"Well, he has the skills. And he's a good guy."
"True. I think we should make some cursory inquiries."
"We? This is one of those things you need to delegate. Why not get Marnie on it?"
I nodded. "You're right. I need to call her, anyway. It's been too long since our last check-in early Friday morning."
Carter continued. "You were right, son, when you said it's his risk to assume. Now, do you know what his salary should be?"
I shook my head. "I wonder how much Deladier was paying Captain Jennings?"
"That's probably on the ship."
"Which we can't get to."
"Do you trust him to tell you what his pay should be?"
I nodded. "I can just tell him..."
"No. Let me take care of it. You really don't know how this hiring thing works, do you?"
"Not really. I've had two jobs in my life. One was the Navy, which doesn't count here. And the other was working at the hospital. I don't even remember what my pay was."
Carter smiled wryly. "Well, son, I used to know to the penny what the City and County would be dropping in my pay envelope each time they did."
"You've come a long way."
He crossed his arms. "I don't think I've ever told you, but I've always appreciated the way you told me about your trust just the right way. Not too soon. Although..."
"What?"
"You might have told me at breakfast that day back in '48 before we went to buy your first car."
"Then you would never have known what a mean right hook I have."
The very day I had bought my first new car, we had a fight in front of a Sausalito drugstore and I had punched Carter. It was our only physical fight, which was a good thing considering I was in love with a giant who kept lifting heavier and heavier weights and getting bigger. My ability to deck him was the only skill I had.
Carter smiled his slow Georgia smile. "I still haven't paid you properly for that sucker-punch, son."
I smiled back. "You just let me know how much I still have on account."
"Well, if you have twenty minutes, I know a way you can make a payment."
. . .
I hadn't stayed in a lot of hotels or motels, but I never liked placing a call through the switchboard. Seemed awfully tempting for someone who might be bored enough to listen in. After Carter and I finished our... Well, after we were done, I went out to the street and walked down a block to the first phone booth I saw.
I closed the door behind me, dropped a dime into the machine, and dialed the operator. I asked for long distance and then for Marnie's number.
"One moment."
As I waited I watched the slow-moving Sunday beach traffic on the coastal highway. I had a feeling I was being watched, so I began to look at the ground.
"I'm sorry, sir. That number is not in service."
"Does that mean it's been disconnected?"
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't tell. Should I connect you with San Francisco information?"
"Please."
As I waited, I made motions that looked like I was arguing with someone on the phone and not happy about it. This gave me a good excuse to pivot suddenly when I was ready.
"Information."
"I need a current listing for a Marnie Wilson on San Jose Avenue in San Francisco."
"One moment."
I pivoted suddenly and saw someone in a hat and dark suit duck into the entrance of one of the little shops that were on this block. I did more of my playacting and turned back the other direction.
"I'm sorry sir, that number has been disconnected."
"Was it at the customer's request?"
"I'm afraid I can't give out that information."
I said nothing to see if she would fill in the gap.
"But... I can tell you that no new forwarding number was given."
That meant it was at her request. That was good. I was afraid something might have happened.
"Thank you, operator."
"You're welcome, sir."
I waited for her to disconnect the line. I waited a little longer to make sure everyone was off and then I slammed the receiver on the hook as if I was angry. I banged the door open and began to mutter and shake my head in a disgusted manner. As I reached for a Camel, I caught the same man looking earnestly at the latest dresses in the windows of the shop he had ducked into. He seemed unusually interested at a baby blue skirt and a pink sweater set.
I kept going. To maintain the illusion, I pretended to light the cigarette, finally ripping it out of my mouth, tearing it in half, and dropping it on the sidewalk in mock frustration.
I walked angrily into the parking lot, up the row of cars, and banged on the door of our room. I yelled, "Carter!"
He opened the door in surprise. "What?"
"You know what!" With that, I banged the door closed. I quickly looked to make sure the curtains were drawn closed. They were.
I put my finger over my mouth and continued raving, "I can't stand this anymore. This whole fuckin' mess is driving me crazy. We should just go back to San Francisco. Or better yet, leave the country."
His eyes were wide in surprise and confusion. I motioned at him, as if this was a radio show and he had the next line. He got it.
"Yeah?! Well, you just do that! I'm gonna stay here, boy."
I mouthed. "Hold on." He nodded.
I tried to slap him, but hit his shoulder. He almost laughed as he bent down so I could hit him. This time I made contact and it was loud. I tried to pull the punch.
I mouthed. "Sorry."
He mouthed something back, but it was too complicated to understand. I figured it was something like, "Don't worry, you'll pay for it later," because his eyes were sparkling with mischief.
I motioned for him to talk. "You son of a bitch!"
I picked up the chair and threw it one the ground. He threw over the table. I made a motion with my hand to indicate silence.
I listened carefully. I could hear a woman moving quickly up the walk. "Who are you?" It was Mrs. Kleinberg. Then I heard footsteps moving away quickly. Mrs. Kleinberg yelled, "Wait!"
After a moment or two, she banged loudly on the door. "Mr. Williams?"
