Blood Orchid Page 4

  “Nothing like that, but I don’t want it to happen again.”

  “You got an alarm system?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t been using it.”

  “Why don’t I take a look at it?”

  “The box is in the hall coat closet.”

  Sweat walked into the house, checking the front door lock on the way in. “I could pick that in thirty seconds,” he said, “and if I could, so could somebody else.” He opened the closet door, pushed the clothing aside, and opened the alarm central box. The key was in the lock. “You made it easy for somebody to get in here and yank some wires.”

  “That didn’t happen; anyway, the alarm wasn’t on.”

  Sweat peered into the box. “It did happen. The front door is no longer wired into the system.” He pulled a screwdriver from a vest loaded with tools and worked for a moment. “There, that’ll do it, but if I were you, with a problem like this, I’d beef up the system. You’re only covering what looks like the exterior doors and the downstairs windows. You got any motion detectors?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s take a walk around the house,” Sweat said.

  Holly followed the man as he checked every door, every window in the house, looked in closets, inspected her safes. Sweat led Holly outside to his van. “You don’t have a bad system here, it’s just inadequate. What I propose is to replace all the exterior locks with Swedish units that work magnetically.” He opened the rear door, rummaged in some boxes on shelves inside, and came up with a hefty lock. “They’re very high quality, and hell to get past. Then I’d extend the alarm system to all the windows, and I’d put two motion detectors in—one at the top of the stairs by the kitchen, covering the living room.”

  “What about Daisy?” Holly said, nodding at the dog.

  “I’ll align the motion detectors to start reading at three and a half feet; that’s over Daisy’s head. Something else, I’d rig a video camera at the top of the stairs, attached to a VCR, covering most of the ground floor, and have it triggered by the motion detectors—but only when the alarm system has been activated by you. We’re only talking about another five hundred or so, and if somebody gets in, you’ll have him on tape.”

  “I like that,” Holly said. “How much?”

  Sweat looked at his pad. “A lot of the wiring is already in, so, let’s see. . . You’re talking about four grand, and I’ll give you a police discount of twenty-five percent, so three grand, all in.”

  “Done,” Holly replied. “When can you do the work?”

  “It’ll be complete by the time you get home tonight. I should meet you here and show you how the system is set up.”

  “Okay, the place is yours. I’ll be home at six, and I’ll give you a check then.”

  Sweat gave her a little salute and went to his van.

  Holly went to work.

  She had been working on her personnel files for a couple of hours when the phone rang.

  “It’s Phil Sweat,” he said. “I need you to come out here.”

  “Can we talk about it on the phone?”

  “No.”

  “All right, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  She arrived back at the house to find Sweat running wires up the stairs. “What’s up?”

  Sweat dug into a vest pocket and came up with a small electronic-looking little thing.

  “What’s that?”

  “I thought I’d have a look at your phone system. I found this in the main box around the side of the house.”

  “What is it, Phil?”

  “It’s a pretty sophisticated bug. It was attached to the main phone line, so somebody could hear you on any extension, and run to a VHF transmitter under the eaves. VHF is line of sight, so with the transmitter up high like that, it would have a range of, oh, I don’t know, maybe six to ten miles.”

  “Somebody tapped my phone?” Holly said, half to herself.

  “Yep. Question is, what do you want to do about it?”

  “Rip it out.”

  “I can do that, but they might just come back and do it again, and better, so that it would be harder to find. On the other hand, if you leave the bug in, you can decide what they hear. I should point out that every phone in your house is a transmitter, whether it’s being used or not.”

  Holly thought for a minute. “Rip it out.”

  “Okay, but if I were you, I’d watch what I say; you’d never know when it’s back in. I mean, I could come over here a couple of times a week and sweep the place.”

  Holly thought some more. “Okay, leave it in, but can you fix it so it doesn’t work very well?”

  “I could probably arrange for it to work intermittently, so that a listener would only hear some of what’s said. That way, he’d think it was his fault.”

  “Good idea. If he wanted to come back, would he be able to breach the system?”

  “The way I’m rigging it, he would have to be really, really good, and he’d need a lot of time—several hours—to figure out how to get in. But it could be breached—any system can be breached, eventually.”

  “Right now, the alarm system calls a security company.”

  “Yeah, I know them. They don’t have any cars, they’d just call the police.”

  “Reset it to call the police station, with a message that the chief’s house has been entered.”

  “Good idea; cut out the middleman. You can stop paying the monthly fee, too; I’ll come and check it out periodically.”

  “Good.”

  Sweat dug into his trousers pocket and came up with a bunch of keys. “Here are your keys; the locks are already in. All the locks are keyed together, and I’ve changed the lock on the security box to one of these, too. I’d keep a key in your pocket, one at the office, and I’d hide one somewhere around the house that isn’t obvious, because if you’re locked out and you can’t get ahold of me, you’re not going to be able to get in without breaking a window and setting off the alarm.”

  “Okay.”

  “By the way, do you want a silent alarm, or one connected to a horn, the way it is now?”

  Holly thought about that. “Can you really have it call the station house?”

