Mr. Murder

infuriatingly. He framed imaginary headlines with his hands,"
        "Best selling Author Shoots Intruder.
        Hoax or Real Threat? Author and Family Missing. Hiding from Killer or Avoiding Police Scrutiny?" That sort of thing. When Stillwater sees a newspaper or TV news program, he's going to call his parents right then because he'll know they've seen the news and they're worried."
        "We've tapped their phone?"
        "Yes. We have caller-ID equipment on the line. The moment the connection is made, we'll have a number where Stillwater's staying."
        "What do we do in the meantime?" Oslett asked. "Just sit around here having manicures, eating strawberries?"
        At the rate Clocker was eating strawberries, the hotel supply would be gone shortly, and soon thereafter the entire hot-house crop in California and adjacent states would also be exhausted.
        Waxhill looked at his gold Rolex.
        Drew Oslett tried to detect some indication of ostentation in the way Waxhill consulted the expensive timepiece. He would have been pleased to note any revelatory action that might expose a gauche pretender under the veneer of grace and sophistication.
        But Waxhill seemed to regard the wristwatch as Oslett did his own gold Rolex, as though it was no different from a Timer purchased at K-Mart.
        "In fact, you'll be flying up to Mammoth Lakes later this morning."
        "But we can't be certain Stillwater's going to show up there."
        "It's a reasonable expectation," Waxhill said. "If he does, then there's a good chance Alfie will follow. You'll be in position to collect our boy. And if Stillwater doesn't go there, just calls his dear mater and pater, you can fly out or drive out at once to wherever he called from.
        Reluctant to sit a moment longer, for fear that Waxhill would use the time to deliver more bad news, Oslett put his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back. "Then let's get moving. The longer our boy's on the loose, the greater the chance someone's going to see him and Stillwater at the same time. When that happens, the police are going to start believing his story."
        Remaining in his chair, picking up his coffee cup, Waxhill said?
        "One more thing."
        Oslett had risen. He was loath to sit again because it would appear as if Waxhill controlled the moment. Waxhill did control the moment, in fact, but only because he possessed needed information, not because he was Oslett's superior in rank or in any other sense.
        At worst, they held equal power in the organization, and more likely, Oslett was the heavyweight of the two. He remained standing beside the table, gazing down at the Yale man.
        Although he was finally finished eating, Clocker stayed in his chair.
        Oslett didn't know whether his partner's behavior was a minor betrayal or only evidence that the Trekker's mind was off with Spock and the gang in some distant corner of the universe.
        After a sip of coffee, Waxhill said, "If you have to terminate our boy, that's regrettable but acceptable. If you can bring him back into the fold, at least until he can be gotten into a secure facility and restrained, even better. However it goes… Stillwater, his wife, and his kids have to be eliminated."
        "No problem."
        The branch manager, Mrs. Takuda, visited Marty while he waited at the teller's window, shortly after the dark wave slammed into him and washed away. If he had been confronted by his reflection, he would have expected to see that he was still tight-lipped and pale, with an animal wildness in his eyes, however, if Mrs. Takuda noticed anything strange in his appearance, she was too polite to mention it.
        Primarily she was concerned that he might be withdrawing the majority of his savings because something about the bank displeased him.
        He was surprised he could summon a convincing smile and enough charm to assure her that he had no quarrel with the bank and to set her mind at rest. He was chilled and shaking deep inside, but none of the tremors reached the surface or affected his voice.
        When Mrs. Takuda went to assist Elaine Higgens in the vault, Marty looked at Paige and the kids, the east door, the south door, and his Timer. The sight of the red sweep hand cleaning the seconds off i i the dial made sweat break out on his brow. The Other was coming.
        How long? Ten minutes, two minutes, five