Chapter 62

I pulled all three phones out of my pocket and laid them on the table. One of them was skittering around, an eighth of an inch at a time. Vigorous vibration. Its window said Restricted Call. I opened it up and put it to my ear and said, “Hello?”

Lila Hoth asked, “Are you still in New York?”

I said, “Yes.”

“Are you near the Four Seasons?”

I said, “Not very.”

“Go there now. I left a package for you at the desk.”

I asked, “When?”

But the line went dead.

I glanced at Springfield and said, “Wait here.” Then I hustled out to the lobby. Saw no retreating back heading for the door. The scene was tranquil. The greeter in the tail coat was standing idle. I walked to the desk and gave my name and asked if they were holding anything for me. A minute later I had an envelope in my hands. It had my name handwritten across the front in thick black letters. It had Lila Hoth’s name up in the top left corner, where the return address would be. I asked the desk clerk when it had been delivered. He said more than an hour ago.

I asked, “Did you see who dropped it off?”

“A foreign gentleman.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No, sir.”

The envelope was padded, about six inches by nine. It was light. It had something stiff in it. Round, and maybe five inches in diameter. I carried it back to the tea room and sat down again with Springfield. He said, “From the Hoths?”

I nodded.

He said, “It could be full of anthrax spores.”

“Feels more like a CD,” I said.

“Of what?”

“Afghan folk music, maybe.”

“I hope not,” he said. “I’ve heard Afghan folk music. At length and up close.”

“You want me to wait to open it?”

“Until when?”

“Until you’re out of range.”

“I’ll take the risk.”

So I tore open the envelope and shook it. A single disc spilled out and made a plastic sound against the wood of the table.

“A CD,” I said.

“A DVD actually,” Springfield said.

It was home-made. It was a blank disc manufactured by Memorex. The words Watch This had been written across the label side with a black permanent marker. Same handwriting as the envelope. Same pen. Lila Hoth’s handwriting and Lila Hoth’s pen, presumably.

I said, “I don’t have a DVD player.”

“So don’t watch it.”

“I think I have to.”

“What happened on the train?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can play DVDs on a computer. Like people watch movies on their laptops on airplanes.”

“I don’t have a computer.”

“Hotels have computers.”

“I don’t want to stay here.”

“There are other hotels in the city.”

“Where are you staying?”

“The Sheraton. Where we were before.”

So Springfield paid our tea-room bill with a platinum credit card and we walked from the Four Seasons to the Sheraton. The second time I had made that trip. It took just as long. Crowded sidewalks, people moving slow in the heat. It was one o’clock in the afternoon, and very warm. I was watching for cops the whole way, which didn’t aid our progress. But we got there in the end. The plasma screen in the lobby listed a whole bunch of events. The ballroom was booked by a trade association. Something to do with cable television. Which made me think of the National Geographic Channel, and the silverback gorilla.

Springfield opened the door to the business center with his key card. He didn’t come in with me. He told me he would wait in the lobby, and then he walked away. Three of the four work stations were occupied. Two women, one man, all of them in dark suits, all of them with leather briefcases propped open and spilling paper. I took the empty chair and set about trying to figure out how to play a DVD on a computer. I found a slot on the tower unit that looked fit for the purpose. I pushed the disc in and met with some temporary resistance and then a motor whirred and the unit sucked at the disc and pulled it from my grasp.

Nothing much happened for five seconds. Just a lot of stopping and starting and whirring. Then a big window opened on the screen. It was blank. But it had a graphic in the bottom corner. Like a picture of a DVD player’s buttons. Play, pause, fast forward, rewind, skip. I moved the mouse and the pointer arrow changed to a chubby little hand as it passed over the buttons.

The phone in my pocket started to vibrate.