Stone shook his head. “Not deliberately, but Lance’s people have wired my house for sound and pictures, and Bob Cantor has seen to it that I have some control over what he sees and hears.”
“I’m not sure I want to know what that means,” Dino said.
FORTY-THREE
Early the following morning Stone got a call from Bob Cantor.
“How’s my little scrambler working out for you?” Cantor asked.
“I’ll tell you how beautifully it’s working,” Stone said. “It’s driving the Agency people absolutely nuts. They want to know how I’m doing it. Do you want me to tell them?”
“Funny you should mention that,” Cantor replied. “My attorney is filing a patent this morning on two versions. You’ve got one; the other has two buttons: one for the frequency range of most bugs and one for the cell phone frequency range.”
“Sounds great.”
“It is, believe me. You tell the Agency people to get in touch with me, and I’ll sell them preproduction units for twenty-five thousand bucks a pop, minimum order of twelve.”
Stone whistled. “What will you sell the production models for?”
“We’re aiming at thirty-five hundred bucks and going after the professional market first. Later, we’ll market a consumer version for fifteen hundred. Tell the Agency people that the preproduction units I’m offering will allow them to adjust the frequency range on the bug scrambler. You can keep your copy, but don’t give it to them; they’ll just cannibalize it and clone it.”
“Right,” Stone said.
“How much longer are you meeting with these folks?”
“Today’s the last day.”
“Okay, I’ll put everything on DVDs and have two copies for you ready tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Bob.”
Pablo was late arriving, only a couple of minutes ahead of Lance and his group. He was carrying a cardboard mailing tube under his arm.
“Here’s how I want to work this,” Stone said. “We’ll give them the morning to continue grilling you, then immediately after lunch, we’ll hand them their bonus. Once you’ve answered all their questions, excuse yourself to go to the john and get out the back way.”
“Sounds good,” Pablo said. “I’m going—”
Stone interrupted him. “I don’t want to know where you’re going or how,” he said. “Wait a day or two, or when it’s convenient, and give me a call. I’ll bring you up to date on anything that’s happened.”
“There’s something I should tell you,” Pablo said. “The name they called me on—Mohammed X—the one they couldn’t find in their files?”
“Yes?”
“He’s the one who gave me this map.” He held up the tube.
“Then please tell them that,” Stone said. Joan buzzed him and said that everybody was waiting for them in the dining room.
Stone and Pablo went in and sat down at the table.
Lance began. “Pablo, let’s revisit your mention of the nom de guerre Mohammed X.”
“I’ll tell you more about him after lunch,” Pablo said, “but not until then.”
“Why not until then?”
“You’ll understand after lunch.”
Lance sighed. “All right, but you’re not getting out of here until I know everything you know about him.”