City Havoc

by Jack Adler

  We separated at Cabral's spacious living room to make sure we met and chatted with everyone. There were two other professors from UCLA, one from USC, the owner of a chain of bookstores, a former city councilwoman and a movie producer.

  Val was speaking to Buzz Haley, a gray-haired film producer man in his late forties who seemed to only have eyes for her. Given my childish crush, I wasn’t at all surprised by my jealousy. But I kept talking with Margo Wexler, the genial, heavy councilwoman with black hair, puffy cheeks and dark eyebrows that bordered her soft hazel eyes.

  "These terrorists are destroying the city, and we don’t seem able to stop them," Wexler said, alarmed. She held a glass of white wine in her hand. Cabral, or his absent wife, had prepared decanters of red and white wine as well as fruit juice. Pretzels and peanuts lay on small trays.

  "But no one seems to have heard of them before, and they’re not Muslims, it seems," I said more as a question than a statement.

  "It isn’t clear,” Wexler said. "But their message is clear. They’re pure evil."

  "Do you think Holly Baxter is one of them?" I had to ask.

  “Well,” Wexler said, “the young lady certainly seems to be. At this point I think it's fair to say she has to prove otherwise. But I think you feel differently, don't you?"

  Obviously, the councilwoman was an avid news consumer. “Undeserved fame,” I said, bringing a smile to her pudgy face.

  Suddenly, a loud voice dominated the living room. It was Ben Shuster, the bookstore owner, a thin, bespectacled man with a loud, guttural voice and the remains of a New York accent. "I think we ought to do something. This HAP group is ridiculous. Let's offer a reward. Money talks."

  "What makes you think someone in the public can help at this point?” asked James Falash, one of the other UCLA professors, a middle-aged man with a pipe who taught chemistry. “The police have already set up an information line.”

  "I agree," said Lester Blesdell, a philosophy professor from USC. A tuft of white hair combed sideways crossed his gleaming scalp while thick glasses rested atop a knobby nose. “You’ll just get a bunch of greedy people and the usual assortment of crazies.”

  “But it’s worth a try,” Shuster maintained in a voice that carried, apparently not willing to give an inch to the academicians. "You never know; we may get leads that might actually help the police. Pandering to greed works."

  An interesting blend of disciplines, if nothing else, I thought. I caught Val's eye as she sat demurely on a couch at the movie producer’s side. They had been silent during this exchange, a marked change from the earlier stream of conversation. She smiled back with just a slight movement of her lips, but I thought it was more than professional reassurance.

  "This isn't the Wild West," the chemistry professor said. “Terrorism is a totally different and very complex situation.”

  "Ordinarily, money does work, but I'm not so sure here," Haley said, finally giving his opinion. “This isn’t a movie, and that’s a movie line,” he added, maybe to show his knowledge of his field. I wondered how many people in the room had seen the Michael Douglas film Wall Street, which made the memorable statement that greed was good. He glanced quickly at Val to see if what he said met her approval. His eyes, like some sort of tropism, drifted down to her bosom. I think Val was a bit embarrassed by Haley's obvious advances, but I was sure she knew how to handle his type.

  "It would have to be a private gesture," opined Wexler, immediately concerned over the public coffers.

  "A reward isn't necessarily such a bad idea," Cabral said. “It would show the terrorists that we’re not giving in and that we’re united.”

  “I agree,” Professor Blesdell said.

  “On that basis, I can see the utility of a reward,” Falash said, joining the majority.

  "If a reward is offered, how much would you have in mind?" Chabal asked Shuster.

  Shuster shrugged. "A substantial amount. As much as we can muster. I'll put in five thousand dollars myself."

  Shuster looked around at his fellow municipal patriots while Val and I stared at each other for a surprised instant. Talk about putting money where your mouth was. Shuster was walking the walk, talking the talk. Very impressive. But it remained to be seen if he would have company.

  “That’s substantial,” Professor Falash said in admiration.

