Dirt

hour?”
    Stone looked at Arrington, sitting cross-legged, naked, in his bed. “Make it an hour,” he said.
     
     
    Bob Cantor had been in the house for two hours when he came down to Stone’s office.
    “Come in, and have a seat.”
    He closed the door behind him.
    “Well?”
    “Somebody’s very interested in you,” Cantor said.
    Stone sat up. “How interested?”
    “The whole house; top to bottom. Phone lines, too, but not the offices.”
    “Jesus Christ.”
    “I don’t think He needs to use a wire.”
    “Bedroom?”
    “Yep.”
    “Shit.”
    “You want me to yank everything?”
    Stone thought for a moment. “Can you disable it in a way that will make them think it’s just broken?”
    Cantor nodded. “I can create enough static to make them think it’s their fault.”
    “Good, do that.”
    “Okay.”
    “How long?”
    “Half an hour.”
     
     
    Shortly, Cantor was back. “It’s done. You may hear some static on the phone lines, but it’ll be manageable. I left the fax machine alone; static there would give you garbled transmissions.” “Fine.” Stone handed him a sheet of paper and two envelopes. “These are the other two addresses, and I’ve written a letter to each woman, telling them what you’re going to do.” “If I find something, you want me to do the same thing to it? I mean, whoever’s bugging you might think something’s up if all three systems go down.”
    “Good point. Do the same work on Ms. Dart’s offices and apartment, but leave the Potts place up and running. Then call me.”
    “One thing,” Cantor said.
    “What’s that?”
    “You got a very nice burglar alarm system in the house; you ever use it?”
    “When I go away.”
    “Start using it all the time. I mean, now that the wire on your place isn’t working right, they might come back to fix it.”
    “I hadn’t thought of that,” Stone said.
     
Chapter 29
     
    Amanda got to Stone first. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded. “This man of yours says there are bugs all over my offices.”
    “What’s going on, Amanda, is that there are bugs all over your offices. That’s where your leak is, or at least part of it.”
    “Well, I told him to yank them all out.”
    Stone groaned. “I told him to create static, but leave them in place. Now whoever planted the bugs is going to know you know.”
    “That’s just fine with me,” she said. “I want the bastard to know.”
    “Amanda, you got the surveillance reports on your people, the ones I sent you?”
    “Yes, and they both look innocent enough to me.”
    “To me, too; that leaves Martha.”
    “Stone, I’ve told you, it
couldn’t
be Martha.”
    “We’re running out of suspects; there’s only the maid and Martha. I want your permission to check out both of them. Oh, and the chauffeur, too.”
    “I
hate
paying for work that I know will turn up nothing.”
    “That’s understandable, but anytime you investigate a group of people, you have to investigate them
all
. That’s the only way it will work. So, have I your permission to investigate these three people?” “Oh, all right, but for God’s sake, don’t let any of them know. It would be so embarrassing for me if they found out.”
    “Not as embarrassing as what
DIRT
is publishing.”
    “You have a point. Do it.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Her voice changed, became lower. “I thought you were going to call me for a get-together.”
    Better bite the bullet, Stone thought. “I’m sorry, Amanda, but I have to be frank with you. I’m seeing somebody, and she’s taking all my … attention.”
    “Shit,” Amanda said, and hung up.
     
     
    Tiffany was next.
    “I’m calling from a pay phone,” she said.
    “Good girl.”
    “That Bob says that
somebody
can hear every word that’s spoken in my apartment or on my phone, and that he’s not fixing it.”
    “If we fix it, Tiff, whoever is listening will know that you know.”
    “Stone, you told me to find a boyfriend, so I did. Now when I bring him home, somebody’s going to hear us in bed.”
    “You’re an actress; think of it as a performance.”
    She was quiet for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said finally. “Come to think of it, that could be a turn-on.”
    “Whatever works for you, Tiff.”
    “I wish there was a way I could turn the bug off for a few minutes at a time, though.”
    “Does the boyfriend have a home?”
    “Yeah, but it’s way down in the Village.”
    “The Village is charming; a