Chapter 4
Security agents Roberts and Diaz and the other four members of their team had kept a diligent watch on Miss Becker for the past ten days. One vehicle followed her when she left her home for school, a different one when she left for home. There was a vacant mobile home a few doors away from the Beckers’ home, and they had discreetly rented it, and were using an older model luxury vehicle at that post. An “Old fogey’s car” agent Diaz had dubbed it; however, it fit in with the surroundings perfectly. When they saw Miss Becker exit her home to catch the school bus, one or the other was tinkering in the yard in coveralls, or under the hood of the car.
Once the bus was gone, a phone call to a house down the block sent a sporty car chasing after the bus. “Out for a joyride” was the façade that the agents in that car used; a man and a woman, in casual attire, taking in the view. They could have been tourists, or home-folk returning after making it big in the City. They followed the bus, far back, slowing frequently as if to check out a home for sale, or watch a squirrel climb a tree. When the bus completed its route and the students disembarked at the school that couple nodded to a maintenance worker cutting the hedges at the high school and went back to their post.
A janitor at the school walked the hallway behind Jo and her two friends on the way to the supply closet. If Jo had noticed him at all, she would have considered him a hard worker. He was always sweeping, or mopping, or fixing something when she moved from class to class. It never entered her mind to wonder why the janitor seemed to be always there. She didn’t notice him. Once the last bell had rung and school was finished, the janitor put away his things and left for the day. The maintenance man watched Jo as she got back on the bus, or, as she did the last day of school, got into Alex’s car. Once she was in her chosen mode of transportation, he nodded to a deliveryman in a truck parked across the street, put away his mower and his clippers, and left for the day.
The delivery driver seemed lost, as it took him many turns to find his location, and he always kept the bus, or Alex’s car, in sight. Every other day, they switched to a mailman. They worked hard to keep their team invisible.
In short, they had a fleet of vehicles at their disposal, and no two were alike. So on the third day into the surveillance, when a black sedan with tinted windows appeared, they were on their guard.
It was first spotted at the mobile home park. Roberts saw the black sedan with dark tint stop across the main road from the park. He couldn’t see through the tinted glass, it was too dark, but no one got out, and after a few minutes, the car drove off. Two days later, he saw the same car again, but this time, after it stopped, he spotted a tall, thin man wearing black slacks and a suit jacket getting out and crossing the road. Once across the road, the man blended into the foliage, and crept in the direction of the Beckers’ home. Roberts was wearing khaki shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and tennis shoes. He was walking the dog, part of the cover he’d established at the mobile home park. It was the middle of the day, and Miss Becker was at school, with the janitor and maintenance man watching her. His job here was to wait for her return, when he would once again be her unnoticed bodyguard. The stranger, however, did not belong in the park. This location, as well as its residents, had been under surveillance from the beginning, as part of the initial report he had passed on to Director Johnson. The car and the man both were new entities to be researched and possibly taken care of.
Roberts led the dog back to the rented home and found Diaz already taking stock of the intruder.
“Do you think he’s the one who is trying to kill the girl?” Diaz asked.
“Either the one, or sent by him. Either way, we need to find out who he is and track his movements. I’m going out to his car to get a license plate and see what else I can find. Radio if he heads back to his car.”
Roberts left the dog at the mobile and donned a floppy hat. Looking like an old geezer out for a stroll, he headed up the road toward the exit to the park then, glancing to see where his prey was, dashed across the main road to the unfamiliar car. He quickly made note of the license plate, then went around to the passenger front door. He pulled out a flat rod he had hidden in his clothing, slipped it into the car door along side the window, and popped open the lock. He glanced around quickly to see if anyone was about, then opened the door, and slipped inside. He radioed to Diaz to see if the coast was still clear, and Diaz told him the man was searching the perimeter of the Beckers’ mobile. Roberts opened the glove box to search for any information regarding the owner of the car. Finding no registration information, he felt on top of the visors on both sides of the windshield, and then looked in the pockets on the doors. Nothing. Whoever this guy was, he had no registration in the vehicle. Maybe that could still be useful, he thought. Suddenly he heard Diaz calling him over the radio.
“Suspect headed your way.”
Roberts took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped down any surface he might have touched, then quickly escaped, remembering to lock the door. He went into the bushes of the house nearest him, and watched. The man came back across the street, got in his car and left. Once it was clear, Roberts headed back to the mobile to talk to Diaz.
“What did he do around the trailer?” he asked as soon as the door was closed and he was inside.
“Nothing. He never tried the doors, he never paused long enough to plant a bug or a bomb, and most of the time he just searched the plants. It was like he was looking for something.”
Two days after that, the black car and the man appeared again. It was earlier in the day this time, just after the girl had left for school. Again the man furtively searched the bushes and plants surrounding the Becker’s home.
“Well he couldn’t have dropped anything. We’ve been here a week, and even sporadically before that while compiling the initial information for the Director. Other than the last time we saw him searching the bushes, he hasn’t been here that I’ve seen.”
“Maybe he has a partner that left something for him here, and he came to retrieve it.”
“Well, I don’t like him snooping around. I’m going to scare him off.” Roberts put the dog on a leash, and went out to walk him. He headed toward the Beckers’ mobile first, and, as Roberts suspected, the man melted into the shadows, went back to his car and drove away. Roberts headed back to the rental.