  “Yes,” Wexler said, “but let’s work on the statement. And with apologies to our friends,” she added, indicating Val and me, “I think we should go over this in private.” Val and I stood and thanked everyone, especially Professor Cabral. We took our leave. I didn’t blame the group for wanting some privacy. But I wished I could get the outcome in time to report it to Wolcott.

  Ten

  MONDAY

  My calls to Wolcott were always preceded by the early morning news, but today I was looking for more than a repeat of the Dodgers game incident and follow-up reports of Holly Baxter's message to Mayor Waldon. I didn’t expect to see Shuster being interviewed, but there he was with the same earnest look, and I could swear the same blue plaid tie he had worn the night before.

  Then the screen showed their statement.

  Citizens of Los Angeles,

  The cowardly attacks by this so-called HAP organization is a threat to us all. This is the reason our Committee of Concerned Citizens has created a special reward of ten thousand dollars for anyone providing information that leads to capture of these terrorists.

  "Mr. Shuster, who else is on your committee?”

  Shuster rattled off the names. “We’re all private citizens very much concerned with the horrors this HAP group is responsible for.”

  “Did you discuss offering this reward with Mayor Walden? With the police?”

  “Neither,” Shuster said. “We’re private citizens. The police are doing the best they can, but we want to help.”

  The group certainly didn’t waste any time after Val and I had taken off. I was impressed by how quickly they had acted. They were already on the next day’s early morning news.

  “Have you gotten any reaction from the mayor or the police?"

  "No. Not yet. We just set this reward up last night. There’s no time to lose. How many more people have to die?"

  The television interviewer somberly nodded. "Well, thank you, Mr. Shuster."

  Shuster and the others were putting their money where their mouths were. I was proud of them, but I still had my doubts about the efficacy of a reward. But I didn’t think it would hurt, either. Professor Cabral was right about the point he made about unity.

  As I was already packed and had checked out through the in-house television set, I decided to call Wolcott from the office to see if I could once again delay my return to New York. By this time poor Wolcott probably suspected I wanted to relocate. My flight wasn't until the evening, so I had a little leeway. I had told Val I'd check in with her in the morning, though we had really said good-bye the night before when I drove her home. It was not terribly emotional, just two professionals, one a little less professional than the other in terms of concealing emotion. We were supposed to keep in touch. I don't think she thought I would, which bothered me. But I could see her point. Absence didn't always make the heart grow fonder.

  “Wolcott, last night people in the group put together a private reward for the capture of or any information about the HAP. I’m sure you’ve heard about the ballgame caper and the Miss Piggy promenade.”

  “Yes,” he said as if he were already resigned to more bad tidings. It was getting to be a depressing pattern. On that score the HAP was achieving its objective.

  “Is it possible for Tramerica to contribute to this reward? Could they offer to add to this one or post a separate one?”

  Wolcott was silent a moment. Then he said, “That possibility has been discussed, but DeCosta felt it would seem too self-serving, with the company being involved. For reasons best known to him, Baxter has also held off, though I’m sure he’s considered offering a reward. Probably advic
e from his lawyers.”

  “But now things are different,” I argued. “I think it would help our image, not hurt it.”

  I could almost hear Wolcott thinking as I waited for his response. “I’ll discuss it again with DeCosta. You may have a point. I’ll call you later.”

  “I know this sounds like a broken record, but I think things are coming to a head here. It’s worth at least another day to see the fallout from this reward.”

  “That’s all speculative,” Wolcott said.

  “I also want to check on what Baxter’s detective is up to,” I said, trying not to sound as desperate as I was.

  Wolcott was quick to respond. “As I said, I’ll call you later.”

  I decided to still leave all my things in the rental car.

  “Luke, your pictures are excellent. Good job.”

  Luke beamed as Bender passed the black-and-white photos to Rona. She nodded with approval.

  “We’ll have to work out the details,” Bender said. “I’m sure there’ll be a lot of security. But right now I’m concerned with this group’s reward.”

