The Shockwave Rider

“And didn’t disbelieve what he told her, either. Did she?”

“She didn’t behave as though she did. No.”

“Hmm … Well, I’m pleased to inform you that you’ll have adequate opportunity to confirm or deevee your opinion.” Hartz hit another switch; the wall screen in the office lit, showing a vastly enlarged face.

“Computer evaluation here at BDP suggests that your no doubt sophisticated techniques might benefit from reinforcement by—what to call it?—an alternative approach, let’s say, which may strike you as old-fashioned yet which has something to be said in its favor. Because we intend to destroy that tapeworm Haflinger gave to Hearing Aid!” With a sudden glare. “And before the end of this year, what’s more! I have the president’s personal instructions to that effect.”

Freeman’s mouth worked. No sound emerged. He was gazing at the screen.

“Despite any impression I may have given to the contrary,” Hartz continued, “we here in Washington are most cognizant of your skill, patience and thoroughness. Certainly we don’t know anyone who could have done a better job. That’s exactly why we’re sending you a new subject.”

“But …” Freeman raised a shaky finger to point. “But that’s Kate Lilleberg!”

“Yes indeed. That is Kate Lilleberg. And we expect her presence at Tarnover to afford the extra leverage you need in order to pry the last most precious secret out of Nickie Haflinger. Now you must excuse me. I can’t spare you any more of my time. Good afternoon.”