I opened the door and motioned for her to come in. After closing the door, I put my finger on my lips and whispered, "I'll explain everything. Just wait a moment. Let's see if he comes back."
Her eyes were full of questions but she simply nodded. We waited. I looked at my watch and let the second hand make a full rotation.
I whispered, "Carter. Why don't you go get Mike?"
He nodded and opened the door. "Don't forget to sulk," I whispered.
He turned to me and said loudly, "Yeah? We'll see about that!" He slammed the door.
I turned to Mrs. Kleinberg. "Sorry about the noise. I don't think we broke anything, but I'll pay for it, if we did."
She shook her head. "Oh my. F.B.I.?"
I laughed. "Why do you ask?"
"His shoes. I can spot them a mile off. Never seen him before, either. And I keep my eye on all the people walking up and down the coastal highway."
She had her arms crossed and was covering her mouth with her hand. She shook her head again.
"Well, I saw him when I was at a payphone. I didn't want to tie up your switchboard."
"I never listen in to customer calls." She looked thoughtful. "Not usually."
I smiled at her.
. . .
I got Mrs. Kleinberg dispatched and on her way back to the front desk. It had been at least ten minutes since Carter had left and I was wondering where he was. I opened the motel room door and looked around. Just as I did that, Mike peeked out the door of his room and asked, "All clear?"
I nodded and motioned for him to come over. I stepped back in the room and closed the door to wait.
Pretty soon there was a single knock. Mike opened the door and slipped inside.
"What was that all about?"
"Someone was tailing me s
o Carter and I put on a show for him. Mrs. Kleinberg caught him listening at the door, bless her. She said he was F.B.I."
"How would she know?"
"That's a long story. If she thought he was, he probably was. She said it was the shoes."
"If she knows what to look for, she wouldn't be wrong." He looked around the room. "Where's Carter?"
"He was supposed to go get you. But he's gone. I'm thinking he saw the guy and is tracking him."
"You wanna go see if we can follow?" Mike liked a good cops and robbers chase.
I shook my head. "Let's stay in place so he can find us." He nodded. "Meanwhile, I have another problem."
"What?"
"Marnie's missing."
Chapter 8
Trail's End Motel
Sunday, May 30, 1953
Mid-morning
"She's not really missing. I just can't find her."
"I don't understand." Mike looked confused.
"Marnie told me right before we went to Ensenada that she and her mother were being evicted from their apartment. It's being torn down to make way for a freeway. The last time we talked about it, I told her to move in to the St. Francis on my dime. I intend to buy my sister's house from the Williams Foundation and then rent it to her." The Williams Benevolent Foundation had been created in '49 when the California State Supreme Court had handed down their final ruling on my family's lawsuits challenging my inheritance. They'd essentially told the family to get over it. Once I knew it was mine, I followed some very good advice and handed over half to some very smart people who now ran this foundation.
"Only thing is, Jeffery hasn't been around to do that. Besides it will probably take a while for her estate to go through probate."
Mike nodded. "Now I get you. She's already left her apartment and you don't know where she went."
"Right. So, while I wait here for Carter, could you go get on the horn and track her down? Start with my answering service. If they don't know, try the St. Francis. If she's not there..."
"I'll just try the old tried and true method of calling each hotel until I find her."
"I hope you don't have to do that."
"Look. I'm ready to get back to work. Sure it's routine stuff, but at least it's work. I need to do something." He scratched the back of his head. "Bud and I are spending a little bit too much time together, if you get my drift."
I nodded and smiled. "I think we're gonna hire O'Reilly, by the way. That's something else you could do. Get his references and check them out. Oh, and when you're making all these calls, bill them to the office. You know the number?"
"Prospect 7777. What do I tell Marnie when I find her?"
"Tell her to call me, damn it!"
. . .
I hate to sit by the phone, so I never do it. I usually go somewhere and do something, but there was nowhere to go and nothing to do. If I'd been at home, I would have been cleaning the stove, taking it apart, and putting it back together again. But here, there was nothing to do but wait. So I sat at the table, looked out the window at nothing, and waited. This was the first time I ever thought that having a television might be useful. Not that there would be anything playing right now and who knew if the town even had a station.
Finally, the door opened and there stood Carter. He came in, shut the door, closed the curtains, threw his hat on the bed, shed his coat on the floor, and stood over me. "Get up."
I did that. He pulled me in and hugged me fiercely. "I love you so much, Nicholas Williams." He kissed me like he hadn't done in a long time, taking several moments to kiss each part of my face. He even reached down and pulled my head back so he could nuzzle my neck. I'll admit it. I goddam cooed.
I didn't say anything because I didn't want it to end. Eventually, he stepped back and wiped his mouth off with the back of his shirtsleeve.
I shook my head to clear out the violins and asked, "What happened?"
"I followed him."
"Where did you go?"
"Nowhere. I followed him down the coastal highway for almost a mile until he jumped into a Ford and took off. I don't think he knew I was following him. But, there was something..." Carter looked pensive.
"What?"
"I don't know but I think I recognized him. It can't be who I think it was. But, then again..." Carter pinched his mouth and began to frown.
"Did you get the license plate number?"
"No. But wouldn't have done any good anyway."
