Naomi turns to our young hacker, who looks sleepy no longer. Looking, for that matter, more than a little shell-shocked by what has so suddenly transpired, and having barely touched his scone, much to our chefs clucking disapproval. Six months ago young Mr. Boyle was operating out of a Newbury Street coffeehouse, hacking for cash and sleeping in shelters and all-night cybercafes. All he owned in the world was a battered, customized laptop and the clothes on his back. Oh, and various body piercings of dubious quality, at least one of which looked like an ordinary paper clip hanging from his lower lip. Despite that, or maybe because of it, Naomi had taken notice. She tried him on a fairly easy assignment, and then a more difficult case that involved bending a truly frightening number of laws, and then one day shed announced that the scruffy teenage hacker would be joining the household on a permanent basis. It was rough for a while-despite his innate politeness, the boy has a feral quality and hates to be confined-but just lately he seems to be acclimating, even blooming under her tutelage. Today his wrinkled black T-shirt says it all: LIFE IS A BITCH-I KNOW BECAUSE I WORK FOR HER. A gift from Naomi, who is not without a sense of humor.
Teddy, I want to know everything there is to know about Randall Shane, his alleged victim, Joseph Keener, and the son, Joey. Public, private, personal, professional. Shane is a legendary kid finder and has worked a number of high-profile cases, so there will be a lot of hits. The juicy stuff will likely be in secure files, and that means take precautions.
When Teddy rolls his eyes, Naomi hones in with a certain tone. Young man, Im aware you take pride in your ability to access data and remain undetected. Pride is good, and youre a valued member of this team because of your talent and your tenacity. But given what just happened here-a man was snatched from this very house by persons unknown, in broad daylight, with clockwork efficiency-a little paranoia is more than justified. We dont yet know who were dealing with, but make no mistake, there will be people with your skill set on the other side. If you get careless or arrogant or overconfident you could be the next one seized by men in ski masks. Is that understood?
Teddy nods, looking just a little skinnier and even more tightly wound.
Naomi drains her cup and stands up. Beasley, youre on standby. No formal lunch today. Sandwiches on request to the library, which will serve as a temporary command center. She turns to me. Alice, make arrangements for repairs, completed by end of day if possible. Or, failing that, closed to the weather. And deal with the cops.
What cops?
The ones who will soon be at the front entrance, wanting to know what happened.
What shall I tell them?
Whatever you like, she says. Just keep them out of my hair and out of my house.
Right on cue, the doorbell rings, followed shortly thereafter by the pounding of a fist.
Chapter Three
A movie, huh? the young patrolwoman says. So where are they?
It was just the one scene. They needed the exterior shot.
The witness report said helicopter, unmarked, low altitude. Men swarming down ropes. Some kind of assault type of situation.
Stuntmen. Fortunately no one was hurt, and theyre paying for the repairs. Part of the contract.
The patrolwoman makes a note, looks at me doubtfully. Theres nothing about a film permit for this block.
Not my department. Up to the movie people.
You got a name for the production company?
Not me. The property manager might.
Name and number?
I hand her our attorneys card. A perfect endless loop, as the young patrolwoman will discover, if she bothers to follow up. Doubtful, since were not filing a complaint.
Theres glass all over the sidewalk, she points out.
Ill get my broom.
More notes. The cop gives me a long look, as if trying to decide if Im fronting for some criminal activity even now taking place inside the residence. Must charge a lot, a place like this, to let em bust your windows.
Again, not my department. But I assume it was a generous offer.
What is your department, Ms. Crane?
Alice. Im the caretaker.
Uh-huh. Is the owner in residence?
As I understand it, the property is owned by a real estate holding company.
So this is like, what, an investment kind of deal?
Apparently. As I say, Im only the-
Caretaker. Yeah, I got it. The notebook snaps shut. Were done. Have a nice day. My advice, take care of the glass. This city, somebodyll sue ya.
Thanks, Officer.
All of the above is conducted on the sidewalk, below the entrance, which rises seven steps from the pavement. Naomis rules forbid law enforcement officers from entering the premises unless invited. She calls it the vampire rule. Plenty of cops have been invited, over the years, and a chosen few have stayed for dinner, but this is the first full-scale invasion without a warrant. And it wasnt cops this time, not exactly. And maybe not even slightly. More like a paramilitary mission executed with stopwatch precision.
