“Because Jenna asked for you.”
Keyes sat down hard. His heart was skipping along nicely now. All he could think was: Cab better not be lying.
“I told her I didn’t think it was fair,” Mulcahy said with a sigh. “But she’s very worried about him. She said it would be a great favor if I asked you to look into it, and not some stranger.”
Keyes knew it wouldn’t do any good to lecture himself about Jenna, and it was pointless to act like he was going to waltz out of Mulcahy’s office and forget the whole thing. The old man was right—it wasn’t fair.
Mulcahy was careful not to go on too much about Jenna. “Please, Brian, will you try to find Wiley? We’ll pay you five hundred a day, plus expenses.”
“Jesus, you guys are really scared of what he might do!”
Mulcahy nodded glumly. “He’s got a considerable temper, as you know. Watching him these last few months has been unsettling, to say the least. I’m sure you read the infamous hurricane column, or maybe some of the others. ‘Rats as Big as Bulldogs Stalk Condo.’ ‘Snakes Infest Bathroom Plumbing at Posh Resort.’ ‘Mystery Disease Sweeps Shuffle-board Tourney.’ Wiley was very shrewd about it. One day he’d write a rousing Good Samaritan column, then a funny man-on-the-street piece, then a tearjerker about some little kid with cancer … and then he’d quietly slip in one of those gems. He became single-minded about it. He became … perverse.” The editor lowered his voice. “I think this disappearance is part of a plan. I think he intends to embarrass the newspaper in some extraordinary way.”
“You don’t think he’s playing games just to get a raise?”
Mulcahy shook his head firmly.
“What about the possibility that something really happened? Maybe Skip got kidnapped.”
“Maybe that’s what he wants us to think,” Mulcahy said, “but I don’t buy it, Brian. No, if I know Wiley, he’s out there,”—Mulcahy waved a manicured hand toward the bay window—”biding his time, enjoying the hell out of this. And I want him found.”
“Suppose I do,” Keyes said.
“Call me immediately. Don’t do a thing. I’m not asking you to confront him, I’d never do that. Just find him, tell me where he is. Leave the rest up to us.”
“You and Jenna?”
“He listens to her,” Mulcahy said apologetically.
“He worships her,” Keyes said. “It’s not the same thing.”
“You’ll take the case?”
Keyes didn’t answer right away, but he knew what he’d say. Of course he’d take the case. Part of it was the money, part of it was Jenna, and part of it was that goddamn brilliant Wiley. A long time ago it would have been pure fun, tracking down an old comrade lost on a binge. But that was before Jenna. Fun was now out of the question.
Keyes told himself: This will be a test, that’s all. To see how thick is the scar.
“Let’s wait twenty-four hours, Cab. In the meantime, why don’t you run one of Ricky Bloodworth’s columns in Skip’s slot tomorrow? Run the kid’s picture, too. If that doesn’t make Wiley surface, then maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s something serious this time.”
“Brian, I don’t know about Bloodworth … “
“I understand he’s chomping at the bit. So publish one of his masterpieces. And if that doesn’t bring Wiley charging back to the newsroom tomorrow, I’ll take the case.”
“It’s a deal. And you can start first thing.”
“We’ll see,” Keyes said. “Believe it or not, Cab, I’ve got other clients with worse problems than yours.”
“What could be worse than a maniac like Wiley?”
“For starters, there’s a very nice lady whose husband vanished in broad daylight on Miami Beach, and there’s also a not-so-nice Cuban burglar in the county jail looking at Murder One.”
“Not anymore.” It was Bloodworth himself, inserting his rodent face through a crack in the door.
“This is a private conference!” Mulcahy barked.
“Wait a second. Ricky, what is it?”
“I thought you ought to know, Brian. Just got word from the police desk.” Bloodworth waved a notebook momentously. “Ernesto Cabal killed himself about an hour ago.”
8
Viceroy Wilson came into the room wearing tight red Jockey shorts and nothing else. This vision would have provoked cries of glee or terror from most women, but Renee LeVoux was speechless. Viceroy Wilson had stuffed a towel in her mouth before lashing her to the bed the night before.