  “No one’s going to collect it,” Rona said.

  “That’s not the point,” Bender said. “This group can inadvertently ruin the effect of our disinformation, ironic as that might seem. We have to take action.”

  “How can they hurt us?” Rona argued.

  “We’ve left footsteps, no matter how careful we’ve been, so who knows what might come about through their reward?” Bender said. “Actually, this group is doing us a favor. They worked right into our hands, and I want to reward them.”

  “How?” Rona asked, puzzled.

  “The usual,” Bender said, his eyes glowing with sudden enthusiasm.

  “But we’re leaving in a few days,” Rona went on. Bender was just too ambitious, trying to accomplish too much. “We’ve already made our presence felt. We have our finale set up. Why risk this?”

  “That’s what you said, BB,” Luke threw in. “That we’re going to leave on Wednesday.” The thought of somehow being forced to stay longer seemed to be as clearly worrisome to him as it was to Rona.

  “I know what I said,” Bender snapped. “We’ll leave on schedule. But I want us to leave with a bang and not a whimper. I want to teach the city a lesson it will long remember, and what I have in mind won’t extend our stay a day.”

  Luke seemed relieved, but Rona still looked uncertain. The more events they attempted, the more things could go wrong.

  “Of course,” Bender continued, “I’d like to figure out a way to collect this reward. Wouldn’t that be ironic?”

  Rona stared at Bender more with more apprehension than surprise. What plot was he concocting now? “How would we do that?” she asked. “Who would pick up the money, and for doing what?”

  “Challenges, I agree,” Bender said, not at all discouraged. “Regardless, let’s see if we can implicate Tramerica further. Stir the pot. It’s a built-in distraction we can put to our use. We’ve handled Holly well. Now let’s tip off the police about Tramerica, this corporate hotbed of subversion.”

  Bender’s eyes gleamed with the prospect of the ironic blow they would inflict. He was forcing her to think of the possibilities, Rona saw. But her train of thought was interrupted by Bender. “Part of this process begins with taking care of the group offering the reward. Rona, we have some work to do.”

  As soon as I came into our office, Corinne indicated the call she was on was for me.

  "Mr. Greene," a woman with a pleasant voice said, “I’m Joyce Midren, program coordinator for the Young Voters Independent League. We're a socially and politically conscious organization with small chapters across the country. We'd like to invite you to be our guest speaker at a luncheon this coming Wednesday if you're free. I apologize for the late invitation."

  "I'm not sure I'll be here on Wednesday. Can I get back to you a bit later today?"

  "Of course, but as soon as possible, please. Our scheduled speaker has taken ill. We've seen you on television and think you'll be an excellent speaker. You can choose your own topic, of course, but naturally we hope you’ll say a few words about our current situation in Los Angeles."

  I was flattered but still puzzled. "I'm not in politics, so I'm curious as to why you're asking me."

  "A critical approach," Midren said without hesitation. "We look for people who can articulate reasonable criticism of our societal and political structure. From what we've read and seen regarding this unfortunate HAP crisis, you fit the bill quite well."

  "I see," I said, wondering what Wolcott would make of this unexpected and unsought invitation. But it certainly gave me another reason to stick around. “Well, let me check out my schedule, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

  Before I could call Wolcott, Stacy summoned me into her office. She had a concerned look on her face, which, as usual, had all the drama of a woman issuing forth into battle as some latter-day warrior queen in the business world.

  "You got another call from a Detective John Ruiz, and he said it was important for you to call back right away."

  I nodded silently, which obviously disappointed Stacy. But I could update her later. I went into the conference room and called Ruiz.

  "Hey, sport, thanks for calling back promptly," Ruiz said. "We need the address and phone number of all the tour leaders who work for your agency. How soon can you have that faxed to me?"

  "Why do you need this?"

  "Part of our investigation," Ruiz said. Then he added with obvious satisfaction, "I told you we were looking into Tramerica more closely."

