I punched in the code and Edwin Gilderstone’s voice angrily shrieked to call him right away.It was after midnight in New York, but Gilderstone sounded way too alert and poised to have been sleeping. I said, “Hi, Ed, it’s Drummond.”He instantly screamed, “You lying bastard!”“That’s me,” I admitted, though I was sure my parents would’ve sternly objected to my conceding that second point.“You promised this was just between us.”“And so it is, Ed. I haven’t said a word to anyone, not even my co-counsels. What’s the problem?”“The problem? What’s the damned problem? I’m being followed.”“Followed by who?”“I don’t know. When people are trailing you, they don’t walk up and say,‘Hi, I’m John Smith from CID and I’ll be following you the next few days,’ do they?”“So you think it’s CID?” I asked.“I just told you I don’t know who they are. Aren’t you listening?”“I’m listening, Ed. I’m just trying to sort through this. What makes you think you’re being followed?”There was a brief pause and I could hear him draw in a deep breath, like he was trying to compose himself.
