The southbound traffic on 101 was lighter than the northbound traffic heading into San Francisco and the airport shuttle I was riding in made good time to the airport. The weather became sunnier and warmer as we went farther south.
The newspapers at an airport shop had front-page stories about Ned. I bought one and scanned it as I was waiting at the gate. The story of the shooting didn't say anything I didn't already know. It described Ned as a high- tech pioneer. Dionysus was mentioned but I wasn't. Good.
The window seat beside me on the plane was empty; it was Ned's seat. I moved into it after the plane took off, to get away from the large man in the aisle seat, who really needed a seat and a half, and although I rarely slept on airplanes I dozed most of the way to LA.
After we landed at LAX I raced along the aisles, dodging other passengers like a running back. I rode down the escalators and then strode outside to the noise and fumes of motor vehicles cruising by. A security officer with a reflective shirt appeared from nowhere whenever a driver tried to park and wait for an arriving passenger. In a time of heightened security everybody had to keep moving.
My plan was to catch an airport shuttle home. Suddenly, Arrow appeared in front of me, breathless. I gave her a startled 'Hi' and she said, 'I was afraid I'd miss you. Richard asked me to pick you up and take you by the office for a debriefing.'
Before I could protest she grabbed my bag and led the way across the airport access road, where the cars, limos and a myriad of vans and buses-parking lot shuttles, rental car shuttles, hotel shuttles and airport shuttles-all tried to violate a law of physics by fitting into the same space at the same time. The metered parking lot had been permanently closed so Arrow had parked in the short-term lot, which had a minimum charge of three dollars. Well, at least I didn’t have to pay it. The noise and confusion precluded much talking until we had stowed the suitcase in the trunk of her car and climbed inside.
As she backed out of the parking place Arrow said, 'You must have had a horrible night.'
'Not as bad as Ned's,' I said, wondering how her night had been. She was wearing slacks and a sweater and didn't look as put together as she had yesterday.
'Poor Ned. I can't believe it. I was asleep when Richard called me to ask about your hotel. I hardly slept at all after that.'
I felt like a traitor because of the few hours of sleep I'd had. I asked, 'How is my father taking it?'
'He's calm on the surface, but inside is a different matter. I believe he's badly shaken. He asked me to go to Elma Mackay's house this morning, to help her in any way I could. He also wants me to do a complete evaluation of her financial situation, partly to find out whether Ned has squandered a lot of money. I'm afraid Elma is one of those women whose financial knowledge is limited to writing checks from what she considers to be an ever-flowing artesian well of funds, but never balancing her checkbook.'
Arrow said the last in a disapproving manner and I would have laughed, had it not been for the gravity of the situation.
'And then Richard called me at Elma's house,' Arrow continued, 'and asked me to pick you up. Since it was almost time for your plane to land I was afraid I'd miss you. Fortunately, the plane was about ten minutes late.'
It was not like my father to do things at the last minute. He must be very upset.
The headquarters of Dionysus was in one of the many buildings in one of the many office complexes that dot the landscape in Torrance. The buildings invariably look new because they are well maintained and well landscaped, and have spacious parking lots for their employees.
The flag on top of the Dionysus building was at half-mast. I hadn't been inside for several years, but it still looked the same to me, with its cubicles and computers, except that the computers were more modern and the employees in front of them were more casually dressed. Also, the mood of the people I saw was subdued.
Arrow led the way to my father's office, actually a large cubicle. Nobody had an enclosed office. My father was on the phone so we stopped at the cubicle of his admin, who was a young man, as my father had told me. The first thing I noticed about him was that he was wearing an earring; that was also new to my business experience. I wasn't as surprised that his short-sleeved shirt-some shade of purple-was unbuttoned enough to reveal curly chest hair.
He gave Arrow a hint of a smile and said, 'A sad day.'
'Yes,' Arrow said. 'Karl, this is John. John, this is Karl.'
'Karl, I've been dying to meet you ever since I came here,' John said, exuberantly, getting up from his chair and pumping my hand. 'You look just like your father.'
I murmured something I hoped was polite, but he was checking his telephone lights and said, 'Richard is off the phone now. Arrow, get your sweet ass into his office.' And to me, 'Ta ta, Karl.'
Arrow and I walked around the corner, with me looking at her. She said, in a low voice, 'I know what you're thinking, but coming from him that's not sexual harassment.'
'But from me it would be?'
'It depends on which persona you have on.'
I would have said 'touche' but we were entering my father's cubicle, which was large enough to have several comfortable chairs in addition to a table that served as his desk. I had never seen him look so haggard. It was obvious he hadn't slept much, either. I was particularly startled because he had never looked like an old man to me before. Would I look like that in 30 years?
My father said, 'Hi, Karl, I'm glad you're back safely.' He came out from behind his table and shook my hand. He said, 'Have a seat,' indicating two of the chairs to Arrow and me, and sat in the third one.
'How is Elma holding up?' he asked Arrow.
'She's a trooper,' Arrow said. 'She's already starting to make plans for a memorial service. Since it isn't clear when Ned's body will be released because of the autopsy, she's going to go ahead with a service and have Ned cremated.'
'What about the money situation?'
'Elma doesn't have a clue, and so I don't, either-yet. It will take some digging, but I'll get the answers.'
'I was afraid of that. Keep me informed. Karl, how did you make out with the police?'
'They asked me where I'd been. I walked from my hotel to James Buchanan's house and it turns out that I was quite close to Ned about the time he was killed. I hope that doesn't make me a suspect.'
'Not likely. Do they have any leads?'
'It didn't sound like it. Since he was found in a dumpster they think it might have been more than one person.'
My father frowned. 'Did Ned tell you that his business meeting had been cancelled?'
'No! When was it cancelled?'
'Yesterday morning. I talked to one of the people he was supposed to be meeting with. She said she called him and he answered the phone himself. He was very pleasant and thanked her for calling. But apparently he didn't tell anybody else, including his admin.'
'That's bizarre,' Arrow said. 'He certainly never let on to me.
'Which brings us to the question,' my father said, 'of what he was doing from the time he dropped Karl off until he was killed.'
'The police are asking that question too,' I said. 'He appeared to be nervous when he dropped me off at my hotel, if that's any help.'
'Tell me how you got involved with James Buchanan.' My father looked at me in what I recognized as a disapproving manner.
I told the story in a few sentences, leaving out the backgammon game.
'Do you know who James Buchanan is?' my father asked, when I had finished.
'He apparently runs some sort of a company, but I don't know what it does.'
“ James Buchanan is founder, CEO and major shareholder of a conglomerate called Tartan Enterprises that owns a number of other companies.”
