clothes were resort wear: light-colored slacks and golf
shirts, also after a couple of days for tailoring a royal-blue
jacket. Chandler sent up similar things for Nevada. Nevada accepted
them, knowing he could not venture downstairs in the hotel in jeans
and a buckskin shirt.
On Friday Jonas placed a telephone call to Phil Wallace in
Washington. Phil answered and could understand him, so Jonas knew the
descrambler was in place.
"Somehow I guess," said Phil, "that you're not really
in Mexico City."
"You guess right. How much heat is on?"
"Well, you're not on the Ten Most Wanted List, but if your
whereabouts is discovered you'll be served with the subpoena. A
couple of senators are pissed. Counsel for the committee is pissed."
"And the competitors who want my ass are pissed," said
Jonas. "I don't give a damn."
"Monica is pissed," said Phil. "She called and
demanded to know where you are. Demanded. She said she knew damned
well you're not in Mexico City."
"Monica's not stupid."
"You didn't order a descrambler for her."
"The only reason would be to tell her where I am, and I don't
want to do that, not yet anyway. I'm not sure she could hold out if
they pressured her to talk."
"You got a problem there. Monica's not just a
little pissed. She's big pissed. She's going to New York."
"Well, she's got her job in New York. She travels to New York —
"
"She's taking Jo-Ann with her."
"Jo-Ann's in school. She — "
"She's taking her out of school, transferring her credits to
some school in the East."
"I'll take care of the Monica problem. Don't worry about it."
"I'm not. I'm just telling you what she said."
"Okay. You want to know where I am?"
"If I need to know. Otherwise I don't. I've told people I don't
know. I'd like to continue doing that."
"Do you mind passing along some orders?"
"Not at all."
Jonas stood looking down on the swimming pool, convinced now the man
who had brought the telescope to the suite had brought it to do some
plain and fancy girl watching. Two-piece bathing suits were in style,
and some of the girls around the pool were spectacular. Looking at
them made a man horny.
"Okay," he said to Phil. "I want some people to join
me. I'd like to have Sheila." He meant his personal and private
executive secretary, in the Los Angeles office. "But I'm afraid
that, apart from Monica, she's the one person they might follow.
Besides, she's got a child, and I can't ask her to leave it."
"Do you want her to know where you are?"
"No. I want her to communicate through you. As my lawyer, you
have privileged communication with me. No. The guys I want to join me
are Buzz Dalton from Inter-Continental, Clint McClintock from Cord
Electronics, Bill Shaw from Cord Aircraft, and Len Douglas from Cord
Explosives."
"I get you," said Phil. "Second-level men from each
company. None of your top executives."
"Bright, knowledgeable young fellows," said Jonas. "None
with family obligations that would prevent their spending some time
with me. Tell them to bring along the paper about pending stuff.
They'll know what that is."
"Okay, but where do they go?"
"Make notes," said Jonas. "They come one at a time.
Dalton first, Shaw next, then McClintock, then Douglas. On Tuesdays
and Thursdays at noon there's a flight from Mexico City to where I
am. It does not go from the Benito Juarez International Airport.
They'll have to get to the Tialpan Airport. A sixteen-passenger De
Havilland comes in about noon. Tell them to identify themselves to
the agent that comes with the De Havilland. From that point they can
relax. They'll be brought to me. Tell them to bring summer-weight
clothes. They'll only need one suit. Do I have to tell them not to
talk to the people they meet?"
"It sounds like you're settling in for a long stay," said
Phil.
"Long enough to screw the bastards that are trying to screw me,"
said Jonas.
3
Jonas quickly grew bored with living in the suite. He could only call
the offices that had installed the descramblers.
The Day Of The Triffids (v2) [htm]