"That's what currently has us puzzled, Mr. Fielding."
"What's that?"
"The description of events you gave us the day after the attack."
"What's there to be confused about? The guy in that photo broke into my house and he was ... well, he appeared severely deformed at first. His back was all misshapen, his hands had grown huge, he had hair all over him, his face was ..." He gestured for the right word. "His face was just mutated. The lower portion was pushed out slightly like this." He indicated his nose and jaw with his hands. "Like the snout of an animal, but not quite all the way. It was still very humanlike."
"And the man you claim broke into your home looked like the man in this photo?" Coverdale asked. He sounded like he didn't believe George.
"Not looked like. Was."
"Come now, Mr. Fielding! Surely you don't expect us to believe that?"
"The man who broke into my home and attacked me was naked," George said, his voice strong and controlled. "He had a tattoo of the cartoon character Wile E. Coyote on the underside of his left forearm." He patted his own left forearm, as if to indicate the limb. "The man in that photo, Mark Wiseman, I've seen him. He sticks out at Free State like a sore thumb, so it's hard not to miss him. He's the only guy at that place with shoulder-length hair. One day as myself, Bernard, and a couple of the board members were on our way back from lunch, we rode up in the elevator with him. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans and a white, short-sleeved shirt. I was standing right next to him and noticed the tattoo." He looked from Detective Coverdale to Allen Frey. "The man that burst into my house last week had the same tattoo and with the exception of his fucked-up face, had the same facial features, the same hair. It was the same guy."
Coverdale looked flustered. Frey had the faint hint of a smile on his face, but wasn't yielding to it. Footsteps approaching from the corridor outside made Allen turn around and another man stepped into the room. He was middle-aged, slightly portly, with graying hair. He was wearing a three-piece dark suit. Detective Coverdale said, "Agent Strong. Glad you could make it."
Agent Strong regarded George Fielding. "Hello, Mr. Fielding."
"Greetings, Agent Strong." He held out his hand. "You can call me George."
"You can call me Paul." Agent Strong acknowledged Allen Frey with a nod, then walked over to the windows that overlooked the front of the hospital. "I got here as quick as I could, gentlemen. There's a private plane waiting for me at the airport, so let's make this quick."
Coverdale turned to George Fielding. "Why don't we skip what happened to you at your house that night and just tell us what you told me over the phone yesterday?"
"Sure." George Fielding took a sip of Sprite. He looked at Coverdale and Frey. "What I have to tell you relates to what happened to me, though."
"That's fine. Just tell us so Agent Strong can hear it."
George Fielding regarded the two law enforcement officers and one private detective, took another sip of Sprite and launched into his narrative. "Like I said, I noticed the man right away at Free State. He stuck out like a sore thumb."
"So you've positively identified the man in the photo-Mark Wiseman-as the man who attacked you?" Agent Strong asked.
"Yes." No use in launching into what he had really seen. He already knew that what he had described was being tacked up as a hallucination from the traumatic experience. "I noticed him at Free State's Corporate Headquarters. This was in November. The next month I was back in town again at Free State for another round of meetings. I ended up having to wait in Bernard Roberts's lobby to wait for a meeting and wound up talking to his secretary. A nice, pretty girl named Carol Emrich."
"Yes, we're aware of Miss Emrich," Agent Strong said.
"Mr. Fielding was made aware that Miss Emrich is missing," Detective Coverdale informed Agent Strong.
"Oh hell," Strong said, looking gruff. "You guys tell him?"
"My personal assistant told me this morning," George Fielding said. "Doug called me this morning with the news. Apparently her parents are in quite a distress."
Agent Strong waved the matter aside. "Okay, she's missing. That much you know. But let's cut to the chase. Detective Coverdale and Allen Frey told me last night that you believe Mark Wiseman was the man responsible for the attack on you, and that Bernard Roberts ordered it. I'd like to hear this."
