enforcem that the first list was much longer than the second.
According to Bobby and Julie, it was preferable to try manage the
introduction of the police into a situation that quired them, even going
so far as to try to select one of detectives who would show up at the
scene-if it was a scene that needed detectives. Relying on the luck of
the draw dispatcher’s whim was considered unwise.
Lee wondered if he should even call the cops. He had doubt who had
killed Hal. Mr. Blue. Candy. But also he knew that Bobby would not
want to reveal more about Frank a the case than was truly necessary; the
agency-client privile was not as legally airtight as that of
lawyer-client or doct patient, but it was important too. Since Julie
and Bobby on the road and temporarily unreachable, Lee could get
guidance on what and how much to say to the police.
But he couldn’t let a dead body lie in front of the building, hoping
nobody would notice! Especially not when the victim was a man he had
known and liked.
Call the cops, then. But play dumb.
Consulting the notebook, Lee dialed the Newport Beach Police and asked
for Detective Harry Ladshroke, but Ladshroke was off duty. So was
Detective Janet Heisinger. Detective Kyle Ostov was available, however,
and when he came on the line he sounded reassuringly big and competent;
his voice was a mellow baritone, and he spoke crisply.
Lee identified himself, aware that his own voice was higher than usual,
almost squeaky, and that he was speaking too fast.
“There’s been a… well, a murder.” Before hee could go on, Ostov
said,
“Jesus, you mean Bobby and Julie know already? I just found out myself.
It was pushed on to me to tell them, and I was just sitting here, trying
to figure how best to break the news. I had my hand on the phone, going
to call them, when you rang through. How’re they taking it?” Confused,
Lee said,
“I don’t think they know. I mean, it must have happened just a few
minutes ago.”
“A little longer than that,” Ostov said.
“When did you guys find out? I just looked, and there weren’t any
patrol cars, nothing.” Finally the shakes hit him.
“God, I was talking to him not that long ago, took him some pizza, and
now he’s splattered all over the concrete six floors down.” Ostov was
silent. Then:
“What murder you talking about, ?”
“Hal Yamataka. There must’ve been a fight here, and then-” He stopped,
blinked, and said,.’What murder are you talking about?”
“Thomas,” Ostov said.
Heed felt sick. He had only met Thomas once, but he knew that Julie and
Bobby were devoted to him.
Ostov said,
“Thomas and his roommate. And maybe more in the fire if they didn’t get
them all out of the building in time.” The computer that Lee had been
born with was not functioning as smoothly as the ones made by IBM in his
office, and he needed a moment to grasp the implications of the
information that he and Ostov had exchanged. “They’ve got to be
conected, don’t they?”,Ild bet on it. You know of anybody who has a gru
against Julie and Bobby?” Lee looked around the reception lounge,
thought about other deserted rooms at Dakota & Dakota, the lonely offing
on the rest of the sixth floor, and the unpeopled levels bel the sixth.
He thought of Candy, too, all those people bitten torn, the giant Bobby
had seen on Punaluu Beach, the way guy could zap himself from place to
place. He began to very much alone.
“Detective Ostov, could you get some peo here really fast?”
“I’ve entered the call on the computer while I’ve been ting to you,”
Ostov said.
“A couple of units are on the now.” WITH HIS fingertips, Candy traced
lazy circles on the su of the dresser, then explored the contours of
each brass hang on the drawers. He touched the light switch on the wall
the switches on both bedside lamps. He let his hands glidedoorframes on
the off-chance that one of his intended p might have paused and leaned