“The same evening as Mr. Tichnor lay in the hospital, Mrs. Tichnor showed up where the Chinese princess was playing a charity benefit for the Manhattan Friends of Chamber Music. Dressed in an evening gown, she casually made her way through the social upper crust of New York. After chatting with various people and sipping champagne, she approached the other woman, who had just taken her place for the evening’s featured event. No one was paying much attention. She said a few words to the princess, which no one heard and the princess said she couldn’t remember. She grabbed the violin from the woman’s hands—a violin worth a quarter of a million, which thankfully my company didn’t insure—and swung it like a baseball bat. She hit the princess hard enough to knock her out of her chair. In the turmoil that followed she calmly walked out and disappeared.”
It took every ounce of concentration to keep my eyes closed. Dunphy said, “You getting all this, Mr. Jones?”
I didn’t respond. I was getting all of it, even the parts I could barely stand to hear. Claire had a temper. The temper troubled me. Welper was right, Claire’s temper was of the worst variety—cool and methodical. Returning the gun to Walt had been a damn good idea. There had to be another reason why she knocked the princess out of the park, especially in front of so many witnesses, not that she needed another reason. Either way, Claire’s temper was a good reason for Welper to fear for the safety of the cello.
According to Welper, Claire had taken the keys to the husband’s practice studio in a secure building. Probably on the way to the hospital. People at the building had been used to seeing her.
“The next day, while the husband was in the hospital and the princess was recovering from largely superficial head wounds, no one knew the cello was missing. She had given herself a head start. Mrs. Tichnor disappeared. She had been smart enough to use her employer’s account to buy a plane ticket to Denver. Four hours before departure. In her own name. She was also smart enough to make it round-trip. Ever since 9/11, one-way tickets have been scrutinized. One-way tickets are the first to get attention.”
Dunphy asked, “Why did Mrs. Tichnor come to Utah?”
Welper answered that he had no idea. The husband said she had made the trip at least once before. Mr. Tichnor didn’t know why. At the time they were going through the divorce and were not on speaking terms.
“How did she get the cello out here?”
“We don’t know that either. We weren’t even certain she had the cello with her here.” Welper glanced at me. “An accomplice maybe. She’s a loner. No family or close friends. It’s not like she could just put a twenty-million-dollar cello in an envelope and mail it to herself. We checked all the high-value transport companies. Until Mr. Jones here, we thought she might have even destroyed it. Its size makes it bulky. I don’t think her plan was to demand payment for its return. It doesn’t really matter. She’s here now. Or was. And she has the cello.”
Dunphy asked to see the police report. Welper fumbled with his glasses and took his time responding. When he did, the answer surprised me. It also surprised Dunphy.
“What do you mean a report was never filed? How can a twenty-million-dollar cello get stolen and a police report not get filed?”
“The consensus was we had a better chance at recovery if we kept the police out of it. This was not a professional theft. It was the result of a domestic dispute. If it was just about money the cello would have been safer in the hands of a pissed-off ex-wife.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I agreed. That’s also the way the princess and her father wanted it. So did Mr. Tichnor.”
Dunphy raised his voice. “And yet, Mr. Welper, here we are. Just mushrooms. Kept in the dark and fed shit.”
Welper didn’t have a response. The expression on Dunphy’s face told him that no response was best.
“Just so I’m clear, no reports on the theft or poisoning? Or the assault?”
Welper nodded.
“So you and your company just thought you’d show up out here in Utah and do whatever you damn well pleased. Is that about it?”
Welper said he had notified the Price police, who had been cooperating.
“They should have known better,” Dunphy said. “They might not have been so cooperative if you had been more forthcoming with the details.”
“Mr. Jones acted suspiciously, so we assumed he was involved. I still think he is. I think the cello is still in Utah, along with Mrs. Tichnor.”
“What constitutes suspicious behavior in your world?”
“Same as in your world, Captain. When someone doesn’t act the way he might rationally be expected to behave.”
