Thirty-Nine
WE ARRIVE AT THE PRESIDENT’S Mansion just before 8 p.m. that night. The gate is open and we drive through. Gladys is driving, while Dan, Helen, Nate and I are crowded in the back. Nate and Gladys did a wonderful job outfitting The Mystery Machine as a mobile outpost to monitor and record what happens inside. There are six monitors and all other sorts of equipment—somehow, Nate and Gladys figured out how to hack into the Mansion’s surveillance cameras, so Helen will have full coverage of what’s going on inside.
I have my Rosary out and begin praying silently as Gladys parks her van near the portico. She switches out her regular glasses for an identical pair that are fitted with a camera and microphone. She gets out of the van seat and into her chair as usual and uses the lift
