other.”
Albracht held
up his hand.
“You’re
preaching to the choir, my friend. I personally will take all the help I can
get on this one. Sebastian can be a royal pain in the ass. He wants to be safe,
but he also wants freedom of action where the ladies are concerned. There will
apparently be good hunting at the conference in that regard, with all the
literary agents and wannabee writers who want to, how shall I put it, suck up
to him. We’ve done this before with him, although not with such a threat
hanging over his head.”
“Do you think
it’s credible.”
“Somebody killed
Arhaut.”
“How many
people on your side?”
“In addition
to a team leader, five.”
“That’s you?”
“No. Desk duty
on this one. We decided to go with a woman. Thought she might blend in better,
since the majority of attendees are women. You’ll meet her in a minute. She’s
former Secret Service, like me. Recruited her myself. I have to warn you she
may have a bit of a chip on her shoulder about you, since you are someone who
doesn’t have to report to her. But she’s a pro. I don’t envision any major
problems.”
Scarne
reserved judgment on that.
“The basic
problem we have is that Quimper wants us to be unnoticeable. Says he can’t ‘be
himself’ with armed guards hovering around him. What he means is that he can’t
run a line of bullshit on some literary groupie in a crowd.”
There was
knock on the door jamb. Both men stood as a woman walked into Albracht’s
office.
“You wanted to
see me, Bill,” she said.
“Yes. Karen,
this is Jake Scarne, the man I told you about. Jake, Karen Porcelli will be
heading up our security for the Killerfest.”
Scarne and the
woman shook hands. Her handshake was a bit too firm; she was overcompensating
for being a woman in what is still a predominantly male business. A
sharp-featured woman in her mid 30’s, more handsome than traditionally beautiful,
she was dressed for business and wearing little makeup. If she wanted to be
beautiful, Scarne assumed, she could easily arrange that, and, when the
occasion arose, probably did. Her smile was sincere, but fleeting. She was used
to sizing up people quickly, a necessity in protection work. She was, after
all, former Secret Service.
Scarne let
Albracht take the lead. He was her boss.
“Karen, Mr.
Scarne is going to help out during the Killerfest. As I told you, Randolph
Shields is adamant on that point. Scarne knows that we have the lead and came
down here to make sure nobody trips over anyone else. I copied you on our
report about him, so you know it’s not his first rodeo.”
Scarne wasn’t
surprised that Safeguard had checked him out. These were careful people. But he
never liked finding out someone had opened another file on him. He mentally
shrugged. Google, Yahoo, Facebook and a score of marketing companies probably
had more on him than than Ian Fleming’s SMERSH had on James Bond.
“Have you put
together your team yet,” Scarne asked.
“No. I”ll
probably draw a couple of agents from the group working at Quimper’s home in
Greenwich and bring two with me from here. The Greenwich people will get him to
the hotel and then we’ll all be there for the duration.”
“How long will
he be at the conference?”
“He arrives
Saturday and leaves the next day.”
“He’s staying
in Manhattan overnight?”
That was news
to Scarne, who had assumed Quimper would commute from Connecticut, probably by
helicopter.
“Yes. Right at
the Bascombe.” Karen Porcelli’s mouth turned down. “Quimper apparently assumes
he will get lucky with one of his adoring fans. I understand he usually does.
Actually, it works to our advantage. The less time he spends traveling back and
forth the better. I hope he picks someone up right after his last appearance
Saturday and spends all night with her.”
“You could
always arrange for that to happen,” Scarne said.
“What do you
mean,” Albracht said.
“He means we
could
Albracht held
up his hand.
“You’re
preaching to the choir, my friend. I personally will take all the help I can
get on this one. Sebastian can be a royal pain in the ass. He wants to be safe,
but he also wants freedom of action where the ladies are concerned. There will
apparently be good hunting at the conference in that regard, with all the
literary agents and wannabee writers who want to, how shall I put it, suck up
to him. We’ve done this before with him, although not with such a threat
hanging over his head.”
“Do you think
it’s credible.”
“Somebody killed
Arhaut.”
“How many
people on your side?”
“In addition
to a team leader, five.”
“That’s you?”
“No. Desk duty
on this one. We decided to go with a woman. Thought she might blend in better,
since the majority of attendees are women. You’ll meet her in a minute. She’s
former Secret Service, like me. Recruited her myself. I have to warn you she
may have a bit of a chip on her shoulder about you, since you are someone who
doesn’t have to report to her. But she’s a pro. I don’t envision any major
problems.”
Scarne
reserved judgment on that.
“The basic
problem we have is that Quimper wants us to be unnoticeable. Says he can’t ‘be
himself’ with armed guards hovering around him. What he means is that he can’t
run a line of bullshit on some literary groupie in a crowd.”
There was
knock on the door jamb. Both men stood as a woman walked into Albracht’s
office.
“You wanted to
see me, Bill,” she said.
“Yes. Karen,
this is Jake Scarne, the man I told you about. Jake, Karen Porcelli will be
heading up our security for the Killerfest.”
Scarne and the
woman shook hands. Her handshake was a bit too firm; she was overcompensating
for being a woman in what is still a predominantly male business. A
sharp-featured woman in her mid 30’s, more handsome than traditionally beautiful,
she was dressed for business and wearing little makeup. If she wanted to be
beautiful, Scarne assumed, she could easily arrange that, and, when the
occasion arose, probably did. Her smile was sincere, but fleeting. She was used
to sizing up people quickly, a necessity in protection work. She was, after
all, former Secret Service.
Scarne let
Albracht take the lead. He was her boss.
“Karen, Mr.
Scarne is going to help out during the Killerfest. As I told you, Randolph
Shields is adamant on that point. Scarne knows that we have the lead and came
down here to make sure nobody trips over anyone else. I copied you on our
report about him, so you know it’s not his first rodeo.”
Scarne wasn’t
surprised that Safeguard had checked him out. These were careful people. But he
never liked finding out someone had opened another file on him. He mentally
shrugged. Google, Yahoo, Facebook and a score of marketing companies probably
had more on him than than Ian Fleming’s SMERSH had on James Bond.
“Have you put
together your team yet,” Scarne asked.
“No. I”ll
probably draw a couple of agents from the group working at Quimper’s home in
Greenwich and bring two with me from here. The Greenwich people will get him to
the hotel and then we’ll all be there for the duration.”
“How long will
he be at the conference?”
“He arrives
Saturday and leaves the next day.”
“He’s staying
in Manhattan overnight?”
That was news
to Scarne, who had assumed Quimper would commute from Connecticut, probably by
helicopter.
“Yes. Right at
the Bascombe.” Karen Porcelli’s mouth turned down. “Quimper apparently assumes
he will get lucky with one of his adoring fans. I understand he usually does.
Actually, it works to our advantage. The less time he spends traveling back and
forth the better. I hope he picks someone up right after his last appearance
Saturday and spends all night with her.”
“You could
always arrange for that to happen,” Scarne said.
“What do you
mean,” Albracht said.
“He means we
could
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