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“At a number I gave her.”
“Okay. So the minute you left your office, we can count on your friendly coworker listening to what you and Jennie had to say to each other. We can also count on her reporting that, right then, to the Terrorist Unit. If they had somebody available, you might have been followed to the phone booth. Hell, they might have followed you here.”
“And there’s a microphone in the light fixture?” Susan said, pointing at the ceiling. “And they are listening to everything we’re saying now?”
“I don’t think so. They think I’m on their side. But there’s no telling, really. I should have thought of that. I’m used to planting mikes, not having them planted on me.”
“I was kidding,” Susan said. “You really think they could have a microphone in here?”
“Well, if they do, we’re all going to jail,” Matt said.
“I never know when you’re serious,” Susan said.
“Tell me about poor Jennie,” Matt said. “Softly. The FBI may be listening.”
“She really wants to give me whatever it is she wants me to keep for her.”
“The translation of that is that, to cover his ass, Chenowith wants to get rid of the bank loot,” Matt said. “And what did you tell her?”
“That I would meet her the same place I met her last time,” Susan said.
“The restaurant in Doylestown?” Matt asked. Susan nodded. “When?”
“I told her I couldn’t take off from work without questions being asked,” Susan said. “I told her I’d try to get there by seven.”
“Speaking of work, you’re on your lunch hour, right?”
She shook her head, “no.”
“After I talked to Jennie, I didn’t go back to work.”
“Why not?”
“I was afraid to,” Susan said.
“Did something happen? What were you afraid of?”
“I didn’t like the way Veronica was looking at me.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I came here, looking for you, and you weren’t here, so I walked around the block, and came back, and walked around the block. . . . The last time I came in the hotel, I saw you getting on the elevator.”
“By now, Veronica is wondering where the hell you are. You didn’t call up and say you were sick or anything?”
Susan shook her head, “no.”
“Do it now. Tell her you felt dizzy and got sick to your stomach.”
“I don’t work for Veronica. I’d have to call my supervisor.”
“Whoever. Tell whoever that you got sick and felt dizzy, and are going to see your doctor at half past three, and that you’ll probably be in after that.”
“You want me to go back to work?”
“No. But that may stall them a little. They may—just may—decide to wait until after you don’t show up at four, or four-thirty, before deciding that you’ve taken off.”
“What are we going to do about Jennie?”