  “Yes, and for a few bucks more, I can have it give a message as to which part of the house has been breached.”

  “Good, I like that. I mean, Daisy is an excellent watchdog, but it’s conceivable that, with the bedroom door closed, she might not hear someone enter downstairs.”

  “I’ll go reconnect the bug,” Sweat said.

  Holly thought she’d sleep with a gun on the bedside table from now on.

  9

  Holly went back to her office, wondering what the hell was going on; then she had a thought. She walked around to Hurd Wallace’s office and beckoned him out into the hall.

  “Did you talk to Phil Sweat?” he asked.

  “Yes, he’s out there working on a new security system for me right now, and he’s discovered a bug on my telephones.”

  Hurd’s eyebrows went up. “No kidding?”

  “No kidding. Tell me about how the phones went bad yesterday.”

  Hurd thought for a moment. “Everything went dead,” he said, “and before we could even call the phone company, one of their guys walked in and said they were having some problems in the area and it would be fixed shortly. It was.”

  “Call the phone company—on your cellphone, and not near one of our phones—and find out if they have any record of anybody working around here yesterday and fixing our problem.”

  “You think somebody was tapping our phones?”

  “I want to find out.”

  Hurd nodded, took his cellphone off his belt, and walked out the back door. Holly returned to her office and tried to work on her personnel files, but she was having trouble keeping her mind on them.

  Hurd came into her office. “The phone company says they did have problems around here yesterday, and they were fixed by a unit already in the neighborhood.”

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sp; “That’s a relief,” Holly said, “but I’m still going to get Phil Sweat to come over here when he’s done at my place and check out our system. You think he could handle that?”

  “Sure. Phil used to work for the state police doing this stuff; he knows his business.”

  Late in the afternoon, Phil Sweat arrived and spent two hours inspecting their office phone system. Finally, he came back to where Holly and Hurd were waiting for him.

  “I think you’re okay,” he said, “especially since the phone company confirms you had a problem. Think about it: It’s one thing to bug your house and have a recorder hooked up that could be checked now and then. It’s something else to bug a police station with forty or fifty phones installed and keep track of what’s being said on them. I mean, it would be a good-sized job for the National Security Agency, and it’s not the sort of thing that some private investigator is going to be able to handle. That’s usually who’s responsible for bugs like the one on your house—somebody’s wife thinks her husband is screwing his secretary, or something like that. Sometimes it might be one business trying to find out about a competitor. The bug at your house was over-the-counter stuff, made of parts you could buy at any electronics supplier. Bugging a police station would require a whole new level of expertise.”

  “Thank’s Phil,” Holly said. She wrote him a check for the work at her house. “Send the department a bill for your time here.”

  “It’s on the house,” Phil said, pocketing Holly’s check. “Now, let’s go back to your place so I can show you what I’ve done and how to run it.”

  Holly followed him back to her house.

  Sweat walked her through the house, reviewed arming and disarming the system with a keypad at each door and one at her bedside. He showed her something that looked like a ceiling light fixture over her stairs. “That’s your video camera. I’ve run it to the TV set in your living room.” He picked up a remote control and switched on the TV. “Now, you press the TV/video button until you come to video three, just the way you would if you were going to watch something on the VCR.” He handed her another, smaller remote control. “Then you use this to run the VCR in the attic that shows you anything the system has taped while you were out. Remember, it only works if the alarm system is activated. You can rewind and fast forward, as with any VCR, and you press this button to rearm the system. If there’s something on a tape you want to keep, you just pull down the stairs to your attic, go up there, and you’ll see the unit on a shelf I installed. Take the tape out, replace it with a blank one, and rearm the system. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Thanks, Phil, I feel a lot better now.”

  “Now that we’ve been through everything, you want me to get the bug working again?”

  “Yes, but intermittently, and then I want it to go out completely.”

  “Then they’ll just come back to see what’s wrong.”

  “That’s what I want them to do. You go hook it up, I’ll make a couple of calls, and right in the middle of one, you can pull the plug.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I’ll talk outside, on the cordless from the living room, so I can signal you.”

  “Okay. I’ll get back on the ladder.”

  Holly waited for him to get into position, then she called Ham.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  “How you doing, baby?”

  “I’m okay, I guess. What have you been up to?”

  “Did a little fishing today.”

  “Fishing’s a lot of fun, Ham, but doesn’t it get old after a while?”

  “Not yet.”

  Holly walked out the door with the cordless phone and looked up at Phil. He gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Ham, I’m worried about you out there with nothing but fishing poles.”

  “Well, don’t you worry, kiddo, because fishing poles ain’t all I got out here. In fact, right at this moment, there’s a lady waiting for me to grill her a steak.”

  Holly looked up at Phil and nodded. “Ham, you be nice to that lady, you hear? Remember, she’s not in the army, and you’re not . . .” Phil drew a finger across his throat. “. . . and you’re not still a sergeant. Bye-bye.”

  “See you, kid.” Ham hung up, and so did Holly.

