As I got
out of Agent Watson’s car, he asked if I had left the porch
light on. Turning to the house, sure enough the outside light
was on, and I almost never use it.
“I
didn’t,” I assured him, emphasizing the “I”
to imply that perhaps he did.
Quickly he
was out of his car and leading me to the front door. As I unlocked
the door, I could not help but notice that his hand was again
in his coat pocket. When the door swung open, I was speechless,
and I heard his pocket click as he barged past me into the house.
“You
guys...” I angrily began.
“Wasn’t
us!” snapped Agent Watson, cutting me off in mid sentence.
“Stay here!” he ordered, motioning me with his left
hand. His other hand, and a wicked looking gun, were out of his
pocket by then.
I stood in
the living room, contemplating the mess while he made a quick
search of the house. When he returned, gun back in his pocket,
I began to wander through my home. It had been thoroughly ransacked,
with every drawer dumped out, every closet emptied. There were
items scattered about the floor that I had forgotten that I even
possessed.
“Welcome home,” he said solemnly, “Messy housekeeper.”
“She
only does windows,” I replied, with more frivolity than
I felt.
Even the
kitchen utensils and silverware had been dumped in the middle
of the kitchen floor.
“Professional
job, checking the backs and bottoms of the drawers,” muttered
Agent Watson, squatting to peer into the counter where the drawers
had been.
“What’s
going on?” I asked, lamely.
“If
you don’t know any more than you say, then you’re
in over your head,” he replied, adding, “Way over
your head!”
…. Since I felt sure that I was continually being watched,
and might even have a tracing device on my car, I decided to take
special precautions. This was an opportunity to put into use some
of those ideas from my “How To Be A Detective” manual.
I drove to
a popular shopping mall, parked close to an automotive store,
and entered, carrying a box that had once contained a car battery.
I was wearing a conspicuous red jacket. Once inside the store
I stepped into an empty elevator and pushed the “down”
button.
I stepped
from the elevator moments later wearing a dark green jacket and
cap, wearing glasses, carrying a shopping bag, and quickly moved
to the exit on the far side of the store. Outside, I hailed a
cab that carried me about 10 blocks. From there I caught another
cab across town to within a half block of a car rental agency.
Surely I had lost any pursuer by that time.
Renting a
plain white sedan, I cautiously, and a little smugly, drove out
of Arlington, heading east.
IN
OVER YOUR HEAD