Dunphy ordered me to open my eyes.
Welper had produced a photograph of my distressed motorist, Carrie. “You recognize her?”
I asked if I could get my wallet out. I tossed the photo Howard Purvis had taken across the table next to the captain.
“She flagged me down on 191,” I said. “She wasn’t dressed like a working girl. Just the opposite. She was very friendly. I declined her friendliness. Another truck driver had seen her. He happened to see her downtown the next day and took this photo just in case. We thought maybe she was setting me up for a hijack.”
Captain Dunphy said, “You hired a prostitute to get close to Mr. Jones? And when that didn’t work you assumed he was acting suspiciously?”
For the first time Welper got his blood up. “Ms. Delacroix is not a prostitute. She’s a trained field investigator. Mr. Jones claimed he had a wife and kids at home. He was very convincing. Ms. Delacroix said she almost believed him. Yes, I’d call that suspicious behavior. Why would a single red-blooded American male walk away from an attractive opportunity if he wasn’t hiding something? Especially a truck driver?”
“He just told you. What Mr. Jones isn’t saying is something you wouldn’t understand anyway. Right now the only person who looks bad here is you, Mr. Welper. Now tell me about the television producer.”
“When Mr. Jones wasn’t interested in Ms. Delacroix, we had to come up with another plan on short notice. Once again he acted suspiciously. We asked for and received the cooperation of the freight company.” Welper added, “It took some convincing, but Jones went for it.”
I said, “Yeah, I’m stupid and gullible. On the other hand, I have a couple grand and you have nothing. I’m curious—was Bob Fulwiler in on that?”
Welper smiled. “No. We set that up through corporate. He was easier than you. It was almost sad how enthusiastic he was. Not like you. We couldn’t understand why a truck driver wouldn’t jump at a chance to be a reality television star. Again, unless he had something to hide. And you certainly acted like you had something to hide. Josh practically had to beg you to let him ride along with you. Even then you kept him in your truck most of the time.”
Dunphy was running on an empty patience tank with Welper. He was fighting his disgust and fatigue by taking longer pauses between questions, carefully choosing his words. “I know exactly why Ben here didn’t want to be on television. It’s pretty much the same reason any decent human being with an ounce of self-respect and a normal desire for privacy would have. There are some people who don’t yearn to be celebrities by flying their laundry for a camera. The reason you think it’s suspicious doesn’t have anything to do with being an insurance investigator. It has everything to do with who you are.”
Dunphy’s disgust was tinged toward anger. “You roll into Utah and set up shop. You have a prostitute—excuse me, field investigator—take a run at Mr. Jones. When he declines, that makes him seem suspicious. You follow that by dangling some asinine reality show. When he doesn’t want to open up his life for the entertainment of millions of viewers, he’s even more suspicious.”
The captain abruptly stood. “You’re free to go, Ben.” Then to Welper, “And I’d like to tell you what you’re free to do. Instead I’ll just tell you you’re free to go as well. As long as it’s out of Utah. And take your field agents with you. When and if a stolen property report is filed, gi
ve us a call. Long distance.”
I wasn’t waiting to be asked again. I was up and moving with no intention of slowing down for any parting pleasantries.
Dennis was on his way back to New York with the cello. At least I hoped he was. I was eager to see if Claire had stayed behind. With the divorce and the girlfriend, the odds that she would be waiting for me seemed better than ever. Besides Claire’s temper, the biggest surprise was that she had led me to believe the divorce wasn’t final. The only reason she might lead me to think otherwise was to keep me at a distance. Maybe she knew in her heart that even though the divorce was done, she and Dennis weren’t. They would always have unfinished business. The cello was just the box where they kept it.
Welper didn’t move from his chair. “I can’t leave without Mr. Arrons.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Dunphy grabbed my arm. “Not so quick, Ben.”
Welper’s voice was soft, almost resigned. “I can’t. I won’t. My son-in-law is missing. I’m afraid he’s gotten in over his head.”
“What’s your son-in-law got to do with this?”
