Chapter Eleven

Pest Control

They both put on a happy face when they came through Peter's front door. "Hey, honey," Peter called as he walked in, already pulling off his jacket. Nora followed, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey, Elizabeth," she greeted, seeing the woman at the table. "Thanks for the invite." She moved to look at the food set up at the table. "Huh, foie gras," she noted. Foie Gras was the liver of a goose or duck that was basically force fed corn with a feeding tube. It's cholesterol content was one of the highest of any food that exists.

"Yeah, I have a lot of it," Elizabeth explained excitedly as Peter came over to join them. "I want you guys to try this one first." She pointed to one of the dishes in the front.

"Looks great," Peter said, digging in.

"I haven't had time to try them, but they look good." Peter shoved one in his mouth. Nora wasn't as confidant, based on what she'd seen, and nibbled at one cautiously. It was terrible.

Peter was making a face like a child forced to eat his brussel sprouts. "Ugh," he groaned. When he saw Elizabeth's crestfallen face, he tried to back peddle. "Oh, yeah. Delicious."

No one was convinced.

"Okay, that's why I wanted to invite Nora," she huffed.

"Why, because she's good liar?" he argued, mouth still full.

"No, because she appreciates fine cuisine."

"Which this is not," Nora admitted. "No one could lie that well." Peter started wiping his tongue off with a napkin, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.

Disappointed, Elizabeth picked up one of the squares they had tried and gave it a sniff. Her nose crinkled. "Oh, yeah, that does smell bad. Thank God you guys tried it first." Nora and Peter shared a look, Peter still making faces as he tried to get rid of the aftertaste. "Okay, this caterer is off my list." She sat down and started writing in her notebook.

"Who was the other unfortunate guinea pig?" Peter asked.

"No one."

"Why are there two coffee cups on the table." Nora glanced down. He was right.

"Oh, I made coffee for the cable guy," she explained. "It went out this morning, so he came by to fix it." Nora's eyes narrowed.

"They got someone out here fast," Nora noted. Perhaps it was paranoia, but something about it make Nora suspicious.

Peter shot a look at Nora briefly, then back to Elizabeth. "When did you call them?"

"Actually, they called me." Nora's stomach sank. That was a huge red flag. "They accidentally cut a power line down the street." Peter again glanced over to Nora, brow furrowed, starting to have the same misgivings she was. "They were fixing the cable, so they sent someone. I thought it was a little strange too, but I actually asked the neighbors, and their cable went out as well." Peter picked up the phone. "Why? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer. Nora looked over his shoulder as he attempted to redial the number. It rang for a moment. "The number have dialed is not-" Peter clicked the end button.

He grabbed Elizabeth's pen and notebook and wrote only one word, great big in the middle of the page, underlining it for emphasis. 'Bug.' Nora nodded somberly. Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. Peter motioned for them to keep talking.

Nora, not missing a beat, sat down and started making small talk. "So, uh, where's the gala your new client's hosting?"

"It's… It's at the Met. It's next week." She was having trouble focusing, casting worried glances over her shoulder as Peter fiddled with the cable box.

"I love the Met," Nora mused. "They have this fantastic Matisse I've always admired. It's on the second floor, right near the fire exit." She sighed wistfully.

Peter found the bug, and the conversation died. Nora grabbed the notebook. 'What now?' she wrote.

"Now?" Peter huffed. "Now I am pissed off." He sat the bug on the floor and smashed it under his heel.

Worried there might be more bugs, they moved their conversation outside. "You suspected something the moment she mentioned the cable guy," Peter said. Sometimes she forgot just how perceptive he could be. "What aren't you telling me? Is it Fowler?"

"I don't wanna talk about it here," she dodged. The last thing they needed was for Fowler to know that she was on to his pet judge.

"And there could be more inside?" Elizabeth asked softly, voice edged with panic.

Peter sighed. "I'll take care of it."

"You can't go through the normal channels," Nora reminded him. "OPR has too much reach inside the bureau."

"What do you suggest?"

"I know a cleaning guy," she offered with a sly smile. "Does a great job on my place." If Peter was surprised by that revelation, he didn't show it.

"No way. Not him."

"Honey, we have to put a stop to this," Elizabeth insisted.

"Alright, fine," Peter relented. "Call your guy. But I want someone I can trust watching him, in case he... whatever he does."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "In case he… In case he what?"

"He's… odd," Peter explained.

"In a good way," Nora assured her.

That clearly didn't clear things up for Elizabeth. "Who is this guy?"


Half an hour later, after sending Nora out to walk Satchmo, El answered a knock on the door. The little guy stood on the other side, smiling like a kid in a candy shop. "Mrs. Suit, I take it," he greeted.

El was too baffled to respond. "Honey, this is..." Peter started.

"The cleaner," he supplied.

"What, are you selling vacuums?" El teased.

The little guy scoffed. "I do not take your assumption as an affront, but as vindication of my ability to blend in." Peter and El were speechless. The little guy seemed even stranger than the last time they met. He let himself in and started unpacking the case he'd brought with him.

"So, uh… what are you doing?" El asked.

"He's taking care of our bug problem," Peter explained as he watched the little guy rifle through the case. "Is that a night-vision spotting scope?"

"Oh, $50. Russian military surplus."

"Why do you have it?"

The little guy glanced back at Peter. "Well, the real question is, why don't you?" He pulled up an antenna attached to a box-shaped device and wandered off, running the antenna over everything in his path.

Elizabeth took a moment to recover herself. "Well, in any case, we really appreciate your help."

There was another knock on the door. Peter opened it. "Hey, Jones," he greeted.

"Hey."

"Thanks for coming."

"Yeah."

"Alright, listen," Peter muttered, clapping Jones on the shoulder. "That's him. Make sure Elizabeth is safe."

"You got it."

The back door opened, and Nora came in with a happy Satchmo. "Hey, Moz," she greeted brightly. As a greeting, he ran the antenna over Nora, and she looked at him oddly.

"Clean," he announced.

"Thanks, Nora, for walking Satch." Elizabeth said as she took Satch's leash from Nora, still trying to keep a tight lid on her nerves.

"Yeah, any time."

"So, um… You sure he won't try anything?" El asked. They watched as Moz dipped a finger in the gross food and tasted it.

"Do you have any rare paintings or coins?" Nora countered.

"No."

"Then you'll be okay."

"Is this Gorham silverware?" Mozzie called from the kitchen. "It's rather unique." Nora looked toward the kitchen in disdain.

"Maybe you should keep an eye on him," she allowed.

"Yeah."

"Ooh, a Baccarat vase," Mozzie mused. At a glance from Peter, Jones went to shadow Mozzie, making sure he didn't get up to any mischief.

"Well, I don't know what case you guys are working on," Elizabeth said tightly, "but wrap it up fast, okay?" She handed Peter his jacket. "Come on, Satch."

"See you, buddy," Nora cooed after the dog.

"Think they'll be okay here?" Peter asked.

"Okay," they heard Elizabeth sigh from the kitchen, "I don't think he bugged the dog."

"Amateur," Mozzie scoffed.

Nora was still making that odd face, like even she was put off by how eccentric her little buddy was acting. "I don't want to stick around to find out," she decided.

Peter smirked. "Me either." His expression grew more serious. "Besides," he continued, voice low, "you have some explaining to do."