Sometimes it was good to have contacts. Especially contacts with certain acquaintances within one or more Federal agencies. Standing beside a tall chimney jutting up from the steeply angled roofline of a large house, he held the phone to one ear and listened in silence. The voice on the other end of the phone spoke in short, clipped sentences done in a monotone voice. With not a note of what one might call friendliness in the voice. Almost robotic in nature. But it didn’t matter to Smitty. The call was strictly business to begin with. He didn’t expect a friendly chat. Earlier in the week he made a call back to that certain acquaintance who lived and worked in Washington D.C. A call with two specific questions to be asked. He was listening as some minor officer sitting at the overnight desk
