CHAPTER 12

Keyless entry for any automobile relies on radio transmission. All anyone who wanted entry to any car would have to do is duplicate the frequency of the key fob. I had learned the range of frequency from the German language technical data booklet I'd found online. A simple scanning transmitter required less than five minutes to open the door. I pressed the latch that opened the hood and threaded a short length of optic fiber cable past the radiator to the grille where I taped it into place. The other end I threaded through the fire wall between the engine compartment and the dashboard. I connected it to the cell phone via a tiny motherboard that held the firmware I had created. The phone and firmware I had taped to several grouped wires to keep them from falling and being discovered. Both were connected to the computer socket which was, in turn, connected to all of the vehicle's computers. My control would send what might be considered an electronic text message to the circuit board in the car. The final step was a second fiber optic camera that faced into the cabin. With the two cameras I'd be able to see where they were going and everything that happened between Daisy and Waterman in the car. I was in the clear once I relocked the car doors. I had worn thin vinyl exam gloves like those used by surgeons and my old clothes would find their way to the Salvation Army later tonight. Paying cash for the items purchased meant there was no real way to trace them back to me.

I was back in my rented truck more than twenty minutes before they exited the bar. In that time I had been able to start the car and move it to another parking spot on the other side of the entrance--now for the fun to begin!

Daisy was anything but prudent when they walked out into the fading sunlight. She hung on Waterman's arm and even leaned up to kiss him passionately as people walked by and I seethed silently only twenty feet away. My relationship with Daisy was dead—deader than dead! All I had to do now was bury it. I was amused when they looked for the car that wasn't where they had left it. Other than the phone and cameras I'd left a little present for Waterman behind some maps in the door pocket.

Watching through the interior camera I saw Daisy take Waterman's cock out of his pants. Even though it was only half of what I had, I wondered what the big deal was. I followed them out of the parking lot, turning right heading eastbound on Route 25A toward Kings Park and the parkway to Commack where I knew there were a host of motels. I waited until they were on the highway before parking and turning on my remote control unit. There was no way I could drive two cars at the same time.

I held it in my lap, watching the car's progress on my laptop as I used the joystick to drive erratically through Kings Park where there was only a single lane in each direction. It was funny watching their reactions as Waterman tried futilely to control the car. Neither the steering nor the accelerator nor the brakes worked for him. His attempts to push the gearshift lever into park were also useless. I glanced at the forward camera just in time. Only a few hundred feet ahead of them was a Suffolk County Police car. I steered close enough to sideswipe the car then took off at high speed in an area where the limit was only thirty-five.

Waterman raced eastward with the cop right on his tail, siren blaring and blue and red lights flashing as he apparently paid no attention. Past Kings Park the road turned sharply to the right toward Smithtown. He was hitting seventy when he ran the light at the corner. I made him swerve around several cars, passing in an area marked with a double yellow line and a sign at the roadside that clearly said "NO PASSING."

Suddenly, I pulled over and slowed down, stopping on the shoulder. I couldn't see the cop, but I was sure that he was really pissed. I could hear him tell Waterman to lower the window when I pushed the joystick forward, leaving the cop standing there in obvious fury. Seconds later the race was on again.

I felt that I had done enough at this point. I didn't want any innocent driver injured or killed so I pulled the car over once again and switched my console off, a huge smile on my face. Turning the truck on once again I drove to the airport and turned it back to the rental agency. If asked I could always justify renting it to transport several desks from a nearby Office Depot to my office. That was exactly what I had done earlier in the day. Now I drove to the office where I went to my desk to obliterate any evidence of the programs I had written from my desktop computer. Then I went out to dinner to plan ahead for my future as a single man.

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When I was in the shared office suite we had a secretary and mail facility that each office shared. Running the mail room was a real responsibility, making sure that each office was properly billed for anything shipped from the suite. That service was manned by a young black man named Chester. I had seen some of the other business owners treat him badly, but I had always taken the time to speak to him and compliment him on the job he did. Chet and I became friendly and I took advantage of that friendship earlier in the week.

Chet lived in Roosevelt, a predominantly black community, many of whom were poor. He had told me several times that he could score some drugs if I was interested. I wasn't at the time, but I asked Her to come through for me on Tuesday morning. We met on Wednesday for lunch—my treat—and I paid him handsomely for the favor. "Make sure to keep your fingerprints and DNA off the bottle, John." I agreed as I took the paper bag from him and slid $3,500 across the table in exchange.

"Thanks, Chet—you're a real friend. I'll be careful--in fact I have a couple pairs of exam gloves in my car. I can't get her boss's prints, but I can rub the bottle against the steering wheel so his DNA is on it. Enough of this, let's enjoy our meal." And we did, Chet telling me how much I had been missed. He also told me that his wife was pregnant with their first child. I wished him the very best of luck even as I felt terrible jealousy for the normalcy of his relationship.

I had dropped the plastic prescription bottle in the door bin after rubbing it vigorously into the plush leather steering wheel. No fingerprints, unfortunately, but plenty of DNA to incriminate the bastard. I had thought to frame Daisy with some cocaine, too, but I just couldn't. I was dumping her for the second time and that was enough.

I returned to my home sometime around eight that evening, going immediately to the shower, seemingly to await the arrival of my spouse-to-be. I did try phoning her cell several times, but both calls went to voicemail. My first just asked where she was—I hadn't expected her to be so late. The second was a lot more frantic. It was a Friday so I could have stayed up late. Instead, I fell asleep easily, making up for all of the sleep I'd missed out on during the week.