Joe Weiser moved around our desks with an odd-looking device in his hand. He kept waving the hand around vertical and horizontally, checking crevices and dark spaces carefully, his eyes watching the dials on the device intently. Twice it made odd electronic hums. Twice he pointed to the small electronic bugs attached to the base of the phones sitting on our desks.
Me, Frank, and Lt. Yankovich watched in silence. With frowns on our faces. The frowns becoming more severe whenever Joe found another bug.
“That’s six of ’em, boys. Five bugs total. Three in the squad room, one on the lieutenant’s phone, and two underneath the driver’s seat of a couple of your cars, Turner. Hell, this guy is good. Really good. The newest bug the Russians are using. Hardly any signature at all. You really have t
