Read Online The Loves of Harry Dancer by Lawrence Sanders - Free Book Online
Authors: Lawrence Sanders
Ads: Link
sir. Get on it right away.”
The comptroller scuttles off. The Chairman rereads the printout on Harry Dancer. Interesting case. Makes him recall his career as field agent, case officer, and the Department’s chief executive officer. Before he rose to his present preeminent position.
There are a few things he might do differently. But generally, he feels, the Regional Director is running a good chase. Eliminating Jeremy Blaine apparently closed the leak. Turning Herman K. Tischman was a real coup. And Sally Abaddon has never failed. Plus Briscoe.
Still, the Chairman is troubled. Something is not quite kosher. He knows that fussy little Chief of Operations in Corporation headquarters. He has fought him before. Knows how dangerous it would be to underestimate him.
He goes back to the printout again. Studies the moves. Countermoves.
The Chairman is a grossly obese man. Sitting in a thronelike chair reinforced with steel braces. He moves as little as possible. He requires assistance to stand up. But no fat around his brain. That is lean, hard, precise.
He beckons the floor supervisor again.
“Nick,” he says, “I want to speak to the Director of the Southeast Region. Set it up.”
Five minutes later the phone is brought to him.
“The Regional Director is on the line, sir,” Nick says.
“Scrambled?”
“Of course, sir.”
The Chairman waits until Nick is out of earshot. He trusts no one.
“Director?” he says.
“Here, sir,” a tinny voice, scrambled and unscrambled, comes back.
“What did we eat the last time we met?”
“Broiled quail, sir.”
“Good,” the Chairman says. Fat face creasing with pleasure. “I just wanted to be certain I am not talking to an imposter.”
“Very wise, sir.”
“Director, you are over budget.”
“I am aware of that, sir. I believe the importance of the Dancer operation justifies it.”
“I agree. But try to keep your expenditures as modest as possible. You’re convinced that the elimination of Jeremy Blaine plugged your leak?”
“I am, Chairman.”
“I am not. Humor an old man, Director, but I’ve been around a long time. I have a feeling we’ve been blindsided. I want you to try another ploy. Who knows that the Corporation’s private detective has been turned?”
“Tischman? Only Briscoe and I know about that, sir.”
“Good. I want you to inform all personnel with knowledge of the Dancer operation that Tischman has been turned. Let’s see what happens.”
Silence.
“Director? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, sir. You feel we may still have a leak?”
“I believe it’s possible.”
“Very well, sir. I’ll do as you suggest.”
“Not suggest, Director. Order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And watch those expenses,” the Chairman says. “Your only justification will be success.”
The Regional Director knows a threat when he hears one.
“I understand, sir,” he says.
19
“I don’t like that Briscoe,” Sally Abaddon says. “He’s a sod.”
“Well…yeah,” Shelby Yama says. “He’s a heavy. But that’s his job. And he’s good at it.”
“I don’t like the way he looks at me. Keep him away from me, Shel.”
“I’ll try, baby. But the guy swings a lot of weight. He and the Director are buddy-buddy. To tell you the truth, I don’t like the way he looks at me. I guess it’s just his style; he’s suspicious of everyone.”
“You think he’s working for Internal Security?”
“Could be. But we’ve got nothing to worry about, have we?”
Sally Abaddon has something to worry about. But unless Briscoe is a mind reader, he’s never going to find out.
They’re in Sally’s motel room. Yama is helping her dress for an evening with Harry Dancer.
Her first date with him had been a disaster. She had worn a short, slinky shift of blue-green sequins. Cut low. Pumps with hooker heels. Long blond hair tousled about her shoulders. Thick makeup. She had seen in his eyes that it was all a mistake. After dinner, he
The comptroller scuttles off. The Chairman rereads the printout on Harry Dancer. Interesting case. Makes him recall his career as field agent, case officer, and the Department’s chief executive officer. Before he rose to his present preeminent position.
There are a few things he might do differently. But generally, he feels, the Regional Director is running a good chase. Eliminating Jeremy Blaine apparently closed the leak. Turning Herman K. Tischman was a real coup. And Sally Abaddon has never failed. Plus Briscoe.
Still, the Chairman is troubled. Something is not quite kosher. He knows that fussy little Chief of Operations in Corporation headquarters. He has fought him before. Knows how dangerous it would be to underestimate him.
He goes back to the printout again. Studies the moves. Countermoves.
The Chairman is a grossly obese man. Sitting in a thronelike chair reinforced with steel braces. He moves as little as possible. He requires assistance to stand up. But no fat around his brain. That is lean, hard, precise.
He beckons the floor supervisor again.
“Nick,” he says, “I want to speak to the Director of the Southeast Region. Set it up.”
Five minutes later the phone is brought to him.
“The Regional Director is on the line, sir,” Nick says.
“Scrambled?”
“Of course, sir.”
The Chairman waits until Nick is out of earshot. He trusts no one.
“Director?” he says.
“Here, sir,” a tinny voice, scrambled and unscrambled, comes back.
“What did we eat the last time we met?”
“Broiled quail, sir.”
“Good,” the Chairman says. Fat face creasing with pleasure. “I just wanted to be certain I am not talking to an imposter.”
“Very wise, sir.”
“Director, you are over budget.”
“I am aware of that, sir. I believe the importance of the Dancer operation justifies it.”
“I agree. But try to keep your expenditures as modest as possible. You’re convinced that the elimination of Jeremy Blaine plugged your leak?”
“I am, Chairman.”
“I am not. Humor an old man, Director, but I’ve been around a long time. I have a feeling we’ve been blindsided. I want you to try another ploy. Who knows that the Corporation’s private detective has been turned?”
“Tischman? Only Briscoe and I know about that, sir.”
“Good. I want you to inform all personnel with knowledge of the Dancer operation that Tischman has been turned. Let’s see what happens.”
Silence.
“Director? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, sir. You feel we may still have a leak?”
“I believe it’s possible.”
“Very well, sir. I’ll do as you suggest.”
“Not suggest, Director. Order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And watch those expenses,” the Chairman says. “Your only justification will be success.”
The Regional Director knows a threat when he hears one.
“I understand, sir,” he says.
19
“I don’t like that Briscoe,” Sally Abaddon says. “He’s a sod.”
“Well…yeah,” Shelby Yama says. “He’s a heavy. But that’s his job. And he’s good at it.”
“I don’t like the way he looks at me. Keep him away from me, Shel.”
“I’ll try, baby. But the guy swings a lot of weight. He and the Director are buddy-buddy. To tell you the truth, I don’t like the way he looks at me. I guess it’s just his style; he’s suspicious of everyone.”
“You think he’s working for Internal Security?”
“Could be. But we’ve got nothing to worry about, have we?”
Sally Abaddon has something to worry about. But unless Briscoe is a mind reader, he’s never going to find out.
They’re in Sally’s motel room. Yama is helping her dress for an evening with Harry Dancer.
Her first date with him had been a disaster. She had worn a short, slinky shift of blue-green sequins. Cut low. Pumps with hooker heels. Long blond hair tousled about her shoulders. Thick makeup. She had seen in his eyes that it was all a mistake. After dinner, he
Similar Books
