Jim went back to his drawing board, and Ted went to work, donning a pair of earphones and waving some sort of antenna around.
An hour later Jim finished his day’s work, stood up, stretche
d, and went to find Ted. He was in the master bedroom with his equipment. “Ted, would you mind if I leave you here alone? I thought I’d catch a movie down the street.”
“No problem,” Ted replied.
“Just let yourself out when you’re done. The door will lock itself.”
“No problem.”
Jim got his coat and left the apartment.
“No problem at all,” Ted muttered to himself.
Holly was still at her desk at six-thirty when she got a phone call. “Holly Barker.”
“Hi, Holly, it’s Mike Theodore at the New York station.”
“Hi, Mike.”
“I visited the Rutledge and Keane apartment in New York, as requested.”
“And what did you find, Mike?”
“I found that all the telephones had taps that would record anything said on the phone or in the apartment.”
“That’s interesting. What sort of equipment?”
“Over-the-counter, but good quality. The taps transmitted to a re-transmitter, and I found that on the roof, duct-taped inside an air vent. That unit could transmit eight to ten miles, maybe less in the city.”
“Did you strip out the taps?”
“Yes. Rutledge came back from the movies as I was wrapping up, and I gave him all the equipment.”
“What else did you do?”
“I installed six of our proprietary units, high-definition video and audio. For all practical purposes they’re undetectable, at least by an ordinary tech or PI. If you want to take a look, I’ll pipe it to your desk.”
“My computer’s on, go ahead.” Holly watched as her screen went black, then came up again divided into six rectangles, each providing a look into a room.
“Got it?” Mike asked.
“Yes, it looks good.”
“Write down this code.” He read it slowly while she copied. “If you click on the button in the lower right-hand corner of each screen, you can operate the camera with the virtual joystick, zoom in or out, and control the volume.”
Holly tried it. She clicked on the kitchen camera, and the image filled her whole screen. James Rutledge was at the stove, sautéing something. She zoomed in on the pan: shallots. She turned up the volume: sizzle. “Brilliant, Mike. Thank you so much.”
“How long do you want the equipment left in place?”
“I’ll let you know.” Holly hung up and, as she watched, Kelli Keane entered the frame, still wearing her coat. They kissed, she shucked off the coat and left the screen. Holly switched back to the six-camera view and saw her hanging the coat in a closet near the front door. She then poured two drinks and took them back to the kitchen. Holly switched to the kitchen view.
“How was your day?” Rutledge asked.
“Run-of-the-mill,” she said. “Just minor notes on a story. I fixed them on her computer. Did the scan lady show?”
“She sent somebody, who found that there were taps on all our phones.”