Shopping for Shoes
Abby met him at the airport and in the bar he told her everything that had happened. She was frightened and close to tears, but neither of them could see any way out. They couldn't just run away and they couldn't do nothing. Even while they were talking Mitch saw a tall, fair-haired man with a moustache at the bar whom he remembered from the hotel in Washington. They were following him all the time.
Tarrance didn't wait long. A week after Mitch returned to Memphis, about the same time that 'Doris' got in contact, Tarrance met him as he was walking back from a meeting and suggested they turn into a shoe shop together, to get off the street. He started to say that it was time for Mitch to decide what to do, but he suddenly stopped.
'What is it?' Mitch demanded.
'I just saw someone walk by the shop and look in at us. Listen carefully, Mitch. We'll walk out together, and as soon as we're outside, you push me away and shout at me. Then run in the direction of the office.'
Mitch did exactly as Tarrance suggested. As soon as he got back to the Bendini Building he went to Avery Tolleson's office and reported that the same FBI agent had contacted him again. By the time they got to Locke's office, Lambert and McKnight were there as well.
He pretended to be frightened and upset, and demanded to know why the FBI had now contacted him twice. Lambert told him the same story as before. Mitch hardly heard him; he watched his lips moving and thought of Kozinski and Hodge and their families. Then Locke asked him what had happened today.
'Tarrance pushed me into the shoe shop. I tried to run away, but Tarrance followed me and grabbed me. I pushed him away and ran back here. That's all that happened. What shall I do?'
'Nothing, Mitch,' said Lambert. 'Just stay away from this Tarrance. If he even looks at you, report it to us immediately.'
'That's what he did,' said Avery.
Mitch tried to look as pitiful as possible.
'You can go, Mitch,' Lambert said.
***
'He's lying. I'm sure he's lying,' DeVasher said. They were all in DeVasher's office.
'What did your man see?' asked Locke.
'Something slightly different, but at the same time very different, you know? He says McDeere and Tarrance walked together into the shoe shop. He didn't see Tarrance grab McDeere. They're in the shop for a couple of minutes. Our man walks by and looks inside. Next minute they're fighting on the street. Something isn't right, I tell you.'
The partners thought for a while. Finally, Oliver Lambert said, 'Look, DeVasher, it's possible that McDeere is telling the truth and that your man got the wrong signals. You don't know of any contact since last August.'
'No, but we can't watch anybody absolutely all the time. We didn't know about those other two until it was almost too late.'
'But because you don't know of any recent contact, you shouldn't doubt what McDeere's saying.'
'I'm not sure,' said DeVasher. 'I think McDeere and I should have a little talk.'
'About what?' Lambert asked nervously.
'Just leave it to me. If you fools were in charge of security we'd all be in prison by now. Lazarov is getting really worried, but he thinks he can get someone in the FBI to talk. Then we'll know whether McDeere is lying.'
***
Mitch was alone in his office late that night when a short, fat man walked in. 'My name's DeVasher,' he said.
'What can I do for you?' Mitch asked.
'You can listen for a while. I'm in charge of security for the firm-'
'Why does the firm need security?' Mitch asked.
'Bendini was crazy about security. Anyway, we believe the FBI are trying to get a man inside the firm to help in their investigations of some of our clients. It's important that you tell us whenever they attempt to make contact with you.'
'Yes, I already know that.'
Suddenly DeVasher was smiling evilly. 'I brought something with me to show you,' he said. 'Something that will keep you honest.' He reached inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope.
Mitch opened it nervously. Inside were four photographs, black and white, very clear. On the beach. The girl.
'Oh, my God! Who took these?' Mitch shouted at him.
'What difference does that make?'
Mitch tore the photographs up and let the pieces fall on to his desk.
'We've got plenty more upstairs,' DeVasher said calmly. 'We don't want to use them, but if we catch you talking to Mr Tarrance or some other FBI agent, we'll send them to your wife. How would you like that, Mitch? The next time you and Tarrance decide to shop for shoes, think about us, Mitch. Because we'll be watching.'
by John Grisham