Next task, fix the building. We have a standing arrangement with Danny Bechst. Youve probably seen his vans around town, with the Bechst of Boston logo wrapped around the vehicles. The deal is, when we call Danny he drops everything and works the problem until it is completed, around the clock if necessary. For this he gets a very handsome annual retainer plus double the normal hourly rate, so Danny Boy loves it when we call. Included in the compensation package is an understanding that all work be conducted with the utmost regard to privacy and security. His men, and theyre all men except for a couple of females on his interior painting crew, are not to stray unchaperoned anywhere on the premises. As far as Dannys crew are aware, the owner is a rich eccentric who treasures her privacy, only the last of which happens to be true, technically. It helps that most of his guys dont speak English and wouldnt know who Naomi Nantz is if they tripped over her, which Danny makes sure they dont. Trip over her, that is.
I punch Dannys number and in less than an hour a couple of his men, working from the outside, have screwed temporary plywood panels to the broken windows, and Danny himself is inside the command center taking measurements.
No problem, he promises. End of day itll look like new, only better.
There are a few more things you need to know about boss lady before we can proceed. What I said about how she treasures her privacy, believe me, thats understating. When Naomi Nantz calls herself a Very Private Investigator shes not kidding, and shell do almost anything to keep it that way. Also true, that shes neither rich nor eccentric. Brilliant and difficult is not the same as eccentric. Eccentric is dressing your pets in period costumes; brilliant and difficult means you know exactly how to go about saving an innocent life and/or bringing the guilty to justice, and you dont much care who might get offended or insulted along the way.
The assumption that she must be rich, to live in such a place and undertake cases of her choosing, regardless of recompense, is understandable, but mistaken. Im in charge of the operating budget, paying the staff and so on, and I happen to know that she draws a salary like everyone else. Okay, more than everyone else, but still. Nor was I fibbing about the residence being owned by some sort of holding company, and legally managed through a law firm. So it is. As to who is really paying the bills and underwriting the whole enterprise-we call him (or it could be a her) the Benefactor-only Naomi knows the truth of the matter. Or so we all assume. When something extraordinary happens, shes the one who makes contact, so she must know who it is, right?
As to the woman herself, for the past three years Ive been working closely with her on a daily basis, and yet I know nothing for certain about her personal history, her family or how she came to be here, doing what she does. Im not even sure if Naomi Nantz is her birth name. Boss lady is pretty much off grid and Im inclined to respect that choice.
Up to a point.
With the repairs sorted out, I head down the hall to the library, a large room with tall built-in bookcases on three walls. Theres one corner window where if I stand on my tippy-toes I can just glimpse the Charles River. Other than the roof deck and Beasleys kitchen, this is my favorite place in the residence, mostly because its so rarely used that I usually have it to myself. Not today. Naomi has taken possession of the leather-covered magazine table, setting up a laptop, a broadband phone with a couple of open lines and a secure line hardwired into a satellite phone antenna. I let her know where we stand, cop-wise and repair-wise, and she motions to a rail-back chair as she finishes her call.
As to the woman herself, for the past three years Ive been working closely with her on a daily basis, and yet I know nothing for certain about her personal history, her family or how she came to be here, doing what she does. Im not even sure if Naomi Nantz is her birth name. Boss lady is pretty much off grid and Im inclined to respect that choice.
Up to a point.
With the repairs sorted out, I head down the hall to the library, a large room with tall built-in bookcases on three walls. Theres one corner window where if I stand on my tippy-toes I can just glimpse the Charles River. Other than the roof deck and Beasleys kitchen, this is my favorite place in the residence, mostly because its so rarely used that I usually have it to myself. Not today. Naomi has taken possession of the leather-covered magazine table, setting up a laptop, a broadband phone with a couple of open lines and a secure line hardwired into a satellite phone antenna. I let her know where we stand, cop-wise and repair-wise, and she motions to a rail-back chair as she finishes her call.
Youll be writing up your notes for the daily meeting, of course.
Of course. Thats why you pay me the big bucks.
Probably dont have a lot to write up, just yet.