'Did you know her?' I said.
'No. I didn't come here until 1987.'
'Anyone that might have known her?'
'I doubt it. There is rapid staff turnover. And even those who have remained with us have no reason to remember her. We get a great many people through here.'
'How many employees you have on staff?'
'One hundred and fifty-three,' Ito said. 'Three shifts.'
'You got a company newsletter?'
Ito nodded. 'Yes,' he said. 'I could put a notice in there asking if anyone remembered her. Do you have a card?'
I gave him the dignified one, where it says Investigations under my name and address. The one where I'm pictured shirtless with a knuckle knife in my teeth I save for the hoodlums. Ito put the card in his desk drawer and riffled through the file again.
'She would be what, about thirty-one now?' he said.
'Yes. She appears to have turned her life around before she disappeared.'
'Social worker's report indicates that she was eager, Mrs. Eaton says `desperate,' to improve herself. Might she have simply left her husband as a means of continuing her self-improvement?'
'Husband's a pretty good man,' I said. 'But yes, it's possible. On the other hand, he was shot and badly wounded a few days after she disappeared.'
'Which you assume is not coincidence.'
'It's a useful assumption,' I said. 'It gives me a theory to work on.'
'Yes,' Ito said. He paused as he riffled the file and looked at one entry for a moment.
'Here's something,' he said, 'that may help you. Miss Richard was seen by a Beverly Hills psychiatrist named Madeleine St. Claire.'
'St. Claire?' I said.
'Yes. She's quite a prominent doctor in Los Angeles, and once a week she comes down here and works with our patients. Pro bono.'
'It's the name Lisa took when she came east.'
'As you say, coincidences are not useful-.'
'You have her address?'
'Yes.'
He wrote on his prescription pad again.
'And I'll call her if you wish, and tell her you're coming.'
He handed me the address. I folded it and put it beside the other one in my pocket.
'You have my card,' I said. 'Anybody remembers anything about Angela Richard, you'll get in touch.'
'Certainly,' Ito said.
We stood. He shook hands with me.
I said, 'Thank you, Doctor.'
'Will her husband recover?' Dr. Ito said.
'From being shot, they think so.'
'It is possible,' Ito said, 'that she is drinking again, and it is related to her disappearance. That sort of thing happens.'
'I know it does,' I said. 'And I hope it's not the explanation.'
'What explanation do you hope for?' Ito said.
'I'm goddamned if I know, Doctor.'
'Yes,' he said. 'That makes it difficult.'
Chapter 19
The Venice address was now a motorcycle repair shop, and probably not even that for long. The building smelled of decay and dampness. The paint had weathered off, and the framing around the doors and windows was sagging badly.
I talked to the proprietor, a tall bony guy in a Harley logo tank top and black jeans. He had a gold tooth and a three-week beard and the name Lenny tattooed crudely along both forearms. He was smoking a joint when I arrived, but it didn't seem to have made him mellow. He looked at me like I might be a field rep from the Moral Majority. I smiled heartily.
'Lenny around?' I said.
'I'm Lenny.'
