Death Under the Lilacs Read Online Free

They make them now the size of a medium coin,” Rocco said. “We would track the train with planes and helicopters from a suitable safe distance and have guys with you with radios. When the drop was made it would be an easy matter to follow the perp.”
    â€œAnd if he suspects that scenario and changes containers?”
    â€œWe also use marked money,” Norbert said.
    â€œAnd asks for tens and twenties equally distributed from several Federal Reserve districts? If he orders that the bills are to be old money and not in sequence?” Lyon suggested.
    â€œThey all make mistakes, Lyon,” Rocco insisted. “Somewhere along the line he or she will make a mistake and we’ll get them.”
    The phone sounded shrilly in the crowded room. They froze in position. Rocco arched his eyebrow toward Lyon and nodded toward the phone. Lyon took two hesitant steps and picked up the receiver.
    â€œWentworth here.”
    â€œI’ve got her.”
    The voice was inhuman in its pitch and tone. It resembled something manufactured as it spoke in a vibrato that only faintly resembled human speech.
    â€œWho are you?” Lyon clenched the receiver. “Where is my wife, damn it!”
    â€œSafe and sound for the time being, Wentworth. She’ll live as long as you follow instructions.”
    â€œWhat instructions? What do you want?”
    â€œYou’ll find out. I just wanted you to know who has her.”
    â€œWho?”
    A laugh that sounded more like the whine of machinery. “I know you’ve called the cops, Wentworth, and it doesn’t make any difference. Remember, follow the instructions or she dies … painfully.”
    The phone clicked, and the dial tone hummed in Lyon’s ear.
    â€œIs that some sort of machine or what?” an incredulous voice asked from the rear of the room.
    â€œWhat about the trace?” Rocco snapped.
    â€œI’m getting it,” the officer with the earphones said as he talked in a low voice over his headset.
    â€œPlay that damn call back,” Norbert ordered the officer at the recorder.
    â€œYes, sir.” He rapidly pushed the “rewind” button and in a few seconds the “play” button. The hollow, inhuman voice began again.
    â€œI’ve got her,” it repeated, and the short conversation continued until the sound of the dial tone again filled the room.
    â€œHow in the hell did he disguise his voice like that?” Norbert asked.
    â€œA voice box,” Lyon said.
    â€œA what?” Norbert asked impatiently.
    â€œA voice box,” Lyon repeated. “I’m sure there’s a scientific name for them. You’ve seen them. Cancer patients who have their vocal cords excised learn to speak with them.”
    Several men in the room who had heard the devices in use nodded assent.
    â€œWe’ll put a trace on that too,” Norbert said. “There can’t be but a few medical supply houses who carry an item like that.”
    â€œWhat about the damn trace?” Rocco asked.
    â€œI’ve got it, sir. A pay telephone on Route 154 near the entrance to I-95.”
    Norbert and Rocco jostled each other as they bent to examine the map and establish the exact location of the phone. Captain Norbert found it first and placed a finger on the spot, which was near the Connecticut shoreline. “Here it is. That’s near the Westbrook Barracks. Get me a phone.”
    A phone was thrust in the state police captain’s hand. He spoke rapidly to the dispatcher at the barracks and handed the phone back to the technician.
    â€œWell?” Rocco asked.
    â€œThey’re on their way,” Norbie announced. “It’s a silent run and they’ll approach the box from two directions.”
    â€œWhat about the highway?” Lyon asked.
    â€œIf he’s already on the Interstate, there’s nothing we can do to stop him without a vehicle or personal description. We can only