"Of course." George Fielding took a long pull off his Sprite. He would have to ring the nurse for another one pretty soon. "Let me resume. Like I said, I wound up waiting in Bernard's lobby for a meeting and struck up a conversation with Carol. She looked radiant; bubbly, you might say. This struck me as somewhat odd, since in the previous eight or nine months she had seemed, oh ... morose, I guess. I had seen the interplay between her and Bernard and knew that the two of them were involved in an affair. Bernard didn't volunteer information, nor did I inquire. Let's just say it was obvious. But when I walked into the lobby that day Carol was a completely changed woman. She was happy, smiling, vivacious-more so than usual. We struck up a conversation and she made frequent mentions of a boyfriend she was seeing. When I inquired who it was, she quickly assured me that it was nobody I would know."
"The guy she was seeing could have been anybody," Agent Strong said. "So what?"
"I'll get to that in a minute," George Fielding said, holding up his hand. "Bernard became free and we had our meeting. As fate would have it, the topic of the meeting turned to the potential takeover. We were going over possible cuts in the budget and Bernard became very combative. He emphasized over and over that he thought the merger was a wrong idea-this despite all the legwork we had done to prove to the executive staff of Free State that it would be better for their financial status-and that he was against it all the way. I didn't think about this conversation until much later-yesterday, in factwhen I thought about John, Samuels, and Krueger and how they had met their end. I realized then that I had almost met a similar fate and that's when it occurred to me that Bernard had been behind this."
"Because Bernard was so against the merger and yourself and the other three gentlemen that were killed were all for the merger," Detective Coverdale said. "Is that correct, Mr. Fielding?"
George nodded. "It's a silly notion, I know. I don't know who ordered the investigation on Bernard, but-"
"That would have been your colleague, Fred Johansen," Allen said. "He hired me back in August to investigate Samuels's death."
"Yes. Thanks goodness he did. And thanks to your hard work and perseverance, you've been able to find what Bernard has been up to the past seven years."
"I can buy corporate fraud," Agent Strong said, looking exasperated. "I still don't see how that can tie Bernard with conspiracy to commit murder."
"I think I may have the final two pieces to convince you," George said quietly. He looked up at the three men and made a weak attempt at a smile. He sipped at his Sprite; almost gone. "The evening of our meeting I asked Bernard if he would accompany me to dinner. He politely turned me down and said he had another engagement. I wound up taking dinner by myself at a nice restaurant in Newport Beach called Calavan's. On my way out I saw a young couple in an embrace, and they were quite passionate about it, I might add. As I got to my car I gave them another look and recognized them instantly as Carol Emrich and Mark Wiseman."
The three men glanced at each other, then back at George. Frey was nodding his smile appearing to say this is just what I thought. George ignored their reactions and continued. "The next morning I had another meeting with Bernard and some other board members. I saw Carol again, but I didn't reveal what I had seen to either of them. I did, however, inquire with Carol on how her evening had gone and the girl literally blushed. She was entirely smitten with Mr. Wiseman and it showed in the way she reacted. She said, 'I had a wonderful evening, Mr. Fielding. Simply wonderful.' I asked if she had gone out with her boyfriend last night, she said she had and we left it at that. That confirmed it for me. She and Mark Wiseman were romantically involved and she wa
s keeping it under wraps, I imagine to hide it from Bernard."
He paused. The Sprite can was empty and he picked up the CALL button. "Will you excuse me please? I'd like to get a refill."
"By all means," Agent Strong said. Fielding smiled and rang for the nurse. When she came he asked for a refill and she returned with it a few minutes later.
"Bernard reiterated his position at the meeting that afternoon," George related, pausing between sips of Sprite. "The entire board and executive staff was present at that meeting, including Fred Johansen. Again, I didn't find anything out of the ordinary regarding Bernard's position. A few of the other executive staff members and senior management personnel were against the move. The meeting adjourned briefly for lunch and as myself and a few of my colleagues were heading toward the parking lot to drive to a restaurant, I noticed Mark Wiseman again. He walked past us, just as normal as can be. It was a nice day, and he was dressed casually, but not sloppy. Business casual is a more appropriate term.