“My son-in-law is Josh Arrons.” Welper was suddenly uncomfortable. “He’s not exactly a trained investigator.”
Dunphy sighed. “What exactly is he?”
“A cello maker. A luthier. I invited him along because I thought he might be useful in identifying the del Gesù cello. He was supposed to stay put in Price at the Holiday Inn and wait until we called him. When Ms. Delacroix failed, we had to put something else together in a hurry. He was available. I thought it would be safe enough. If he’d done just what he was supposed to it would have been. Unfortunately, he took matters into his own hands.”
Dunphy was unmoved. “Missing is not the same as kidnapping or homicide. File a missing-person report. Or maybe you’d prefer to keep the police out of it. As usual.”
“I’ll do whatever I need to do. Please. I’m afraid he’s been the victim of some kind of foul play. Forcefully detained. Badly hurt. Even murdered.”
“I think you’re overreacting. Why would he take off on his own?”
Welper sent a grim nod in my direction. “If Mr. Jones hadn’t turned Ms. Delacroix down, Mr. Arrons wouldn’t have been involved. She’d never failed before. She certainly never failed with someone like Jones. Packed up her wounded pride and left town in a huff. So we improvised with the reality show story. I was in Logan running down another lead when Josh got the idea to follow Mr. Jones. By the time I got back, Josh had rented a Jeep in Moab. He left me a note at the hotel. Probably because he didn’t want me to stop him. The note said he was going to follow Mr. Jones.”
“What day was that?”
“He rented the Jeep on Friday. The note was written early Saturday morning. No word from him since the note.”
Dunphy said, “Ben?”
“He was in one of those fire-engine-red Moab rental Jeeps,” I said. “Hard to miss. But I don’t know where he is now. I kind of liked the guy. Those Jeeps usually have homing beacons in them. Check the rental company.”
“Did that first thing this morning,” Welper said. “He rented the Jeep for a week. The beacon must have malfunctioned. They aren’t getting a signal. Maybe it’s been disconnected.”
Dunphy was out of patience. “File your report. It hasn’t even been seventy-two hours. If he hasn’t shown up in another day or two, I’ll authorize the search. That’s the best I can do.”
Welper wasn’t about to leave it alone. He was begging. “Can’t you start the search tonight? I’ll pick up the bill. Every penny. Overtime. Whatever it takes. Whatever your opinion of me, just put it aside. Money is no object.”
Dunphy said, “Mr. Welper, of the few certainties I’ve come across in life, one of them is that when a person says money is no object, the opposite is most likely true. Money is the only object—or will be.”
“If you can get the ball rolling, I’ll write a check right now.”
Dunphy was still on top of his game. “You seem to be in a big hurry. It makes me think there’s something you haven’t told me. I’m giving you one chance. What is it?”
This was not a time to hold back. Welper didn’t, though he took his time getting started. “I was confident Jones would have some answers. I still think he knows more than he’s saying. It doesn’t seem like I’m going to get any more. Now I’m worried.”
“About what? Be specific,” Dunphy asked.
“The father of the Chinese princess is a businessman. You know what I mean?”
“You mean he’s a criminal?”
“Yes,” Welper said. “Powerful, slick, and untouchable. From what I hear, methodical and ruthless. He’s not the kind to file a police report. He’s the kind to take back what’s his in his own way. Whatever and whoever it takes. We had a gentleman’s agreement that he’d stay out of it for two weeks. Those two weeks are up. For all I know he’s got his people on the ground here in Utah. With his resources he probably knows as much as I do. Including about Mr. Jones here. Probably more.”
“Why would a cello maker risk getting crosswise with Chinese thugs? And alone at that?” Dunphy knew the answer. He wanted Welper to say it.
“I didn’t tell him about the Chinese thugs. There was no need. He was supposed to stay out of the way. Maybe he would have taken off anyway. I think maybe he wanted to impress me and come home a hero to my daughter. It was stupid.”
