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Taking the Fifth(75)

By:Judith A Jance


“The DEA, really?” the dispatcher said.

“You’ve got to get Mrs. Morris out of there,” I said. “Put her in protective custody. Lock the tape in a safe, and don’t let anybody near either one of them—you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” the dispatcher said. “I’ll get right on it.”

I gave him my number. “Call me back here when you’ve got it done,” I ordered. “Leave a message on my machine. I won’t be here, but I’ll be able to get my messages.”

“Right,” the dispatcher said. “Will do.”

I opened the drawer in the table that held the answering machine and took out the remote that Ames had also given me. He had told me someday I’d thank him for being able to pick up my messages without having to be home.

That day had just come. Maybe I’d like Ames better if he wasn’t always right.





CHAPTER 24




NATURALLY, B. W. WAINWRIGHT WASN’T in the phone book. Neither was Roger Glancy. That was hardly surprising, however. Neither is J. P. Beaumont.

I called the department and asked for Sergeant James, only to be told he had left for home some fifteen minutes before. I hated calling his home and waking his family, even though he was probably still awake, but there was no choice.

Lynita James answered on the second ring. “Just a minute,” she said sleepily. “He’s brushing his teeth.”

“It’s Beau,” I said when he came on the line.

“What the hell are you doing calling me at this hour?” he demanded.

“There wasn’t any choice. Wainwright’s the ringleader.”

“He’s what? Come on, Beau. Have you been drinking, or what?”

“Wainwright’s the mastermind behind the whole Westcoast operation and he’s been running it from a catbird seat in the DEA. The whole thing just blew sky high. Richard Dathan Morris sent a tape to his mother, naming names, and Ray Holman just showed up to try to get it back. He’s in custody in Bellingham. Now all we’ve got to do is lay hands on that other son of a bitch.”

James was convinced. “So what do you need, Beau?”

“Just tell me this. Does somebody have Roger Glancy’s phone number?”

“Sure, I’ve got it. I’ve got all their numbers. I told you I was the liaison, remember?”

“Do you have it there?”

“It’s in my briefcase, in the car. Just a minute.” He put down the phone, and I could hear Lynita grumpily questioning him about what was going on. Being married to a cop is hell.

Sergeant James came back on the phone. “I’ve got it, but I was just thinking. What if Glancy’s in on it?”

“I’m worried about that too, but it’s a chance we’ll have to take. Glancy’s name wasn’t mentioned anywhere on the tape.”

“Are you going to call him, or do you want me to?” James asked.

“Let’s call him together,” I said. “Give me the number and I’ll patch us in.”

From the way he answered the phone, I knew we had awakened Roger Glancy out of a sound sleep. “This is Detective Beaumont with Seattle police, and Sergeant Lowell James.”

“Who?” Glancy mumbled.

I repeated the names. “Oh, that’s right. I remember now. What’s happening?”

“Roger,” I said slowly, “this may be hard to follow, but we need you to give us Wainwright’s address. Better yet, we need you to take us there.”

“What do you mean? How come?” Glancy was still struggling to wake up and not entirely succeeding. I figured I might as well douse him in the face with cold water.

“We have reason to believe he’s working the other side,” I said quietly. “We think he’s the one who’s been running the Westcoast operation.”

“Oh, come on. You guys are shitting me.”

Sergeant James stepped into the fray. “Look, Glancy, this isn’t a joke, and we’ve got to move on it. Where does Wainwright live?”

“Windermere,” Glancy answered. “He lives on Ivanhoe, a few blocks north of Children’s Orthopedic Hospital.”

“All right, meet us at the southwestern corner of University Village. You can lead us to the house. That’ll be faster than having us all bumble around in a residential neighborhood at this hour of the night.”

“Who all’s coming?” Glancy asked.

“I’ll be there,” Sergeant James said. “Detective Beaumont and probably a couple of squad cars. But no lights and no sirens.”

“Right,” Glancy said. “I can make it in fifteen.”

“Fifteen it is,” James responded. “See you there, Beau,” he added.