by Alan Cook
“We need to get hold of the record for the car he rented and find out how many miles he drove. It was from Avis, if I recall correctly. Although everybody is getting more and more automated these days, I suspect that each office has a handwritten copy of each rental agreement, including mileage. He would have rented it at the Avis office near the L.A. Airport.”
“What are you going to do, call Blade and have his people look into it?”
“No. Even Blade would have to jump through hoops to get permission or a search warrant on this one. I have to do it myself. Phil said he needs a day off. That means all the runners need a day off. We’re going to besiege Fred and get one tomorrow. We’ve got a good argument. There are only three running days left. We need a rest day so we’ll be ready for a big finish. I’m going to fly to L.A. for the day.”
“I’ll go with you. You may have the beauty, but I have the brains.”
“Fine. Let’s catch up to Phil and Brian and plot our strategy for dealing with Fred.”
CHAPTER 32
“How long have you worked for Giganticorp?” Melody asked Charles.
Fred’s new assistant was driving the company car. He changed lanes to pass a truck. “It’ll be a year in October.”
“How do you like working for Big G?”
“It’s wonderful. Great place to work. Interesting jobs, lots of opportunity for advancement…”
Since all the employees gave the same line, there must be some truth to it, Drake reflected. “How do you like Casey?”
“Mr. Messinger? I haven’t had much contact with him, but when he sees me in the hall, he smiles at me and says hello. He must be a nice man.”
Fred had volunteered to have Charles drive them to the San Jose Airport. After Fred agreed to give the runners the day off, he decided to send Charles to the corporate headquarters in San Jose on some errand, since they were so close, even though it was Saturday. This meant that Melody and Drake didn’t have to rent a car or find some other means of getting to the airport.
Drake wondered whether they had exhausted Charles’ fund of information about Casey.
“I guess Mr. Messinger travels a lot.”
“I guess so. He seems to be gone most of the time.”
“Are you aware of it when he’s on a trip?”
“Naw. I work in another building. It’s not my job to watch him.” Charles laughed.
***
They flew T&A Airlines to LAX, so called because the stewardesses dressed provocatively, including wearing hot pants. Drake knew the rule about not ogling other women when you were with one, but he snuck surreptitious glances at the sexy young ladies, even while a small area in the back of his brain that he usually tried to suppress asked whether this was the correct corporate culture for a public company.
They had no luggage, so they walked off the plane directly into the Los Angeles summer sun. They boarded one of the Avis vans that circled the airport and arrived at the Avis lot a few blocks from the terminal within minutes. They wore their Running California jackets with the Giganticorp logos, thoughtfully provided by Big G. Drake wore a tie borrowed from Peaches. Melody wore a skirt, a blouse, and pantyhose. They strode confidently into the office.
They waited in line for an available agent. When it was their turn, they went up to the counter. The agent was a woman, so per previous agreement, Drake addressed her with a big smile.
“Good morning. We’re with Giganticorp, the L.A. office. Our president, Casey Messinger, recently rented a car here. There were some questions about the rental, but, unfortunately, the invoice has been lost. We’d like to get another copy.”
The woman went behind a partition and brought back a man who was evidently the manager. This time Melody repeated the story to him. When he heard the Giganticorp name, he seemed to become more alert.
“I’m Andy Teller. We at Avis appreciate your business. What was the date of the rental?”
“August eighteenth.”
“Let me check.”
They twiddled their thumbs while the man disappeared behind the partition. Minutes passed before he returned empty-handed.
“Our records are in a bit of a mess, but I couldn’t find it. Are you sure it was the eighteenth?”
Drake hit the side of his head with his hand.
“You know what? We may have that wrong. It may have been the seventeenth.”
The man disappeared again.
Melody said, “If we keep changing the date, he’s going to get suspicious.”
“Keep your fingers crossed.” Drake suited action to the word.
The man was shaking his head when he reappeared. Melody said, “Do you keep track of rentals by customer? The president’s name is Casey Messinger.”
“We do that on the computer at the corporate office. We have to put in a request to get the information overnight. I could have it for you tomorrow.”
“Too late. It’s a shame, because Mr. Messinger really loves the service that Avis gives. He always tries to rent a Lincoln Continental.”
“Did you say Lincoln Continental? We’ve only had one of those on the lot recently. We keep our records by car, too. Let me check that file.”
More agonizing minutes went by. Drake remembered that one thing he didn’t like about the spy business was the time spent waiting for something to happen—for example, waiting for the person under surveillance to make a move. When the man finally returned, he was smiling and carrying some paperwork.
“I’m glad you mentioned that it was a Continental. Mr. Messinger rented it on the eighteenth and turned it in on the twenty-first. I don’t know why I couldn’t find it the first time.”
He handed Drake the copy of the invoice. Drake looked the sheets over quickly. The starting and ending mileage were recorded.
“Thank you very much. We knew that Avis would come through for us. That’s why our corporate policy is to rent from Avis. We wouldn’t rent from anyone else.”