“Not as stupid as you’ve been. If he’s found trouble, it will all be on your head.” Dunphy said he’d return in a few minutes, and left the room.
“Does Mrs. Tichnor know about the father’s line of work?” I asked.
There was a lot going on behind Welper’s eyes. “Not at first. Probably now. She’s smart. Everything she’s done has been carefully planned. Why do you care?”
“I just do,” I said. “I care about your son-in-law, too. Probably more than you do. I think what you’re really afraid of is how your daughter will react if harm has come to her husband.”
My concern about Ginny had been growing. Maybe Welper and his crew hadn’t been the only ones watching me. I wasn’t too concerned about Claire. At least her safety. She had Walt and the secret of Desert Home. But Ginny couldn’t say the same. Even if the Chinese weren’t responsible for Ginny’s disappearance, Welper might be, one way or the other. He seemed like the kind of man who might do anything if he convinced himself it was part of his job, even leveraging Ginny to get to me. If he thought I was holding out, or if I’d done something to his son-in-law, he might have taken Ginny as a bargaining chip. She was pregnant. She had no one. She was the only personal link to me that he knew about. Which meant that the father’s camp could have made the connection as well.
“If it’s any consolation,” I said, “I don’t think there are any Chinese poking around 117. There aren’t many people out there. A car full of Chinese would stick out like a sore thumb.”
Welper screwed up his face so I would know he thought I was an idiot. “Don’t you think they would know that? With all the wars going on, the world is filled with highly trained mercenaries. It’s a growth industry. I strongly doubt he’d use Asians for exactly that reason. Men in Han’s position have their own private armies on retainer.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said patiently. “If you’d only lived out there for ten years, you’d still be considered a stranger. The same goes for the town of Rockmuse. They can spot outsiders from a mile away. No matter what color they are. If there are people poking around and asking questions, I’d say there is a better chance they’d be the ones to disappear.”
“That would be the case with Josh as well, wouldn’t it?” he asked.
I didn’t want to admit it. I had to agree that it would.
Welper dropped his chin. He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “Now let me tell you what I think. I think you know a whole lot more than you’ve said. I’m a little off balance because of Josh, but I’m damn good at what I do. You’ve got your former coach ru
nning interference for you. Enjoy it, because it won’t last long. I’ve got cards I haven’t played yet. If you’re between me and Mrs. Tichnor and that cello, you are between the proverbial rock and a hard place. I guarantee you this: you will get crushed. If you’ve had any part in bringing harm to my son-in-law, any part at all, I will come after you. If you have information, now is the time. The last time. Don’t hesitate. Don’t hold back. Do you understand?”
I thought about what he’d said. “I might be able to help with Josh. Not because of you or the cello, or anything else but Josh.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Let me finish,” I said. “You said your piece. Here’s mine. My little friend, as you call her, has been missing for a couple of days. Maybe she’s one of those unplayed cards you just mentioned. You know anything about that?”
“Not a thing,” he said. “I only talked to her that one time.” He sounded convincing. He should have stopped right there. He didn’t. “Kids like that go missing all the time. Drugs. Alcohol. One bad choice after another. Most show up eventually. Some don’t. And when they don’t, it’s not a big loss to society. In fact, sad though it might be, it’s a blessing. Kids like that are a drain on everyone else. My guess is that she’ll show up. Now tell me what you know about Josh.”
It had been quite some time since I’d gone after someone in a blind rage. It took every ounce of self-control I had to keep from going after Welper. I took a few shallow breaths. “Let me tell you about my little friend,” I said. “She’s bright as hell. Sure, she’s made some mistakes. Who hasn’t? But she’s seventeen, homeless, alone, pregnant. She works the night shift. She’s going to college.”
Welper cocked his head to one side. He enjoyed my speech and the anger behind it. To his way of thinking he was gaining the upper hand. “Well,” he said. “I guess I had your little friend all wrong. Make sure I get an invitation when she graduates from Stanford.”
The Never-Open Desert Diner Page 22
