Life's a Beach Then You Die Read online

  Chapter Eleven

  I joined Ed and Jack at the bar, and then Ed and I left for the parking lot. When Jack said goodbye, he smiled and I had a fleeting thought. I wondered if he really brought Ed and me together just to boost his bar business.

  I used my remote to unlock my car. I know it’s a safe area, but I’m one of those folks who lock their cars. Even when it’s inside of my locked garage, I lock my car. Years of going to school and working in New York City caused me to develop some particular habits. In addition, I figured if I had to work hard to get that car, why shouldn’t anyone that steals it.

  Ed got into the passenger seat and asked, “So, how are we going to do this?”

  “Well, I’m going to park in front of your place and we’re going in your side door, the one that leads directly into your office. We’re not going to talk. You unlock the door, go straight to the stereo and put on a CD. After you’ve done that, I’m going to do a bug sweep.”

  He looked at me sideways, “Why am I putting on the CD?”

  “Two reasons, one is we want it loud enough to mask any noise we might make looking for the bug. The other is the bug may be voice activated.”

  “Why does it matter if it’s voice activated?”

  “The detector works by sensing radio transmissions. If the bug is voice activated and the room is quiet, the bug won’t be transmitting and we won’t be able to find it. Playing music should activate it so it transmits.”

  “I see. So by using a voice activated bug, listeners can minimize detection.”

  “To some extent, but voice activation also extends battery life and makes it easier to review surveillance recordings.”

  We pulled up in front of Ed’s office. I stopped the car, pocketed my car keys and reached into my camera bag. “Here, take this. If we find a bug, shoot it.”

  Out of the corner of my vision, I saw Ed tense when I said that. I glanced up at his face and he looked shocked. I pulled my hand out of my bag holding my digital camera and he relaxed. “Uh, I thought you had er, I thought you meant…never mind.”

  I laughed. “No. Ed. I don’t even own a gun.”

  He took the camera, stared at it and then looked at me with a blank expression.

  “Do you know how to use it?”

  “Umm, yeah, turn it on, where? Here?” He pressed a button and the telescoping camera lens whirred to life. “Point and then press this button on the top. Right?”

  Ed’s head shot back as the camera went off and the flash filled the car. “Oops.”

  “Exactly.”

  I reached around to the back seat and got out the bug detector. I checked the battery, put on the headphones, and switched on the detector. If it detected a radio signal within 25 feet, a light would flash and a beep would sound in the headphones. The closer I got to the source of the signal, the faster the light would flash and the faster the sound would beep. The beep would also get louder as I got closer.

  If there were more than one radio signal, the detector would respond to the strongest one. I would have to sweep the entire area carefully or a more powerful signal could drown a weaker one. This could be a problem, as a typical house would have all sorts of normal radio signals. Microwaves, cordless telephones, wireless computer equipment, remote control lights and fans all transmitted on frequencies a bug could use.

  Plus, there were the inadvertent radio transmissions that came from malfunctioning or poorly designed household equipment like cable TV boxes, VCRs and appliance motors. Hell, even the mini-fridge behind Ed’s desk could produce a radio signal when it kicks on. I wasn’t optimistic. I turned to Ed, smiled with false confidence and said, “OK, let’s go.”

  We walked up the path to the house. Ed opened the side door with his key and went directly to the stereo on the bookcase. He pressed some buttons and the CD left in the player started to play. It was a bright sounding classical piece featuring violins. I wasn’t a whiz on classical music, but I thought it might have been Vivaldi. It played at a good volume and filled the room so I expected it would easily trigger any voice-activated equipment. The problem was some of the high notes the violins played sounded a lot like the high-pitched beep of the detector. More than once, when I thought I heard a beep, I looked down but saw no flashing light to indicate the device had detected a signal.

  I was in front of Ed’s desk, by the client chairs when I thought I heard another beep. This time, when I looked down, I saw a flashing light. I stopped and slowly rotated my hips from left to right. When I went to the left, towards the client chairs and the bookcase behind them, the light and the beep stopped. When I rotated to my right, towards Ed’s desk, the light flashed faster and the device beeped louder. As I turned to face Ed’s desk, it became obvious there was a radio signal coming from under the pile of paper.

