Hocus

He shrugged, as if to say this was to be expected. “When did you work here?” he asked.

“Right after college,” I said. “I interned at the Express, but my first full-time, paying job on a newspaper was here at the Californian.”

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Don’t let your friend know I’m with the police.”

Whatever feelings of goodwill I might have been building toward Cassidy were demolished with that request. “Forget it. Brandon is doing me a big favor by letting me into the building. I don’t work for this paper now, remember? He’s an old friend or I’d be locked out. I’m not lying to him. You’ll have to wait downstairs for me.”

I rang the night bell before Cassidy could say more, and a young security guard immediately let us in through the polished brass doors, which were locked on weekends, then went back to his desk to answer a phone. I saw a balding man of medium height waiting just inside the entry. He grinned as we walked in and extended a hand.

“Irene! God, it’s great to see you again!”

“Good to see you, too, Brandon,” I said, shaking hands.

He looked back at Cassidy. “Are you the fellow who called to set this up?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Cassidy replied. “I’m just Ms. Kelly’s ride.”

Brandon laughed. “What is this, Irene? You have all the men at the Express ready to satisfy your every whim?”

“If only you knew what a disgusting thought that is, Brandon,” I said. “No, this is Detective Thomas Cassidy of the Las Piernas Police Department.”

I saw Cassidy look up at the room’s high ceiling. Fairly certain he wasn’t suddenly interested in the patterns on the painted wood beams, I felt smug satisfaction at seeing his armor crack.

“Police?” Brandon was saying. “I’m sorry, but I can’t—”

“Detective Cassidy will be waiting right here.”

Cassidy, damn him, just smiled.

“Oh, well—”

“Mr. North,” Cassidy said in confiding tones, too soft for the security guard to overhear, “I wonder if I might ask you a few questions before you take the ungrateful Ms. Kelly on back to the library?”

Brandon seemed totally confused.

“Cassidy,” I warned, my irritation growing.

“I’m out of my jurisdiction, of course,” he said. “I could drive on over to the Bakersfield Police Department, which my own department has already contacted. I used my cell phone and spoke to someone there on the drive up here — Ms. Kelly was asleep, so she’s unaware that we’ve obtained their full cooperation.”

“Cassidy,” I tried again.

“They’d probably be happy to send someone over to question you, Mr. North,” he continued, “but then you’d have at least three people connected to law enforcement agencies walking around in your newspaper offices. Might attract attention.”

“Three?” Brandon asked.

“Ms. Kelly’s husband works with me.”

“Husband?” Brandon looked at me in surprise.

“You married a cop?”

Hearing Brandon’s exclamation, the security guard looked our way.

“Yes,” I said. “Look, Brandon, let’s step outside for a minute, okay?”

Five minutes later a sheen of perspiration had broken out on Brandon’s forehead.

“God, what a mess! Irene, if you had told me what was going on here, I would have understood. You must be worried sick.” He paused, then said, “Oh, Jesus — you’re saying I talked to a kidnapper!”

“Can you describe the voice of the man who called you on the phone?” Cassidy asked.

“A young man. I don’t know why I say that, but — he just sounded young.” He started pacing. He glanced at Cassidy, then said, “No accent. I mean, none that I could hear. Seemed well educated.”

“When did he call?” Cassidy asked.

“Yesterday. Just before I went home. About three-thirty. Said he was an intern working with Irene, that she had asked him to call. Told me she needed to look through the old files — something on microfilm — wondered would I help her out. I said, ‘Sure, tell me what it is and I’ll make a copy and fax it to her.’ He said she wanted to see me personally and she’d be up in Bakersfield today anyway. If I’d meet her at one-thirty, she’d look it up and then we could go out for a cup of coffee afterward. He got my fax number and said he’d send a list of the things she needed to see.” He turned to me. “Why do you think he told you to come to the paper, Irene?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it. I suppose I might have written a story that will have something to do with this. Some similar case, maybe. I was on the crime beat when I worked here.”

“Did he send the list?” Cassidy asked.

“Yes, a fax was waiting for me when I came in.”

“Recall anything else about him?”

“Oh, yeah. He was very friendly. He sounded polite. He said Irene had told him all about me and my family.