"Anyway, as he passed us one of the people with us, a woman who is vice president of Claims made an aside about the tattoo Mark had on his arm. She found it to be rather, well, cute. One of the members of my party asked her if she knew him and she replied that his name was Mark Wiseman, that he was a computer tape librarian who had just moved over from swing shift to the day shift. Then some body else commented rather sarcastically that perhaps Mark should have remained working nightsthat to look the way Mark looked with his long hair was perhaps a risk to the business health of Free State." He chuckled and took a sip of Sprite. "I've always hated such elitist bullshit myself. Anyway, we had our lunch, then came back and resumed our meeting.
"The meeting didn't officially adjourn for the day until six p.m. I accompanied Bernard back to his office and waited for him at Carol's desk while he prepared to leave; this time we were going to go out for dinner. Carol and the rest of the executive and support staff had left for the evening, so Bernard and I were the only ones in the suite. I sat at Carol's desk and leafed through her appointment book, which she had left sitting on her desk."
"Was this her personal appointment book?" Detective Coverdale asked.
"No. It was an appointment book secretaries keep for those they support. It consisted of Bernard's business schedule."
Detective Coverdale nodded and traded a glance with Allen Frey, who remained stony faced, yet optimistic. George Fielding took a sip of Sprite, licked his lips, and continued. "I was just casually leafing through it, not really paying much attention to what was on it, until I came to the month of June. And it was there, penciled in for an appointment at fourthirty p.m.-which date I couldn't tell you now, but it would have had to have been June 7 or 8, I thinkwas Mark Wiseman's name."
The two detectives and FBI agent were silent for a minute, as if analyzing this bit of information. Frey got the significance before the other two. "Mark Wiseman's name was in his appointment book almost one full week before Martin John was killed," he said. "It also provides a connection between Bernard and Mark."
The two detectives and FBI agent were silent as they appeared to mull this over. Agent Strong sighed. "I must admit, George, that does sound rather convincing. Not strong enough to stand up in court, mind you, but it's something we may be able to go on."
George smiled. "That's what I thought."
Agent Strong traded a glance with the two detectives and turned back to George. "Would you have any idea where Bernard may have disappeared to?"
"None, I'm afraid."
"A vacation spot he may have mentioned? The city or state where friends or family may live?"
"Bernard had exotic tastes in vacation spots. I know he has a sister who lives in the Bay Area, but I doubt he'd hide out there. From what he told me he and his sister don't get along very well."
"He might have headed off for whatever exotic location he likes to vacation," Allen Frey said. "Guys like him, the minute they go on the lam they head to somewhere nice and exotic. To go underground and live like a fugitive, they have to do it in class."
Detective Coverdale nodded. "That's right. We might want to start there."
"In that case you're looking at places like the Virgin Islands, Baja, the Cayman Islands, Hawaii," George said from his hospital bed. "He liked Cancun a bit, too."
"What about Carol Emrich?" Agent Strong asked. "It's safe to assume that Mark Wiseman is with her. Since you don't seem to know much about Mark, is there anything you know about Carol that might shed some light on where she might have gone?"
George pursed his lips in contemplation and shook his head. "I don't know. Bernard used to take her everywhere with him. I would say she had the same tastes in vacation spots as he-"
"I doubt she and Mark would have headed to the Cayman Islands to hide out," Allen said. "I think it would be safe to say that the attack on you didn't go as planned and that Bernard is quite pissed off. Mark and Carol probably took off for points unknown out of fear of retribution from Bernard, rather than fear from the law."
"And Bernard?" George asked, eyebrows raised questionably.
"Either he has a sense that the noose is tightening around his own neck due to the bungled attempt on your life, or he took off to try to hunt down Mark," Allen said. "He's only been missing for a day. He must know by now that Mark and Carol skipped out on him."