They both shook hands with Andy Teller and walked outside. Melody smiled. “Our corporate policy is to rent from Avis? We wouldn’t rent from anyone else? When you get going, you really sling the bull.”
“Hey, we got what we came for, didn’t we? Now, onward to the Hilton. It’s only a few blocks from here.”
“Nice day for a walk. Or would you rather run to stay in shape?”
They walked. Casey had mentioned that he always stayed at the Airport Hilton in L.A. The hotel stood amid a number of others with familiar names to travelers, on the traffic-heavy Century Boulevard. Once inside, they employed the same strategy they had with Avis. Melody spoke to the male desk clerk.
In response to his “Good afternoon,” she responded, “Good afternoon” and recited the story of Casey staying there and needing a copy of the paperwork. Fortunately, she now knew that he had probably been registered for three nights starting August eighteenth.
The desk clerk found the information and made a copy, all within five minutes. That was interesting, but not what they really wanted. Melody thanked him, thought for a moment, and then spoke again.
“When Mr. Messinger stayed here, he was very impressed with the service he received from one of your maids. He asked us to give her something.”
Drake flashed a twenty-dollar bill.
“Do you know her name?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Messinger never caught her name.”
The desk clerk checked the room number on the bill and made a phone call. Two minutes later he hung up the phone in triumph.
“Her name’s Cecilia. I’d be glad to see that she gets the money.”
He held out his hand.
Melody said, “Mr. Messinger asked us to give her the money in person, along with his thanks. Is she working now? We don’t want to take her away from her work, so we’d be more than happy to go to the floor she’s on.”
The clerk didn’t see anything sinister about that. He ascertained Cecilia’s whereabouts with another phone call and directed them to the fifth
floor. They took the elevator.
They found her in one of the rooms changing the bed. She was young and attractive, although the gray maid’s uniform didn’t do anything for her. They knocked on the open door to gain her attention. When she looked up, Drake spoke, telling her they were from Giganticorp and how pleased Mr. Messinger had been with her service.
She looked surprised. “Mr. Messinger? Yes, he was here, but I not see him much. Wait.” She blushed. “I see him when he was leaving. He ask me to come into the room. He give me a big tip.” She pronounced it “teep.” “Then he pat my ass and tell me I’m a good girl.”
Melody couldn’t restrain herself. “He patted your…ass? Weren’t you offended?”
“If he give me a big tip, he can pat anywhere he wants.”
Drake reached out the twenty to her. “He wanted me to give you this.”
“But he doesn’t get to pat anything,” Melody said quickly.
Cecilia laughed and thanked them.
Drake said, “You mentioned that you didn’t see much of Mr. Messinger when he was here. Did he actually stay here all three nights, do you know?”
“It is funny. The first morning when I come in to make the bed, I see that it has not been slept in. The second morning it is the same. I think he only sleep here one night.”
Drake and Melody looked at each other. Melody smiled at Cecilia. “Thank you, Cecilia, for…giving such good service.”
***
While they were waiting for their flight back to San Jose, Drake called Blade collect from an airport pay phone. He had left his office, but the woman who answered patched the call through to another number.
Blade came on the line. “Aren’t you calling a little early? You’re slipping. You didn’t even wake me up. What are you doing, taking the day off?”
“Hardly. It’s true we didn’t run today, but Melody and I are in Los Angeles investigating the perambulations of our mark.”
“Yeah? What did you find out?”
Drake quickly filled him in on what they knew and suspected about Casey’s activities on the day of Grace’s death. “He put five hundred miles on the car that aren’t accounted for, even though we know he drove to San Luis Obispo once. That’s enough mileage to cover a second trip there.”
Drake also repeated what Cecilia had told them about Casey not sleeping at the Hilton until the third night of his reservation. “The second night he slept in San Luis Obispo. We know that. But the first night he apparently didn’t sleep anywhere.”
When he finished speaking there was silence on the other end of the line. Drake waited for Blade to say something.
He did after a ten second pause. “Sounds like you’ve got a good circumstantial case against our friend. Unfortunately, we can’t convict on that. Even if an investigation showed that he was lying when he said he was attending a breakfast meeting around the time the girl was killed, that’s still not enough. You haven’t placed him at the scene or produced a weapon.”
“If we can’t convict him in a courtroom, we may do it on our own.”
“Do not take any independent action. This is still a nation of laws, although it may not seem so at times. You two are doing a good job. Keep at it. But talk to me before you do anything foolish.”
Blade’s usually carefree manner had disappeared during that speech. Drake knew he was serious. He decided he’d better back off. “Well, the least you can do is to reimburse our air fare.”
“What, and encourage you to flit around the country? It’s a good thing you two are rich.”
“By the way, how did our friend’s chat with the president go?”
“He speaks softly, but he may be carrying a big stick. However, we can’t make accusations about him without something to back them up.”
CHAPTER 33
Today’s run goes from Bonny Doon Road in Santa Cruz County to the intersection of Route 84 in San Mateo County near San Gregorio State Beach, all on Route 1. The terrain is relatively flat, compared to some of the hills you’ve seen in the past. Now that you’re rested from your day off, it should be a day of high-speed running. You’ll be close to the water and see lots of pretty beaches.