  Phil climbed down from the ladder. “Got you in mid-sentence,” he said. “What I did was loosen one wire so it would look like an accident when the guy comes back to check on it.”

  “Good work, Phil.”

  “I gotta go. Call me if you have any problems.”

  “Will do.” She watched him get into his van and drive away, then she called the station and got Hurd.

  “Hurd Wallace.”

  “I’m glad you’re still there,” she said. “I want you to pull an officer off the night shift and send him out here with another officer in an unmarked car, then I want the car to leave.”

  “What’s’ up?”

  “I’m going to see if I can’t catch me a phone bugger.”

  “Okay. I’ll send Teddy Wright; he’s a good kid.”

  “Fine.”

  Teddy Wright was the youngest officer on the force and, in many ways, the least experienced, but Holly found him to be bright and willing. “Here’s the story,” she said, and explained what Phil Sweat had found. “I think they’ll send somebody out here to fix it, maybe tonight, and when they do, I want you to apprehend whoever comes.” She showed him where the phone box was, and they found a spot where he could watch it while remaining unobserved.

  Holly made him a sandwich, gave him a canvas chair to sit in, and handed him a thermos of coffee. “Don’t fall asleep, and if the guy shows up, don’t shoot him, understand? I want to talk to him.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Teddy said.

  “Just cuff him, and then call me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Holly got him situated and went to have her own dinner. It was getting dark now.

  10

  Holly woke up at her usual six A.M., showered, dressed, and put some coffee on. She fed Daisy and let her out, then went to ask Teddy Wright to join her for breakfast. He was nowhere to be seen.

  Holly was annoyed. She had not told him to leave at dawn, and she expected her officers to follow her instructions. Then she noticed the canvas chair she had put out for Teddy to sit in as he kept watch. It was lying on its side in some long grass. She walked over to it and found Teddy lying facedown in the grass, and there was blood on the back of his head. Alarmed, she turned him over and felt at his neck for a pulse. It was there, but it seemed weak to her.

  She pulled Teddy’s radio off his belt and spoke into it. “Base, this is the chief.”

  “Chief, base.”

  “Get an ambulance out to my house right now, and tell Chief Wallace to get out here, too, and to bring a crime-scene tech.”

  “Roger, Chief.”

  Holly dragged over the chair and put Teddy’s feet in it; shock was a good possibility. She brushed the hair out of his face, and for a moment she felt something she had rarely felt before—motherly. Teddy’s face was cherubic in repose, that of a small boy. A lot of her officers adopted macho attitudes in their work, something she had tried to discourage, but Teddy’s face showed none of that now.

  She heard an ambulance in the distance, and she walked around the house to meet it. “Back there,” she said to the EMTs who spilled out of the vehicle. “You’ll need a stretcher.”

  “What have we got?”

  “Unconscious male police officer, apparent blow to the back of the head. Pulse feels weak to me.”

  She followed them and watched as they went through their routine—placed a collar on the young man’s neck, took his blood pressure, started an IV. Minutes later, Teddy was in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

  “I’ll follow in a few minutes,” Holly said to the driver as he drove past her.

  The ambulance had hardly cleared the driveway when Hurd Wallace drove in. H
e got out of the car. “What’s going on?”

  “Somebody hit Teddy over the head last night and left him unconscious in the grass. I’ve no idea how long he was like that before I found him.”

  Hurd turned to the crime-scene tech. “Check it out—footprints, and anything else you can turn up. Let’s go in the house,” Hurd said.

  “Okay,” Holly replied. “I want to go to the hospital and check on Teddy.” She led the way into the house. “Coffee’s on,” she said.

  “Thanks.” Hurd pulled up a stool to the kitchen counter and accepted the cup. “What do you think is going on here, Holly?”

  Holly peeled a banana, which was going to be breakfast. “I don’t have a clue, Hurd. What are we working on that might cause somebody to want to bug my phones?”

  “It’s been pretty quiet,” Hurd replied. “I can’t think of a thing that would connect to this. Anything in your life that might have brought this on? Anything personal?”

  Holly shook her head. “There isn’t anything personal in my life, except Ham.” It hurt to admit that, especially to her deputy chief. She tossed the banana peel and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Maybe you ought to get Phil Sweat to sweep Ham’s place, too.”

  “Why?”

  Hurd shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”

  The tech knocked on the back door, and Holly waved him in. “What have you got?”

  “Nothing,” the tech replied. “It’s a grassy area, and there were no discernible footprints and no other physical evidence, either.”

  She turned back to Hurd. “Finish your coffee, then please call Phil Sweat and get him back out here. I want to know if the bug is back on the phones, then ask him to go out to Ham’s. Call Ham for me, will you? I want to get to the hospital.”

  Hurd nodded.

  “I’ll see you back at the station.” Holly called Daisy and they hopped into the car and drove away.

  The ER was quiet when Holly arrived at the hospital, and she spoke to the young resident who had treated Teddy.

  “Blow to the head,” the doctor said, “no fracture, but he’s concussed, and he required eight stitches. He was showing signs of shock when he arrived.”