  Was this really part of the investigation or just some payback and harassment for my challenging the police? But this ploy, which would no doubt be irritating to Wolcott, might actually help me.

  "I'll alert my boss in New York," I said.

  "ASAP, sport."

  As soon as I was done with Ruiz, I got a hold of Wolcott and ran through my growing checklist of things to tell him, including the speaking invitation and now Ruiz's sudden demand.

  “First, DeCosta agreed to offer a reward, regardless of whatever this private group may do. This announcement will come from New York probably tomorrow or Wednesday. The details are still being worked out. Considering this police request, which will make Mr. DeCosta very unhappy, and the speaking engagement, cancel your flight tonight. You need to be around to field any questions on our reward. I’ll advise you on when to return.”

  “Good,” I said, pleased with this extension but not wanting to sound too enthusiastic. There was no way Wolcott could know about my infatuation with Val, but I couldn’t help worrying that he might think I had a personal reason to stick around.

  “Send me a copy of the talk you’re giving this group,” Wolcott instructed. “Take it easy on any more take-offs on your theory about Holly Baxter. We don’t want to further alienate the police.”

  Any more than I had already done, I thought to myself. Instead, I said, “I’ll be very careful.”

  “We’ll fax the tour leaders’ information to the police, too,” Wolcott went on. “But the police could have asked for this list before. Why now?"

  "I don't know," I lied.

  "I read the material you sent. It’s confrontational but within reason."

  I felt immediately relieved. But Wolcott still seemed unconvinced. "Wolcott, I have a feeling the police know something, and I think this HAP thing is going to explode very shortly. If my theory is right, things may blow up quickly here, and Holly is going to be in the middle of it."

  After a pause Wolcott said, "Regardless of your opinion, don't say anything more controversial than what you've already said, and that includes your talk on Wednesday."

  "No problem," I said, elated, though Wolcott was far from agreeing with my assessment.

  "And," Wolcott commanded, "you may need to come back sooner if DeCosta wants. He keeps asking for updates on what you're doing, and I don't have much to offer him."

  "
Well, I think we're making progress.”

  “Has Baxter's private investigator come up with anything?"

  "Not that I know of,” I said, “but I’ll find out.” I wondered just what Conrad would tell me if he had unearthed anything.

  “Anything new on the senior Baxter front?”

  “Just impatience and anger. The legal threat is in abeyance for now, but it could spring to life at any moment. Get back to me promptly.”

  As soon as I got off the phone, I asked Corinne to cancel my flight and get my room back at the hotel. Both the airline and the hotel must have thought I was some sort of nut who didn’t know his own mind, but at least the hotel was used to working with Tramerica. Then I called Val with the good news. She wasn't home, and I didn't leave a message. I wanted to hear her voice when I told her I'd be around a little longer.

  Stacy came into the conference room. "There's something else you ought to know."

  "What's that?"

  "I had cocktails with Frank Conrad."

  Stacy had a kittenish grin on her face as if she had just shown me some delicious morsel she had captured. I was a bit stunned. This was turning out to be a morning full of surprises. Perhaps I should have asked Stacy to find out what Conrad was up to besides trying to get into her pants.

  "And he pumped you for information," I said, not hiding my unhappiness over her lack of judgment.

  "Derry, it was purely social. I have very little knowledge of your investigation. You don't exactly provide daily updates. Don't you think I have enough sense to keep my yap shut?"

  Stacy was on her high horse now, but I loved the word yap. Stacy and her yap. I had a dirty mind.

  "I have complete confidence in your yap," I said, smiling as if there weren’t any double entendre on my part. I had to wonder how pure and how social her tête–à–tête had been. I was also curious if Conrad would volunteer that he had gone out with Stacy when we got together. Meanwhile, I didn't want to hurt her feelings, though I was sure Conrad had been fishing for information, perhaps using seduction as a tool. Stacy’s raging hormones could have led her astray. I also felt I was on weak ground, given my own current hormonal imbalance.