it, that the fellow who has outed so many folks over the past couple of years is now out himself! This little photo op occurred in Allan’s backyard only last evening. The “rider” was booked by a very discreet Beverly Hills service that provides company for the lonely in the guise of pizza deliveries after dark. Word is, you can order just about any combination of goodies your little hearts desire!
Allan, who’s been playing the part of a divorced gentleman and father, was married to the boss’s daughter, you know. We hear that in order to get pregnant the lady had to verycarefully calculate her moment, then wear a sailor suit to arouse dear Allan’s interest long enough for a transfer of seed!
Let’s see if this makes the front page of this week’s Infiltrator !
“Well,” Stone said, “it looks as if this little sheet has coast-to-coast coverage, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Amanda said, taking back the fax and staring at the photographs, which made her want to vomit, because they were so similar in nature to the one of her that had appeared in the sheet. “Mind you, it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“What does this do for your investigation?” she asked.
“Broadens it considerably, I should think,” he replied.
Chapter 13
A rnie Millman waddled into Stone’s office and plopped into a chair. Arnie had been retired from the force for fifteen years, and he looked like half a million elderly Jewish retirees in New York City, making him ideal for surveillance.
“You putting on weight, Arnie?” Stone asked.
“Always. It’s my wife’s cheesecake; I can’t help myself.”
“You up for a little work?”
“Why not? The money I can use.”
Stone handed him a sheet of paper. “Two people: Helen Charlson and Barry White. They both work
“All right.”
Stone reached into his briefcase and took out a black plastic box. “Do your phones have the Caller ID feature that the phone company sells?”
“Yes; I don’t know how we ever did without it.”
“On the fax line, too?”
“I’ll have to ask Martha.”
“If you don’t already have it for that line, ask Martha to arrange it, then plug this unit into the line between the wall socket and the fax machine. Let’s see if we can see where this…newsletter is being faxed from.”
“An excellent idea,” Amanda said.
“Among your three employees, who is married?”
“None of them; Barry is gay, Helen is divorced, and Martha is single.”
“Does any of them have a regular companion?”
“Helen sees somebody, I believe; Barry, who knows? Martha doesn’t seem to have a social life, except vicariously, through me.”
“I’d like to know who Helen sees and, to the extent possible, who Barry’s closer friends are.”
Amanda frowned. “I don’t see how I can learn that without tipping them off, if one of them is involved.”
“Give me their addresses and phone numbers, then; I’ll have it checked out.”
“Discreetly, I hope.”
“Of course.”
Amanda flipped through her address book and wrote down Helen’s and Barry’s addresses. “I really don’t believe that either of them could have anything to do with this; they’ve too much to lose.”
“Then it will be best if we can eliminate them as suspects. We have to be sure.”
“You know best,” she said, handing over the addresses.
He looked at them. “What about Martha?” he asked.
“Oh.” She scribbled down the information and handed it over. “But believe me, investigating her would be a waste of your time.”
“Then I won’t bother until I’ve exhausted any other possibilities.”
Martha appeared in the doorway, clutching a sheet of paper. “Excuse me for interrupting, Amanda, but I thought you’d want to see this.” She handed her boss the paper.
Amanda read it quickly and handed it to Stone.
DIRT
Greetings, earthlings! Check out our dear Allan Peebles in the snaps below! Nice to know, isn’t it, that the fellow who has outed so many folks over the past couple of years is now out himself! This little photo op occurred in Allan’s backyard only last evening. The “rider” was booked by a very discreet Beverly Hills service that provides company for the lonely in the guise of pizza deliveries after dark. Word is, you can order just about any combination of goodies your little hearts desire!
Allan, who’s been playing the part of a divorced gentleman and father, was married to the boss’s daughter, you know. We hear that in order to get pregnant the lady had to verycarefully calculate her moment, then wear a sailor suit to arouse dear Allan’s interest long enough for a transfer of seed!
Let’s see if this makes the front page of this week’s Infiltrator !
“Well,” Stone said, “it looks as if this little sheet has coast-to-coast coverage, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Amanda said, taking back the fax and staring at the photographs, which made her want to vomit, because they were so similar in nature to the one of her that had appeared in the sheet. “Mind you, it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“What does this do for your investigation?” she asked.
“Broadens it considerably, I should think,” he replied.
Chapter 13
A rnie Millman waddled into Stone’s office and plopped into a chair. Arnie had been retired from the force for fifteen years, and he looked like half a million elderly Jewish retirees in New York City, making him ideal for surveillance.
“You putting on weight, Arnie?” Stone asked.
“Always. It’s my wife’s cheesecake; I can’t help myself.”
“You up for a little work?”
“Why not? The money I can use.”
Stone handed him a sheet of paper. “Two people: Helen Charlson and Barry White. They both work