Read Online The Spy Who Came for Christmas by David Morrell - Free Book Online
Authors: David Morrell
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folded the other. Then she set the baby down on the first towel and eased its head onto the makeshift pillow of the second.
As she unzipped the baby's blue sleeper, Kagan saw that Cole still hadn't done what he'd asked. Again he urged the boy, "Go into your bedroom. Turn on the television. Go to the window in the living room. See if anybody's watching the house. If they are, fool them the way I told you." "But what if somebody is watching the house?" Cole wondered. His eyes looked large behind his glasses.
"They won't try to get in right away. For one thing, they won't know for sure that I'm here."
"You think somebody's going to break in?" Cole's voice wavered.
Movement made Kagan turn toward Meredith. As she pulled the baby from its sleeper, the infant's legs curled toward its chest, emphasizing its vulnerability. Immediately, it jerked its arms and whimpered.
"They won't try to break in unless they hear crying," Ka- gan said.
"I'm doing the best I can," Meredith snapped. "With only this night-light, it's hard to see."
"No, that's not what I meant," he said in a hurry. "Please, I apologize."
'What?" Meredith looked at him in surprise.
"I guess I sounded disapproving. I didn't intend to. You probably get plenty of disapproval as it is. The baby can't ask for more than your best."
She studied him as if seeing him for the first time. Then the baby's squirming required her attention, and she tugged open the adhesive strips on the diaper.
Cole remained in the kitchen.
I've got to engage him, Kagan thought.
He unclipped the tiny microphone hidden under the ski-lift tickets on his parka. He put it deeply in one of his pants pockets, where the scratch of the smothering fabric would prevent it from transmitting voices. Then he removed his transmitter from under his coat and gave it to the boy.
"What's this?" Cole asked, curiosity mixing with suspicion.
Kagan took out his earbud, cleaned it on his pants, and handed it to him. "They're part of a two-way radio setup. That's the transmitter, and this is the earpiece. The on-off switch is at the top of the transmitter. The volume dial is on one side. The channel dial is on the other. Do you play video games?"
"Of course." Cole seemed puzzled by the question, as if he took it for granted that everyone played video games.
"Then you ought to be good at multitasking. While you watch for movement out the window, I want you to hold the receiver to your ear and listen while you keep changing the frequency on the transmitter. Maybe you'll find the channel the men outside are using. Maybe we can hear what they're planning."
Cole studied the objects in his hands.
"Make it seem like you're listening to an iPod," Kagan told him.
"Right. An iPod." The boy examined the equipment and nodded. "I can do that." He mustered his courage and limped into the living room.
Throughout their conversation, Kagan sensed that Meredith was watching him.
Then the baby squirmed, and she removed the diaper.
'A boy," she murmured. "He doesn't look more than four or five weeks old."
"Five weeks. Good guess," Kagan said. "If he'd waited a little longer, he'd have been a Christmas present."
Meredith dropped the diaper in a trash can under the sink.
"I forgot how tiny a baby is. Look. He has a birthmark on his left heel. It sort of reminds me of a rose."
"The child of peace."
"What?"
Kagan realized he'd said too much. "Isn't that what babies mean this time of year? Like the Christmas carol says, 'Peace on Earth, goodwill to men.' It's sexist, I suppose, but the sentiment still works."
Again Meredith studied him. Then she returned her attention to the baby.
"He isn't Anglo."
'Anglo?" Kagan asked.
'What the locals call 'white.' But he doesn't look Hispanic or Native American, either. His skin is like cinnamon. He looks--"
"Middle Eastern." Kagan stood and wavered. Managing to steady himself, he went to the kitchen sink and peered cautiously past the curtain on the window.
"I don't have any
As she unzipped the baby's blue sleeper, Kagan saw that Cole still hadn't done what he'd asked. Again he urged the boy, "Go into your bedroom. Turn on the television. Go to the window in the living room. See if anybody's watching the house. If they are, fool them the way I told you." "But what if somebody is watching the house?" Cole wondered. His eyes looked large behind his glasses.
"They won't try to get in right away. For one thing, they won't know for sure that I'm here."
"You think somebody's going to break in?" Cole's voice wavered.
Movement made Kagan turn toward Meredith. As she pulled the baby from its sleeper, the infant's legs curled toward its chest, emphasizing its vulnerability. Immediately, it jerked its arms and whimpered.
"They won't try to break in unless they hear crying," Ka- gan said.
"I'm doing the best I can," Meredith snapped. "With only this night-light, it's hard to see."
"No, that's not what I meant," he said in a hurry. "Please, I apologize."
'What?" Meredith looked at him in surprise.
"I guess I sounded disapproving. I didn't intend to. You probably get plenty of disapproval as it is. The baby can't ask for more than your best."
She studied him as if seeing him for the first time. Then the baby's squirming required her attention, and she tugged open the adhesive strips on the diaper.
Cole remained in the kitchen.
I've got to engage him, Kagan thought.
He unclipped the tiny microphone hidden under the ski-lift tickets on his parka. He put it deeply in one of his pants pockets, where the scratch of the smothering fabric would prevent it from transmitting voices. Then he removed his transmitter from under his coat and gave it to the boy.
"What's this?" Cole asked, curiosity mixing with suspicion.
Kagan took out his earbud, cleaned it on his pants, and handed it to him. "They're part of a two-way radio setup. That's the transmitter, and this is the earpiece. The on-off switch is at the top of the transmitter. The volume dial is on one side. The channel dial is on the other. Do you play video games?"
"Of course." Cole seemed puzzled by the question, as if he took it for granted that everyone played video games.
"Then you ought to be good at multitasking. While you watch for movement out the window, I want you to hold the receiver to your ear and listen while you keep changing the frequency on the transmitter. Maybe you'll find the channel the men outside are using. Maybe we can hear what they're planning."
Cole studied the objects in his hands.
"Make it seem like you're listening to an iPod," Kagan told him.
"Right. An iPod." The boy examined the equipment and nodded. "I can do that." He mustered his courage and limped into the living room.
Throughout their conversation, Kagan sensed that Meredith was watching him.
Then the baby squirmed, and she removed the diaper.
'A boy," she murmured. "He doesn't look more than four or five weeks old."
"Five weeks. Good guess," Kagan said. "If he'd waited a little longer, he'd have been a Christmas present."
Meredith dropped the diaper in a trash can under the sink.
"I forgot how tiny a baby is. Look. He has a birthmark on his left heel. It sort of reminds me of a rose."
"The child of peace."
"What?"
Kagan realized he'd said too much. "Isn't that what babies mean this time of year? Like the Christmas carol says, 'Peace on Earth, goodwill to men.' It's sexist, I suppose, but the sentiment still works."
Again Meredith studied him. Then she returned her attention to the baby.
"He isn't Anglo."
'Anglo?" Kagan asked.
'What the locals call 'white.' But he doesn't look Hispanic or Native American, either. His skin is like cinnamon. He looks--"
"Middle Eastern." Kagan stood and wavered. Managing to steady himself, he went to the kitchen sink and peered cautiously past the curtain on the window.
"I don't have any
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