He finished entering the number. After a few electronic beeps and clicks, a ringing came across the line.
At first even the ringing did not dispel the miasma of fear so thick it inhibited breathing. He half expected it to go on and on, without response, for everyone knew that there were no telephone lines between reality and the Twilight Zone. But after the third ring, Lonnie Beamer said, ‘California Paladin.’
Dan almost gasped with relief. ‘Lonnie, it’s Dan Haldane again.’
‘Have you regained your senses?’
‘All that stuff I said … that was just for the benefit of a guy who was listening over my shoulder.’
‘After you hung up, I figured it out.’
‘Listen, as soon as I hang up this time, I want you to call Earl and tell him there’s something fishy about all this police-protection crap.’
‘What’re you talking about?’
‘Tell him the guys who come to his door might not really be cops and he shouldn’t open up to them.’
‘You aren’t making sense. Of course they’ll be cops.’
‘Lonnie, something bad is about to go down. I don’t know exactly what or why—’
‘But I know I talked to Ross Mondale. I mean, I recognized his voice, but I still called him back at his office number. Just to double check who he was before I told him where Earl was keeping the McCaffreys.’
‘All right,’ Dan said impatiently, ‘even if it’s actually Wexlersh and Manuello who show up, tell Earl it stinks. Tell him I said he’s in deep shit if he lets them in.’
‘Listen, Dan, I can’t tell him to shoot it out with a couple of cops.’
‘He doesn’t have to shoot it out. Just tell him not to let them in. Tell him I’m on my way. He’s got to hold out until I get there. Now, what the hell’s the address of this safe house?’
‘It’s actually an apartment,’ Lonnie said. He gave Dan an address in Westwood, south of Wilshire. ‘Hey, you really think they’re in danger?’
‘Call Earl!’ Dan said.
He slammed down the receiver, threw open the steam-opaqued door of the booth, and ran to the car.
28
‘Under arrest?’ Earl repeated, blinking at Wexlersh, frowning at Manuello.
Earl looked every bit as surprised and baffled as Laura felt. She was on the sofa, with Melanie, where the detectives had indicated that they wanted her to remain when they had first come into the room. She felt terribly vulnerable and wondered why she should feel vulnerable when they were only policemen who said they were there to help her. She had seen their identification, and Earl apparently had met them before (although he didn’t seem to know them well), so there was every indication that they were what they claimed to be. Yet dark buds of doubt and fear began to flower, and she sensed that something was not right about this, not right at all.
She didn’t like the looks of these two cops, either. Manuello had mean eyes, a superior smirk. He moved with a macho swagger, as if waiting for his authority to be questioned so he could kick and stomp someone. Wexlersh, with his waxy white skin and flat gray eyes, gave her chills.
She said, ‘What’s going on? Mr. Benton is working for me. I hired his company.’ And then she had a crazy thought that she voiced at once: ‘My God, you didn’t think he was holding us here against our will, did you?’
Ignoring her, speaking to Earl Benton, Detective Manuello said, ‘You carrying any iron?’
‘Sure, but I have a permit,’ Earl said.
‘Let me have it.’
‘The permit?’
‘The piece.’
‘You want my weapon?’
‘Now.’
Drawing his own revolver, Wexlersh said, ‘Be real careful when you hand it over.’
Clearly astonished by Wexlersh’s tone and suspicion, Earl said, ‘You think I’m dangerous, for Christ’s sake?’
‘Just be careful,’ Wexlersh said coldly.
Handing his gun to Manuello, Earl said, ‘Why would I draw down on a cop?’
As Manuello stuck the pistol in the waistband of his trousers, the telephone rang.
Laura started to get up, and Manuello said, ‘Let it ring.’
‘But—’
‘Let it ring!’ Manuello repeated sharply.