looked from Billie to me then back to her boss, but I hadn’t time for them. I took it that Billie hadn’t mentioned I was coming. She could explain everything while I was gone. I walked away, lugging my pretend purchases, and as I did so I pulled out one of the handguns supplied to me by Brandon Cooper and concealed it behind the bag, holding it tight alongside my thigh.
Billie followed. She flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed’. I gave her one last reassuring nod, then went outside, and heard her throwing bolts. Immediately Hilary began asking questions, but I didn’t linger. I headed across the road to where I’d parked my rental car and got in, placing my SIG on the passenger seat and placing my faux purchases on top of it, then pulled out and drove north: I had to make things look as natural as possible. I’d spotted Smelly Man leaning against a street lamp at the intersection only a hundred yards or so ahead.
8
‘So they aren’t your guys, Cooper?’
‘No. I can assure you that there are no ATF agents in Hill End.’
‘Is yours the only law enforcement agency looking into this case?’
‘As far as I know.’
‘I could do with confirmation on that: wouldn’t like to hurt a cop or federal agent by accident.’
Cooper was somewhere noisy. I could hear a babble of voices, the thrum of traffic, sirens. He definitely wasn’t in sleepy Hill End; probably he was still in Seattle. I’d turned my rental car around and come back the opposite way, parking between a Toyota and a delivery truck that was being offloaded at a convenience store. From my vantage, I could see Smelly Man lounging against the street lamp, but didn’t have eyes on his partner, if indeed he was still out there. I kept viewing my mirrors as I spoke to Brandon Cooper on my cell, in case the suited man was more counter-surveillance-savvy than his pal and was checking me out. If he was out there, he must be further along the street to the south of Billie’s gallery, or maybe inside one of the adjacent properties.
‘I’ll do some digging and get back to you,’ Cooper went on. ‘Hunter . . . I think it’s best that you do nothing until I can check things out.’
‘You didn’t bring me in because I’m the type to sit on my thumbs.’
‘OK. I’ll rephrase that. Don’t kill anyone until I can check things out.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to shoot someone simply for having poor hygiene.’
Cooper had no idea what I was referring to, and I made him no wiser. He hung up and I placed the phone on the seat alongside the other items. Easier to get at when required as was my SIG. Not that I anticipated shooting anyone. Not yet. But I had the sense that the gun might prove an important motivator before long.
Even without Cooper confirming it, I didn’t believe that Smelly Man or his partner were federal agents. Neither could I be certain that they had anything to do with Procrylon Inc., but whom else could they be working for? Even if their earlier visits to the gallery had been misconstrued and they were simply star-struck art fanciers it didn’t explain why they were still hanging around hours later. They were surveilling the gallery, no question about it. The obvious conclusion was that either they were waiting to get a chance to corner Billie alone, or they were waiting for someone else to show up. Before I’d arrived, and while Hilary had done the coffee and doughnuts run, they could have caught Billie on her own, so my bet was on the second idea. They were watching for Richard Womack. It was possible that they meant no harm to Billie and that their earlier perusals had simply been to confirm that she was in the shop, or that she hadn’t smuggled Richard inside by some clandestine means. How long would they remain patient? They didn’t strike me as the most professional, particularly the smelly one – getting so close to their target while stinking as bad was an amateur’s mistake; it made him
Billie followed. She flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed’. I gave her one last reassuring nod, then went outside, and heard her throwing bolts. Immediately Hilary began asking questions, but I didn’t linger. I headed across the road to where I’d parked my rental car and got in, placing my SIG on the passenger seat and placing my faux purchases on top of it, then pulled out and drove north: I had to make things look as natural as possible. I’d spotted Smelly Man leaning against a street lamp at the intersection only a hundred yards or so ahead.
8
‘So they aren’t your guys, Cooper?’
‘No. I can assure you that there are no ATF agents in Hill End.’
‘Is yours the only law enforcement agency looking into this case?’
‘As far as I know.’
‘I could do with confirmation on that: wouldn’t like to hurt a cop or federal agent by accident.’
Cooper was somewhere noisy. I could hear a babble of voices, the thrum of traffic, sirens. He definitely wasn’t in sleepy Hill End; probably he was still in Seattle. I’d turned my rental car around and come back the opposite way, parking between a Toyota and a delivery truck that was being offloaded at a convenience store. From my vantage, I could see Smelly Man lounging against the street lamp, but didn’t have eyes on his partner, if indeed he was still out there. I kept viewing my mirrors as I spoke to Brandon Cooper on my cell, in case the suited man was more counter-surveillance-savvy than his pal and was checking me out. If he was out there, he must be further along the street to the south of Billie’s gallery, or maybe inside one of the adjacent properties.
‘I’ll do some digging and get back to you,’ Cooper went on. ‘Hunter . . . I think it’s best that you do nothing until I can check things out.’
‘You didn’t bring me in because I’m the type to sit on my thumbs.’
‘OK. I’ll rephrase that. Don’t kill anyone until I can check things out.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to shoot someone simply for having poor hygiene.’
Cooper had no idea what I was referring to, and I made him no wiser. He hung up and I placed the phone on the seat alongside the other items. Easier to get at when required as was my SIG. Not that I anticipated shooting anyone. Not yet. But I had the sense that the gun might prove an important motivator before long.
Even without Cooper confirming it, I didn’t believe that Smelly Man or his partner were federal agents. Neither could I be certain that they had anything to do with Procrylon Inc., but whom else could they be working for? Even if their earlier visits to the gallery had been misconstrued and they were simply star-struck art fanciers it didn’t explain why they were still hanging around hours later. They were surveilling the gallery, no question about it. The obvious conclusion was that either they were waiting to get a chance to corner Billie alone, or they were waiting for someone else to show up. Before I’d arrived, and while Hilary had done the coffee and doughnuts run, they could have caught Billie on her own, so my bet was on the second idea. They were watching for Richard Womack. It was possible that they meant no harm to Billie and that their earlier perusals had simply been to confirm that she was in the shop, or that she hadn’t smuggled Richard inside by some clandestine means. How long would they remain patient? They didn’t strike me as the most professional, particularly the smelly one – getting so close to their target while stinking as bad was an amateur’s mistake; it made him
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