The Mole in His Bed novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: The Wall

"I can't get a warrant on Elias Crane's say-so," Judith said.

"I know."

"If I did, her lawyer would have it thrown out by lunch."

"I know that too."

Judith looked at the ceiling of the safe house for a while.

"I'm going to take a very long bath tonight," she said. "I won't be answering my phone."

"Thank you."

"I didn't hear any of this."

That night Paula went on the ten o'clock news from a television studio downtown.

I watched her on the safe house's one small set, saying that the families of Pier Nine deserved a day of peace.

At eleven I went down the back stairs, past the dry cleaner's steam pipes, and out through the alley.

The marshal was dozing in his car at the front.

I walked to the bus and took it across the city with my hood up.

The house in Hampden was dark.

I went around the back and found the loose brick at the foot of the steps.

The spare key was still under it, rusted in its little plastic bag, where I had left it before my last trip.

Nobody had ever thought to look.

I let myself in through the kitchen.

The smoke detector over the stove blinked a green light, once, every few seconds, and I stood under it for a moment.

Then I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight.

The hall closet was where it had always been.

I pushed the coats aside on their hooks and ran my hand along the wood above them.

One panel gave under my fingers, and swung inward on a hinge.

Behind it was a flat gray envelope with no writing on it.

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