I reached into my purse again and took out the plastic container of bugs. I peeled the backing off one and stuck it to the underside of my desk. I peeled the backing off another and carried it into Sean’s office.
I stood behind his desk for a moment, letting my eyes graze across the top. There were stacks of folders and various papers scattered around. I pushed through them for a moment but didn’t see anything that looked out of the ordinary. I knew Sean was too smart to just leave evidence of criminal activity on his desk. I leaned down with one hand to plant the bug under the desk. When I looked up, someone was standing in the doorway.
“Hey, there’s no toilet paper in the men’s room,” the Stooge that had passed my door a minute earlier said. He still had the newspaper in one hand and was holding onto his belt with the other. He was short and fat, probably in his sixties. He had a face that you probably would not have wanted to meet in an alley thirty years ago. Now he just looked like a dumpy old man who needed to take a shit.
“I’m sorry, is that my job?” I asked. I started straightening the folders on Sean’s desk as if I had every right to be there.
“Is what your job?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling.
“Keeping the washroom stocked with toilet paper?”
He gave me a look of utter confusion. “Fuck, I dunno. Boozie just always took care of it.”
“Do you know where the toilet paper is stored?” I asked.
The look of confusion deepened. “Um, no.”
“Okay,” I said, breezing around the desk with a big smile on my face. The smile made his frown melt like an ice cream cone in the sun. “Let’s see if we can’t find it together.”
He worked up a smile for me and said, “Okay.”
I took his arm and led him toward the storage room. It was like leading a two-hundred-pound three-year-old to the potty.
We found the toilet paper and I handed him three rolls. He grunted thanks and hurried toward the washroom, his butt cheeks clenched.
I waited until I heard the washroom door close, then went to plant the bugs in Patsy’s office and the conference room. I’d plant one in the breakroom later while The Three Stooges were at lunch.
* * *
It was nearly two o’clock by the time Sean and Patsy returned. Too late for lunch, too early for dinner.
I tried to smile and flirt and act as if all was well, even though my stomach was churning like a cement mixer.
By the time Sean and Patsy returned, Robbie was well into their network and had activated all the bugs I’d planted.
Ed and the team were listening now.
I’d plant the bugs in Sean’s penthouse the first chance I got.
It should only be a matter of time before all our hard work paid off.
The O’Connor clan would soon be brought to justice after fifty years of breaking the law.
Sean O’Connor would never speak to me again.
I’m sure Ed was ecstatic, but I was feeling like a real piece of shit.
Claire
“This is bullshit!” Ed bellowed, slamming a fist on his desk, making pens and pencils jump and causing his coffee cup to slosh. He braced his palms on the desk and leaned over them, stiff-armed, glaring at poor Robbie, who was taking the brunt of Ed’s anger and frustration, at least at that moment.
“Are you telling me that after two weeks, you have not found one single document, not one email or fax on their network that ties them to anything illegal?”
“No, sir,” Robbie said. “Not a thing.”
Ed put held out his hands and swept his eyes around the rest of the team. Joanie, Danzig, and I were lined up in three chairs in front of Ed’s desk. Lou and Lester were sitting on the couch with their heads down. Poor Robbie was standing beside Ed’s desk, with a look of fear on his pale, young face.
“How is that possible?” Ed asked, slumping in the chair like the air had gone out of him. “Are you sure you’ve gone through everything?”