couldn’t take a shortcut across the tiny patch of grass Arturo called his lawn because it had grown in. Soon the neighbors would start complaining again.
Claudia contemplated the garage door. One thing she could say about herself. She might have arthritis in her fingers, but there was still some strength in her arms. She leaned over, her old bones creaking, and lifted the garage door. It swung open easier than she expected. The guy living in there must have done something to it, oiled it maybe.
When the door opened, the light came on automatically. Claudia walked inside. For a minute she thought the car was Arturo’s car, that no time had passed, and she was going in there to catch him at it. But then she remembered. This car was a Ford. She was in here to scold somebody else. She almost tripped over Arturo’s lawn mower that was so old it didn’t even have a motor. She climbed the stairs slowly, holding the railing, and when she got to the top, she banged on the door three times. No one answered.
She knocked some more.
“Hey,” she said. “I know you’re in there.”
There was a long silence and then a reply right on the other side of the door. “What do you want?”
“You said you weren’t going to do anything,” Claudia cried peevishly.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“I
“No way.”
“Yes, there’s a woman in there,” Claudia insisted.
“What makes you think so?”
The voice on the other side of the door sounded reasonable. That sound of reason reminded her of Arturo. It irritated her.
“I’m not stupid. I have eyes and ears. I saw her. I won’t have this.” It was an old argument. “I’m not running a whorehouse. You’ll have to get her out of there.”
“What are you talking about?” The voice was angry.
“I said you’ll have to take that woman and get her out of here. I won’t have no dirty stuff in my house. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“There’s no woman in here, I promise you.”
“Yes,” Claudia cried. “Oh, yes, there is. I saw her.”
“Okay, okay. There was a woman, but she’s gone. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Open the door. I can’t talk like this.”
“I can’t, I’m not dressed. I was sleeping.”
“This is my house. If she’s gone, I want to see she’s gone.”
“I told you I was sleeping. I got no clothes on.”
“Then put some clothes on.”
There was a pause, and then the voice was soothing again.
“Lady, I think you’re all excited for nothing. So I had somebody here for a while. It’s a free country. I told you she’s gone now. Forget about it.”
“I want to see she’s gone,” Claudia insisted. “It’s my house. Do you want me to call the police? I’ll call the police. I got a friend in the police. You want him to take care of it?”
There was another lengthy silence.
“You hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
In a second the door opened, and Claudia shuffled in. The door closed after her before she had a chance to protest.
65
April sat with Dr. Frank for over an hour in an empty questioning room downstairs. She could see that the doctor hadn’t taken the time to shave or change his clothes since she met with him at eight that morning. She figured he probably hadn’t eaten anything since then, either. It was three o’clock. She ordered him a sandwich.
He shook his head when it came. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
“It won’t help to starve,” she said. She opened it and left it there. Tuna fish and lettuce on white toast. It smelled pretty good to her.
“Coffee?”
“Thanks.” He took the coffee and drank some. Eventually, without appearing to be aware of it, he started eating the sandwich.
Between bites, he described where Grebs had lived when he was a kid. On Twenty-eighth Street in downtown San Diego. He described the plant where Grebs worked as a draftsman for jet engines at Lindbergh Field, San Diego’s airport. He told April that Grebs now lived on a street called Queen Palm Way, off Crown Avenue.
“He could be in Crown Heights.”
April shook her head. “Crown Heights is in Brooklyn. Too far from the airports. More coffee?”
“No, thanks.” He pushed the cup away.
April closed her notebook. “Well, I think we’ve about covered it.” He’d finished giving her everything he had. A quarter of the sandwich was left, but she didn’t think he was going to eat it.
The clock on the wall said it was three forty-five. Sanchez had been gone for nearly two hours. Why hadn’t she heard from him? She’d left word upstairs for someone to come get her if he called.
“Well, let’s go.” Dr. Frank gathered up his notes.
“Where do you want to go?”
“I’ve given you enough. Let’s get a car and go find her.”
“Dr. Frank, it doesn’t work that way. Hiding places don’t just pop out at you from the street.”
April lived in Queens and knew it very well. She could visualize a number of things he described. The entrance to the Triboro Bridge was only a few blocks from her house. Airplanes flew overhead day and night. Still, you had to have more to go on. It was a huge city. You couldn’t just run out to a place you thought a killer might be without knowing what you were going to do when you got there.
He shoved the papers into his briefcase furiously. “Are you telling me you’re just going to sit here? You’re not going to go out and look for her?”
He didn’t get it. Nobody was sitting around. The whole precinct was taking this case very seriously. When a person receiving threatening letters suddenly disappears under suspicious circumstances, there’s reason for investigation. Emma Chapman’s desperate message on her husband’s answering machine saying she was held by someone planning to kill her was reason for a major investigation. That’s what they were doing, a major investigation—on April Woo’s case.
And the only reason three thousand reporters weren’t outside hounding them for pictures and information was that not a word about it had gone out on the police radios. It wouldn’t be long before someone got a tip, but for now no one in the press knew a famous actress had been kidnapped. Everyone at the Two-O wanted to keep it that way. Word from the top was to keep their mouths shut. They didn’t want Grebs killing her in a panic because he saw his face on TV.
April was very well aware of all the time factors. A life-and-death situation was bad enough without the press lowering their odds of saving the woman.
“No, I didn’t say I wasn’t looking for her, Dr. Frank.” April got up and threw the garbage from his lunch into an overflowing wastebasket in the corner. “But there’s no point in going out in the field until I have my ducks in a row.”
“What ducks?” Jason demanded. “Every second counts if we want to find her alive.”
“I know that. There are a lot of us working on this. We’re waiting for some information before we make a move.”
“Jesus, what information?”
“I’m waiting for a voice confirmation on the nine-one-one call from Queens. Remember, you listened to it, but