"Why not?" I asked.
"U.S. government tag."
I nodded. "Then he was F.B.I."
Carter was still frowning and didn't answer.
"You OK?" I asked.
"Sure." He wasn't but I let it pass. He would tell me when he was ready.
I filled him in on what I'd given Mike to do. Carter said, "That's what I meant. Proud of you, son."
I smiled. "Carter Jones." My mouth was getting dry. "I don't know why, but..."
He nodded and began to slowly take off his tie with a very specific look on his face. I walked over to the side of the window and began to close the curtains.
. . .
About an hour later, Carter was dressed and I was putting on my shoes, when there was a knock on the door.
Carter walked over to open it. Mike was there, looking all business, and had a notebook in his hand.
"So, you made it back alive?" was Mike's opening remark.
Carter nodded. "Yeah. Nothing much happened."
"Nick around?"
"OK. Enough." I really, truly was getting tired of that joke.
Mike sat down in one of the chairs at the table. "So, what happened?"
I said, "He got into a government car."
Mike looked over at Carter. "Did the plate start with a 'J'?"
Carter nodded.
I asked, "What does that mean?"
"Department of Justice. Definitely F.B.I."
I looked down at Mike's notebook. "What did you find out about Marnie?"
Carter asked, "Marnie?"
I said, "Yeah. Her line was disconnected. I asked Mike to track her down."
Mike said, "That was easy. She'd left a message with the answering service. She's at the St. Francis, just like you said. Her mother, on the other hand--"
The phone in the room rang. Carter picked it up. "Hello?" Someone spoke on the other end. Carter smiled. "Hello, Marnie! How are you?" She talked for almost a minute. Carter was nodding as he listened. He said, "Look, you go to our house and stay there. We won't be home for a few days, at least." Carter waited. "Yes. It's fine. Nick's right here. But, Marnie--" He waited while she talked. "I know. Remember. Your mother has already slept there." He waited another couple of moments. "You take care. Here's Nick." He handed me the phone.
I walked over and took it from him.
"Hi, doll. How are you?"
"Fine, Nick. We don't have to stay there."
"It's no problem. I think both of us will feel better if you're there. And, if you need anything, Pam and Diane are next door."
"You're right. She just doesn't like staying in hotels. I never knew." She sounded very put out. I couldn't blame her. Carter seemed to charm her mother when she'd been around before. I was sure if Marnie said that Carter had said it was OK, then her mother would be fine with it.
"Why the sudden move?"
"The landlord came to us on Friday morning and told us that, if we could leave on Saturday, or sooner, he would give us two hundred dollars. We were the last people in the building and the construction crew was wanting to start work on Monday. You know this was a furnished place, so packing up was easy and, well, here we are."
"Look, doll. A couple of things."
"Yes, Nick?"
"First, we'll be going to Washington in a few days."
"I saw that in the paper. Oh, Nick, those Hearsts--"
"Save that, sweetheart. I need you to be on the lookout for anyone trying to serve me a subpoena. If they ask for me, refer 'em to Jeffery. Don't duck 'em
." She'd done that in the past when I needed to lay low. "Just tell 'em to take it to my lawyer. And then call me here as soon as that happens. Got that?"
"Sure. Anything else?"
The only other thing I had for her were references for O'Reilly. I said, "Hold on, doll." I put my hand over the mouthpiece and asked Mike, "You get those references?"
"Yes and no."
I looked at him for a moment and then asked, "Is there anything Marnie can do to help?"
"Nope."
I nodded and took my hand off the mouthpiece.
"That's it for now, doll."
"Wait!" Carter jumped up and grabbed the phone receiver from me.
"Marnie? This is Carter, again. We forgot to tell you." He looked at me sideways. "The water heater is busted." He listened as Marnie replied. He nodded. "You're a trooper, but you would be doing Nick and me a big favor if you could call in our plumber and get that fixed for us."
I watched him as he reached for his wallet. He pulled out a card and read the name and phone number of our plumber, a real sweet guy, to her.
"Got that?" He listened. "Sure. He'll know." He looked at me with a question on his face. I nodded. "OK, Marnie. Thanks. And here's Nick again."
I took the receiver back.
"Thanks, doll. That'll be a huge help."
"It's no problem, Nick."
"One last thing."
"What's that?"
"Don't ever go missin' on me like that again. I worry when I don't know where you are. You know how that is."
She was quiet on the far end of the line. Finally she said, "I know. And I'm sorry Nick. You know my mother and how she can be."
"I know, sweetheart. Give her a kiss from Carter and I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"What about a kiss from you?"
"You ask her if she wants one. If she does, she can have it. You know it's Carter she's in love with. Just like everyone else."
"Oh, Nick." She giggled as she put down the receiver on her end. With that, the line went dead.
I put the receiver in the cradle, folded my arms, and looked at Mike.
"So, what'd you get on O'Reilly?"
"Some good and some questionable, but nothing awful."
"So, what?"
"The two references he gave were good. They were both for other yachts that he's captained. Both rich guys. Happy to talk. You know the drill."
The Sartorial Senator (A Nick Williams Mystery Book 3) Page 5
