All Night Long

wasn’t for her. Later she told me tha he had found a good use for the book.”
    “What was that?”
    Irene put the novel down on the table, flipped past the title page with its inscription, and turned t hapter Two.
    The rest of the pages following that chapter had been neatly glued together to form a solid block of paper. The center section had been hollowed out to create a small opening that was concealed when the book was closed. Inside was a small key chain sized object.
    “A convenient container in which to carry a supply of drugs, cigarettes or spare condoms,” Irene said. “Pamela said every girl should have one.”
    Tess raised her brows. “You learned a lot from her.”
    Irene wrinkled her nose. “I was such a complete dork. We had zilch in common. I never did understand why she wanted to hang around me that summer.”

    Tess looked at the object she had removed from the book. “What’s up with the key chain?”
    “It’s not a key chain.” Irene pulled her laptop closer. “It’s a computer data storage device.”
    “Any idea what’s on it?”
    “No,” Irene said. “But I’ve got a hunch it’s going to be very unpleasant.”

Forty
    Luke cruised slowly past Hoyt Egan’s apartment building, turned the corner and drove two more blocks. He found a space for the SUV on a street where three or four other similar vehicles were parked. Satisfied that his ride didn’t stand out in the crowd, he switched off the engine and tried Egan’s cell phone and landline one more time. Still no answer.
    He reached into the plastic sack and pulled out the cap and windbreaker that Tanaka had supplied. Both articles of clothing bore the logo of a familiar delivery company.
    There was an outside possibility that Egan was home and not answering his phone for one reason or another. But the odds were good that a busy senator’s aide would not ignore his phones.
    Luke picked up the empty box he had brought along and got out of the SUV .
    The decision to try to take a look at Egan’s apartment had formulated at the back of his mind durin he drive from Dunsley. Now that there was an indication that Egan was engaged in blackmail, it seemed like an especially good idea. He had no hard evidence on Egan, he reminded himself, as he walked back toward the apartment complex, just that old familiar feeling deep in his gut.
    Adrenaline spiked.
    There was no one around when he reached the locked gate at the entrance of the complex, but he

    dialed Egan’s number on the entry phone system just in case. When he got no answer, he gave it a few seconds and then palmed the master key and opened the gate, making it look as though he had been buzzed in by a resident.
    He went into the lobby, box under one arm, and climbed the stairs to the floor where Egan’s apartment was located.
    He stepped out into an empty hallway, went down the corridor and knocked gently on Egan’s door.
    When no one responded, he automatically tried the door before inserting the duplicate master key.
    The knob twisted easily in his hand.
    Another jolt of adrenaline shot through him. Guys like Egan, guys with heavy responsibilities and lot f important senatorial secrets probably didn’t forget to lock their doors when they left their apartments.
    He opened the door. The stench that wafted out of the room brought back memories and nightmares.
    He didn’t need the sight of Egan’s body lying facedown on the blood-soaked carpet to know that death had arrived here first.

Forty-One
    The message on the computer screen chilled Irene to the bone. She could almost hear Pamela’s voic n the words that she and Tess were reading.
    If you found these files, Irene, then it looks like Plan A failed. This is Plan B. By
[_the way, if _]
    you’re not Irene, screw you. The rest of these files are seriously encrypted and will
[_automatically be fatally scrambled if the wrong code is used. _]
    Irene, if this is you, you know the magic words. Here’s the big clue: You are the
only person on the planet other than me who knows them. Eternal secrecy,
[_remember? _]

    “Think she’s telling the truth about the files being destroyed if I use the wrong words?” Irene asked.
    Tess studied the screen with a worried expression. “Depends on what kind of encryption program she used, I suppose. But Phil says that, even with a good system, it would be next to impossible t ompletely delete all traces of the files.”
    “Probably take a real expert to recover them, though. The