  I looked up at Ed and saw he was watching the flashing light on the bug detector. I could see he got it. He could tell we found a bug hidden under the papers. He also seemed to realize one other important thing. He was going to have to do one of the things I guessed he probably dreaded most. He was going to have to clear off his desk and worse, he was going to have to do it quietly without complaining.

  As Ed moved papers from the desk to the floor, I used the time to sweep the rest of the office. Just because I found one device, it didn’t mean there weren’t others. During the few minutes it took to check the rest of the room, Ed cleared the desk of everything except for the telephone and the answering machine. After carefully moving the phone to one side of the desk and the answering machine to the other, I waved the detector over each one, monitoring the beeps and flashes. They were stronger over the answering machine.

  I turned off the detector, put it down on the desk and leaned over the answering machine for a closer look. It looked normal. No odd attachments or wires protruded. I picked it up for a closer look. On the top was a lid. I opened it and saw nothing inside but a small recording tape. I hadn’t seen one of these in ages. I thought by now, everybody had changed to digital machines. I closed the lid and turned the machine over. On the bottom was a small hatch, like the kind that covers a battery compartment. I had seen machines like this before. They had a back up battery so the machine could still function if the electricity went off. Since telephone lines carry their own power and could function during a power outage, these backup batteries made sense.

  I opened the battery cover and saw the bug. It was easy to identify since I knew what a battery looked like and the device in the battery compartment was clearly not a battery. I looked over at Ed and saw him leaning over the desk chair watching me as if the bug were a bomb. I pointed to the bug, and touched my thumb and forefinger together twice in front of my right eye.

  He nodded, lifted the camera to his face and took two shots. After each, he showed me the image on the camera screen. They looked good. You could clearly see the bug. When he was finished, I carefully replaced the battery cover and put the answering machine down. I pointed to the stereo and then to the door. Ed turned off the music and we walked briskly out of his office.

  I could see it took a great effort for Ed to contain himself inside his office. He was silently moving his lips and shaking his head from side to side. Once outside, Ed looked like he was ready to burst. He was shaking. He was sputtering. His lips were moving but he wasn’t saying anything, at least nothing intelligible. I hurried to the car so he could unburden himself in a private spot. He followed. We got inside. Ed slammed the door shut and then he exploded. I even learned a few new curse words. I was impressed. I guessed that was just one more advantage of an Ivy League education.

  Interspersed between the expletives, I thought I heard something about “client privilege”, “not since 1577” and then “Berd v Lovelace”. Then he mumbled something like “not even” and then “1988” and “Swidler & Berlin v. United States”. After a while, his muttering began to slow down and he gradually became more coherent.

  “Max. I can’t believe what I saw. I can’t believe
what they did to me, did to my clients. I have to stop these people. We’ve got to stop these people.” He made a fist and pounded the air.

  “Then, you want me to continue pursuing this?”

  “Well, yes, dammit.” He slapped his right hand on his thigh and looked at me as if I were an idiot. I know because I’ve gotten that look before.

  “What about Ray and his widow?”

  “I’ll call the D. A. I’ll work something out. I’ll call in favors if I need to. Get those bastards. They compromised me.” He pointed his finger at me and shook it. His whole body shook. “They compromised my clients. Get ‘em. The bastards.” He clenched both fists and shook them once at chest level. “The bastards.”

  “OK, Ed. I’m going to head out now. In the meantime, we’ll leave the bug where it is. It’s better they don’t know we found it. Just don’t say anything in that room that can’t be public. Now, how about you get the police report and I’ll drive out to the accident site to look around.”

  “Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. We split up. Ed got out of the car and I started the engine. With any luck, the police report would tell me which way Ray was driving when he crashed. In any event, I wanted to see the site for myself. I was sure the officers at Ray’s murder scene weren’t looking at it in connection with a break-in that hadn’t yet occurred.