***
“This is not what I signed up for.”
Drake couldn’t tell who had uttered the complaint. The timbre of the voice behind him was changed by the headwind that was sapping the strength of the runners. It was also blowing sand in their faces, creating the illusion of being jabbed by hundreds of tiny needles. Some of the runners were trying to counteract the sand by wearing caps with the bills pulled low to protect their eyes, but sudden gusts of wind blew them off with regularity.
Drake, who was wearing dark glasses, turned to Melody who didn’t seem to be affected by the elements. It was almost as if the wind and sand sailed right through her body without touching it. He felt a tinge of envy. “If we get any closer together we’ll all have to get married.”
“We’re huddled like a herd of zebra on the Serengeti fending off a pride of lions.”
Nobody wanted to take the lead and face the brunt of the wind and sand. As a consequence, they ran slowly with the lead changing often, the runners who were farther back being sheltered to some extend by those in front. Drake and Melody were content to stay with the group as long as they didn’t get stepped on, because breaking away in the headwind would sap their strength at a disproportionate rate.
Because they were so close to the others, they couldn’t talk about Casey. They had discussed him on the plane ride back to San Jose without reaching any conclusion as to what to do. Being quite certain that he had killed Grace and being able to prove it were two different matters. They felt frustrated and had an urge to become vigilantes, taking matters into their own hands, but as Blade had pointed out, they couldn’t do that.
***
Drake had barely entered his motel room when the phone rang. He was tired from running into the wind most of the day and didn’t feel like speaking to anyone. After the third ring he figured he’d better answer it.
“Drake.”
“Turn on the telly, channel seven.” Melody’s voice sounded urgent.
“Are we about to be hit by a meteor?”
“Worse. Just turn it on.”
Drake hung up and clicked on the television set. When the picture appeared on channel seven, Casey’s face filled the screen in glorious black and white. It took Drake a few seconds to understand what he was talking about. He heard the words “impeach the president” and “martial law,” before he realized that although he didn’t say it in so many words, Casey was advocating the overthrow of the government.
His pitch was that the U.S. was under attack by an unnamed “foreign power,” and that this fact had not been acknowledged by the president who had attempted to hide the truth, leading one to infer that the president was in cahoots with the enemy. If the president refused to take action, it was up to the American people to defend themselves by enabling the military to take proper defensive measures. The country needed a strong leader in a time of peril.
Casey didn’t say who this leader might be, but anyone watching the broadcast who bought what he was saying would come to the obvious conclusion. Casey mentioned his complete dedication to the well-being of his country, as exemplified by his design and production of weapons essential for the country’s defense for the past twenty years. Almost tearfully, he said that he didn’t want the efforts of all those who labored for peace at Giganticorp and in the armed forces to go to waste. In closing, he called for the country to unite, and without mentioning Winston Churchill by name, he paraphrased a few sentences from his “This was their finest hour” speech.
Drake angrily turned off the television set. What rubbish. Everybody would see Casey for the fraud he was. Twenty seconds later Melody burst into the room without knocking.
“Did you hear all that?”
Drake made a mental note to lock the door when staying at a Mom-and-Pop motel without automatic locks. “He
’s lost his north. He’s gone off the deep end. Fortunately, nobody’s going to go with him.”
“Tom is.”
Tom? Tom who? It took Drake a few seconds to realize that Melody was referring to Tom the runner.
“How do you know that?”
“He was in my room.” Melody decided she’d better explain. “He was apologizing to me.”
“For what?”
“For acting boorishly. What does it matter? The point is, he agrees with Casey. He was nodding his head and making comments while Casey was speaking. Tom is a smart, well educated man. If he agrees with Casey, how many other people are going to?”
Was it true that there were a lot of people who wouldn’t see through Casey’s naked grab for power? Who would be so concerned for their own safety that they would allow it to happen? Before Drake could reply to Melody, the phone rang.
“Drake.”
“I’ll be outside your motel in an hour, driving an inconspicuous Ford sedan.”
There was a click and the line went dead. Drake stared at the receiver. Melody did too.
“Who was it?”
“Slick. He’ll be here in an hour.”
“That was fast. He must not be far away.”
“Probably in the San Jose area. He’s been investigating Casey, just like we have.”
***
“Casey can’t just mount a coup and take over the government. This isn’t some fifth-rate country with flies and bribable officials. We have a constitution. The president is Commander in Chief of the armed forces.”
Drake had a lot more he could say, but he didn’t want to work himself into a state of apoplexy. Slick was driving them from the middle of nowhere to the middle of somewhere in the roomy Ford sedan. At least he didn’t have his Porsche. With traffic momentarily clear in front of them, he glanced at Drake and Melody, both sitting on the bench seat beside him. “What you say is theoretically true. But what if…”
“What if what?”
“What if the armed forces don’t obey the president?”
“That won’t happen.”