“He got spooked, just as I knew he would. I sure would like to know what he thinks he lost.”
Diaz nodded, then suddenly jumped up, excited. “Wait. I just remembered something,” Diaz said. “Yesterday while you were walking the dog, a guy came and pruned the roses at the Beckers’. Then he did the same at the Harper lady’s trailer next door, but I didn’t see him come here. What if the gardener wasn’t a gardener?”
“Let’s find out.”
Roberts picked up the phone and called the front office. “Hi. Yes this is Mr. Jones in space seventy-two. I was wondering if you could send your gardener to trim the hedges in front of the rental here. It’s really shabby looking, and my daughter is coming to visit tomorrow.”
“No, I’m terribly sorry,” was the reply, “each tenant is responsible for his own yard. We do not have a gardener on staff.”
Roberts looked at Diaz and nodded. “So you don’t have someone to prune the roses either?” he pressed.
“No, sir, I’m sorry. That, too, is your responsibility.”
“Thank you.” He hung up.
Diaz turned to Roberts, “I’ll get my gloves. We need to search that rosebush.”
The two men walked up the road the few feet to the Beckers’ mobile. Diaz donned his work gloves and Roberts stood by and kept an eye out. He asked questions about how to prune, and what was the best tool to use, so that if anyone saw them, it would look like Roberts was receiving a pruning lesson from Diaz. As Diaz answered the questions, he carefully searched each stem and leaf of the rosebush he had seen the fake gardener pruning the day before. Then down near the bottom of the bush, he saw a tiny string, nearly invisible. He followed the string to see where it went and, noticing it went down into the dirt, he pulled on it gently, and then out of the dirt popped a key. They two men looked at each other. This was big.
Diaz cautiously cut the string and removed it from the rosebush. Roberts turned as if to leave, said thank you for the pruning help, and headed back towards their rented trailer. Diaz glanced around. He knew what he had to do. Making sure no one was watching, he took the key and mounted the Beckers’ steps to their front door. He inserted the key into the lock and turned. It opened. The adversary had somehow gotten past their watch and found a way into the house. This was bad.
Diaz re-locked the door and returned to the rented house where he knew Roberts would be waiting.
“Well? Does it open the door?” Roberts asked impatiently.
“Yes.” Diaz sighed. “We’d better notify Director Johnson. Someone got past us and devised a way into the house. Miss Becker is no longer safe.”
“I wonder why the guy who was here earlier didn’t find the key.”
“It was hidden well. We wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t seen which rosebush the gardener was pruning yesterday.”
“So the first time the fellow came, it wasn’t planted yet. Today, we spooked him before he found it. This could have gone bad, but we know almost certainly now, that that man is a hired assassin.”
They called the director to notify her of the new threat. She immediately demanded a full report. “The black sedan’s license plate was phony,” Roberts began once Diaz was on the line with him. “There was no registration, so no ID on the perpetrator. A man posing as a gardener placed the key we discovered at the location. I do not know how that man got a key to the home, but we were able to verify that the key does indeed unlock the front door of the mobile home.”
“You got a good look at the man from the black sedan?” she asked Roberts.
“We both did, ma’am. Dark hair, dark eyes, he wore black slacks and a suit jacket. He was dressed well. Expensive. The black sedan was a late model, no telltale marks.”
“Any idea about the gardener?” she directed her question to Diaz.
“We questioned a few of the other residents. Apparently there was a pest control company out a week or so ago. The residents who were unable to be at home during the day were requested to leave a key at the office. Since Mrs. Becker works, and Miss Becker was in school, we can assume they left a key as requested. We are tracking the employees now, and will inform you when we find the one who copied the key. The company is legit, but the assassin must have found out about the planned spray,” he checked his notes, “some kind of ant problem in the mobile home park. What is strange is that this is the first time this Park has ever paid for pest control. We assume that one of the employees of the company copied the key.”
“We are still one week from safety. You cannot let this guy get that close again,” the director emphasized. “Miss Becker is your life right now. You don’t eat, sleep, or breathe for the next seven days, you hear me?” The two agreed and hung up. Even though they knew the key had been copied before their assignment to the case, and that they had seized the duplicate before the assassin got his hands on it, they still felt responsible. They must protect the girl at all costs. They went back to their post subdued, and sent the couple off to meet the bus, which would be bringing Miss Becker home shortly.
“We need better surveillance on the trailer. Can we set up some cameras on the back side so we can see all around?” Diaz suggested.
“We considered that, but there really is no place to conceal them.”
“Well we can at least bug the back of it, so we can hear if anyone goes around back that we didn’t see.”
“Yes,” responded Roberts, “That we can do.” He glanced at his watch. “It will have to wait until tonight, though. The girl will be home too soon to do it now.”
The next few days passed without further incident. The description of the suspect returned no matches in any database the government allowed them to use. The pest control guy had quit work the day after pretending to be a gardener, and had packed up and skipped town. They had a name, but found the man’s real identification in the garbage can of his hastily vacated apartment. That meant he had obtained a new identity. Another dead-end. So the team watched and waited, and became more and more protective of the girl in the trailer.