"True," George said, nodding. "In that case I'm afraid I can't offer you much. They could have gone anywhere."
"You don't think she would have gone to Nebraska where her parents live?" Coverdale asked.
"Well, anything's possible," George said. "But I would think if she was afraid that Bernard would be coming after her and Mark to kill them, her parents' house would be the last place she would go. Besides, her parents are frantic, so it's obvious she hasn't contacted them."
"What about Mark?" Agent Strong asked the two detectives.
"We don't know too much about him," Detective Coverdale said. "We're doing a background check on him now."
"Well, let's get something over the wire about them," Agent Strong said. "We can pull their photos from DMV. Hopefully we can find them before Bernard does."
As the men were preparing to leave, George nodded at each of them. Detective Coverdale nodded back. "Don't worry. We'll get them."
"Thank you, Detective," George said.
Allen Frey shook George's hand. "I hope you recover quickly."
"So do I," George said.
Chapter Twenty-four
They pulled into the Three Rivers city limits a little before midnight on Thursday, January 13.
The decision to hole up for awhile at Three Rivers had been made Wednesday morning by Carol. She'd suggested it to Mark the morning after returning from the desert and his revelation to her. "I know the area very well and it's remote. Nobody will ever think of looking for us there."
"I should think so," Mark had said. "Nobody will think of looking for us there because they haven't heard of it."
After breakfasting at a Pueblo diner attached to the motel and checking out of their room, they headed west. Mark navigated the first part of the trip while Carol drove. They hooked up with Interstate 58 to Bakersfield, and then Interstate 65 into Three Rivers.
They got a late start. Mark was exhausted from his ordeal in the desert, and he slept. By the time they gathered their things and checked out, it was late afternoon. By the time they reached Bakersfield it was closing in on nine o'clock in the evening. "We've got another two hours or so," Carol said from the passenger seat as Mark drove. "You want to keep going?"
"Might as well."
They had called ahead to the Three Rivers Lodge and booked a room during a stop in Needles. They stopped in a small town at the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas and bought tire chains. "Storm dumped six inches of snow two weeks ago and the streets might still be a bit slushy," the attendant told Mark as he made the purchase inside. "Another storm is expected to hit in a few days though. You planning on staying up there long?"
"We might," Mark said as he took the chains. "You think I'll need to put these on now?"
"How far up you going?"
"Three Rivers."
"You won't need them if that's how far you're going. Long as you get up there in the next few hours. We're supposed to have snow flurries later this evening."
The drive up the winding mountain road took a little over an hour. It had been over three years since Mark had made a drive like this through the mountains and he was a little nervous as he piloted the car through turn after turn. The Camaro's heater was on, and the interior of the car was warm and cozy. When they passed the sign that told them they were entering the city limits, Carol told him to be on the lookout for the sign that would lead them to the lodge. "It'll be on the left," she said.
They reached the motel a few minutes later. There were only three other cars in the parking lot. Mark scrutinized them closely as they circled and parked. There were two Range Rovers and one station wagon. Not a black Mercedes to be seen. Mark smiled weakly at Carol. "Guess this place is as safe as any."
"Of course it is," Carol said, getting her purse. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know. Guess I'm just paranoid."
Carol leaned over and kissed him. "It'll be fine. Bernard will never think of looking for us here. Besides, he doesn't even know we're together. He has no idea you're with me."
I hope you're right, Mark thought, as he followed Carol outside to the front desk to check in for the night.
They were just about to bed down for the night when there was a light knock on the door.
Mark was dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt. Carol was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. They had turned the heater on in the room and it was now at a nice, toasty level. Mark's heart leaped in his chest at the sound of the knock and he quickly backed up toward the bathroom. "Turn the water off!" he whispered.
Carol looked over at him, foamy toothpaste in her mouth as she brushed her teeth. "Huh?"
Mark leaned over and turned the water off. "Somebody just knocked on the door," he whispered.
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