Dirt

some piece of work. He’s done the phones again.”
    “Jesus.”
    “I guess while you were napping the other evening, he calmly went about his business. It’s just the phones, though; I didn’t find anything else.”
    “Did you screw up his work?”
    Cantor held up a handful of wires and devices. “I yanked it. No need to be subtle anymore.”
    “You had any luck with this guy in the bar who has the signature with the wires?”
    “I almost forgot; I talked to him for half an hour last night; the signature is something he was trained to do.”
    “Who taught him?”
    “A federal agency, is all I could get out of him; he denied that it was the CIA. Maybe the National Security Agency.”
    Stone shook his head. “Aren’t they more into the wireless sort of surveillance?”
    “Yeah. It could be some group we don’t know about — maybe even something illegal.”
    “Do you really think that sort of stuff still goes on?”
    Cantor shrugged. “Who knows? There are a lot of guys on the street who used to work for somebody in D.C. Maybe he’s that type.”
    “Maybe. Listen, Bob, there’s something else.”
    “Shoot.”
    “How good are you on your feet?”
    “I’m okay; I used to study karate pretty seriously, and I box once or twice a week at my gym. What is it you need, Stone?”
    “There’s a guy needs talking to, and to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I’m up to it just yet. He’s been harassing a friend of mine, a woman, and I want a stop put to it.”
    “So is this guy muscle, or something?”
    “She says he gets into fights; I have no idea how good he is at it.”
    “What exactly is it that you want done?”
    “I want the fear of God put into him. I’m not talking about leaning hard on him, but if he reacts badly, I don’t want him to come out of it with the upper hand.”
    “You think this guy might be the one wiring all these places?”
    Stone shook his head and pushed a copy of
Vanity Fair
across his desk. “This is the guy; he’s a male model, at least some of the time. The connection’s with this girl, whose name is Arrington; not with the
DIRT
thing.” Cantor looked at the picture. “I can handle it.”
    “There’s something else, something I only just found out.”
    “Yeah?”
    Stone handed him a slip of paper. “His name is Jonathan Dryer; that’s where he lives. Arnie Millman got clipped in the alley next to the building.”
    “You think the two things are connected?”
    “I can’t see how, but I don’t like coincidences. I thought you ought to know about Arnie, though.”
    “Yeah, I’m glad you told me.”
    “If your talk with him turns up anything that makes you think he might be connected with Arnie by more than just geography, then we’ll bring Dino into it.”
    Cantor nodded. “When you want this done?”
    “The sooner the better.”
    “You think he might be at home now?”
    “Only one way to find out.”
    Cantor stood up. “I’ll check him out.”
    “If he’s not there, maybe you could take a look around his place, see what he’s about.”
    “Sure thing.”
    “Give your bill for the other work to Alma, and she’ll cut you a check. What do you want for the Dryer business?”
    “Let’s see how it goes,” Cantor said. “He might be a pushover.”
    “As long as you’re ready for him, if he isn’t.”
    “Don’t worry about me.” Cantor left and closed the door behind him.
     
Chapter 36
     
    Amanda had thought long and hard overnight about what to do, and her first decision, characteristically, was to protect herself. She called her lawyer, Bill Eggers, at home.
    “Morning, Amanda.”
    “Bill, I want to ask you a hypothetical —
very
hypothetical — question.”
    “Shoot.”
    “In the unlikely event that I felt I really had to, could I get out of my contract with Dick Hickock?”
    “
What?
”
    “Now, Bill, I told you this was hypothetical; don’t get upset.”
    “Amanda, you’ve only just signed the contracts; it’s a terrific deal!”
    “Bill, you haven’t answered my question.”
    “The answer is no, not unless Hickock were willing to release you.”
    “Nothing I could do, if I wanted out?”
    “It’s more about what
he
could do. He could prevent any other newspaper or magazine from publishing you. All you could do would be to beg him to let you go. What’s this about, Amanda?” “Bill, this isn’t going to happen; I just like to know where I stand, that’s all.”
    “The only way you could get out would be