Night Fall

“The Waldorf or the Union League Club.”

“Then let’s avoid those. Let’s pick someplace around Midtown.”

She thought a moment, then replied, “The Plaza.”

“Call them now and make a reservation. You need two adjoining rooms.”

“Are you staying with me?”

“Yes. Please use your credit card to hold the rooms, and I’ll see that you’re reimbursed.”

She got on her cell phone, called the Plaza Hotel, and reserved a two-bedroom suite.

I said to her, “I’d like you to turn off your cell phone.”

“Why?”

I explained, “You can be located by cell phone tower triangulation.”

She didn’t ask for any further explanation and shut off her cell phone.

We crossed the Nassau County line into the borough of Queens. We should be at the Plaza Hotel within half an hour.

Jill asked me, “How long will I have to stay at the hotel?”

“About two days.”

“Then what?”

“Then you change hotels. Or I find you a safe house. I need maybe forty-eight hours to line up the army of angels. After that, you’ll be safe.”

“Do I need to call my attorney?”

“If you’d like. But if you could wait a few days, that would be better.”

She nodded.

We continued on the Expressway through Queens, and she asked me, “When will you see Bud?”

“I, or someone else, will see him within the next forty-eight hours.” I added, “Please don’t call him.”

“I have no intention of calling him.” She poked my arm and said, “Why don’t you arrest him? I want to visit him in jail.”

I stifled a laugh, but then she laughed, and I laughed, too. I said, “I think we need his cooperation.”

“Do I need to see him again?”

“Maybe. But we try to keep witnesses separated.”

“Good.” She asked me, “Where do you live?”

“In Manhattan.”

“I lived in Manhattan after college, and before I got married.” She paused. “I married too young. How about you?”

“I’m on my second marriage. You’re going to meet my wife. She’s an FBI agent, currently overseas. Due home tomorrow, if all goes well.”

“What’s her name?”

“Kate. Kate Mayfield.”

“She kept her maiden name?”

“Not all to herself. She offered to let me share it.”

Jill smiled, then asked, “Is that how you met? On the job?”

“Yes.”

“Do you lead interesting lives?”

“At the moment, yes.”

“Is there a lot of danger?”

“There’s a distinct danger of dying from boredom.”

“I think you’re being modest, and understated. Are you bored now?”

“No.”

“How long has she been gone?”

“About a month and a half,” I said.

“And you were in Yemen?”

“I was.”

“What’s boring about that?”

“Go to Yemen and find out.”

“Where was she?”

“Tanzania. Africa.”

“I know where Tanzania is. What was she doing there?”

“You can ask her when you meet her.”

I had the impression that Mrs. Winslow didn’t meet that many interesting people at the club or at lunches or di

The Midtown Tu

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can. But you’ll need some help for a while.”

We approached the tollbooths of the Midtown Tu

Jill asked me, “What should I do about Mark?”

“Call him later from your cell phone.”

“And say what?”

“Say you’re well and that you need some time by yourself. I’ll brief you later.”

“Good. I’ve never been briefed.”

I smiled.

She said, “Eventually, I want to tell him everything.”

“You should… before he finds out. You understand that this is all going to become public.”

She stayed silent awhile, and we watched the grimy white tiles zip by. She said to me, “There were so many nights… when we were sitting in the family room, him on the phone, or reading a paper, or telling me what I had to do the next day, when I wanted to pop that tape in…” She laughed and asked me, “Do you think he would have noticed?”

“I’m sure he would have.”

We emerged from the tu

I said to Jill, “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Like what?”

“Like what’s going to happen next. What to expect. That kind of stuff.”

“If I need to know anything, you’ll tell me. Correct?”

“Correct.”

“Can I make a suggestion?”

“Of course,” I said.

“You’re keeping it in first gear too long.”

“Sorry.”

I turned right on Sixth Avenue and headed up to Central Park South, paying attention to my gear changes. Within a few minutes, we were in front of the Plaza Hotel, and I had the valet park the car. I carried our overnight bags into the opulent lobby and followed Jill to the reception desk.

I didn’t want her paying with her credit card, which could be traced, so she arranged to pay by check, which would be secured by her credit card imprint. I showed the desk clerk my Federal credentials and asked for the manager. He arrived in a few minutes, and I said to him and the clerk, “We are traveling incognito on government business. You will not tell anyone who inquires that Mrs. Winslow is checked in here. You will call the suite if anyone makes such an inquiry. Understood?” They understood and noted it in the computer.

Within ten minutes, we were in the living room of a two-bedroom suite. She found the bigger bedroom, which she claimed without saying a word, and we stood in the living room.

She said, “I’ll call room service. What would you like?”

What I liked was in the room bar, but I said, “Just coffee.”

She picked up the phone and ordered coffee and assorted pastry.

I said to her, “Will your husband be home yet?”

She looked at her watch and said, “Probably not.”

“Okay, what I need you to do is call home and leave a message for Mark. Say something that indicates that you need some time away from home and that you’ve gone to the country with a girlfriend or something. I don’t want him to be alarmed, and I don’t want him calling the police. Understand?”

She smiled and said, “He won’t be alarmed-he’ll be shocked. I’ve never left home before… well, not without a pre-arranged story. And he won’t call the police because he’d be too embarrassed.”

“Good. Use your cell phone.”

“You said-”

“You can keep it on for about five minutes-ten tops.”

She nodded, took her cell phone from her bag, turned it on, and dialed. She said, “Mark, this is Jill. I was bored today, and I decided to take a ride to the Hamptons and visit a girlfriend. I may stay overnight. Call my cell phone if you’d like and leave a message, but I’m not taking calls.” She added, “I hope you had a good morning of golf with the boys, and that Bud Mitchell didn’t aggravate you again.” She looked at me, smiled, and winked. “Bye.”