“I’ll go with you. You may have the beauty, but I have the brains.”
“Fine. Let’s catch up to Phil and Brian and plot our strategy for dealing with Fred.”
CHAPTER 32
“How long have you worked for Giganticorp?” Melody asked Charles.
Fred’s new assistant was driving the company car. He changed lanes to pass a truck. “It’ll be a year in October.”
“How do you like working for Big G?”
“It’s wonderful. Great place to work. Interesting jobs, lots of opportunity for advancement…”
Since all the employees gave the same line, there must be some truth to it, Drake reflected. “How do you like Casey?”
“Mr. Messinger? I haven’t had much contact with him, but when he sees me in the hall, he smiles at me and says hello. He must be a nice man.”
Fred had volunteered to have Charles drive them to the San Jose Airport. After Fred agreed to give the runners the day off, he decided to send Charles to the corporate headquarters in San Jose on some errand, since they were so close, even though it was Saturday. This meant that Melody and Drake didn’t have to rent a car or find some other means of getting to the airport.
Drake wondered whether they had exhausted Charles’ fund of information about Casey.
“I guess Mr. Messinger travels a lot.”
“I guess so. He seems to be gone most of the time.”
“Are you aware of it when he’s on a trip?”
“Naw. I work in another building. It’s not my job to watch him.” Charles laughed.
They flew T amp;A Airlines to LAX, so called because the stewardesses dressed provocatively, including wearing hot pants. Drake knew the rule about not ogling other women when you were with one, but he snuck surreptitious glances at the sexy young ladies, even while a small area in the back of his brain that he usually tried to suppress asked whether this was the correct corporate culture for a public company.
They had no luggage, so they walked off the plane directly into the Los Angeles summer sun. They boarded one of the Avis vans that circled the airport and arrived at the Avis lot a few blocks from the terminal within minutes. They wore their Running California jackets with the Giganticorp logos, thoughtfully provided by Big G. Drake wore a tie borrowed from Peaches. Melody wore a skirt, a blouse, and pantyhose. They strode confidently into the office.
They waited in line for an available agent. When it was their turn, they went up to the counter. The agent was a woman, so per previous agreement, Drake addressed her with a big smile.
“Good morning. We’re with Giganticorp, the L.A. office. Our president, Casey Messinger, recently rented a car here. There were some questions about the rental, but, unfortunately, the invoice has been lost. We’d like to get another copy.”
The woman went behind a partition and brought back a man who was evidently the manager. This time Melody repeated the story to him. When he heard the Giganticorp name, he seemed to become more alert.
“I’m Andy Teller. We at Avis appreciate your business. What was the date of the rental?”
“August eighteenth.”
“Let me check.”
They twiddled their thumbs while the man disappeared behind the partition. Minutes passed before he returned empty-handed.
“Our records are in a bit of a mess, but I couldn’t find it. Are you sure it was the eighteenth?”
Drake hit the side of his head with his hand.
“You know what? We may have that wrong. It may have been the seventeenth.”
The man disappeared again.
Melody said, “If we keep changing the date, he’s going to get suspicious.”
“Keep your fingers crossed.” Drake suited action to the word.
The man was shaking his head when he reappeared. Melody said, “Do you keep track of rentals by customer? The president’s name is Casey Messinger.”
“We do that on the computer at the corporate office. We have to put in a request to get the information overnight. I could have it for you tomorrow.”
“Too late. It’s a shame, because Mr. Messinger really loves the service that Avis gives. He always tries to rent a Lincoln Continental.”
“Did you say Lincoln Continental? We’ve only had one of those on the lot recently. We keep our records by car, too. Let me check that file.”
More agonizing minutes went by. Drake remembered that one thing he didn’t like about the spy business was the time spent waiting for something to happen-for example, waiting for the person under surveillance to make a move. When the man finally returned, he was smiling and carrying some paperwork.
“I’m glad you mentioned that it was a Continental. Mr. Messinger rented it on the eighteenth and turned it in on the twenty-first. I don’t know why I couldn’t find it the first time.”
He handed Drake the copy of the invoice. Drake looked the sheets over quickly. The starting and ending mileage were recorded.
“Thank you very much. We knew that Avis would come through for us. That’s why our corporate policy is to rent from Avis. We wouldn’t rent from anyone else.”
They both shook hands with Andy Teller and walked outside. Melody smiled. “Our corporate policy is to rent from Avis? We wouldn’t rent from anyone else? When you get going, you really sling the bull.”
“Hey, we got what we came for, didn’t we? Now, onward to the Hilton. It’s only a few blocks from here.”
“Nice day for a walk. Or would you rather run to stay in shape?”
They walked. Casey had mentioned that he always stayed at the Airport Hilton in L.A. The hotel stood amid a number of others with familiar names to travelers, on the traffic-heavy Century Boulevard. Once inside, they employed the same strategy they had with Avis. Melody spoke to the male desk clerk.
In response to his “Good afternoon,” she responded, “Good afternoon” and recited the story of Casey staying there and needing a copy of the paperwork. Fortunately, she now knew that he had probably been registered for three nights starting August eighteenth.
The desk clerk found the information and made a copy, all within five minutes. That was interesting, but not what they really wanted. Melody thanked him, thought for a moment, and then spoke again.
“When Mr. Messinger stayed here, he was very impressed with the service he received from one of your maids. He asked us to give her something.”
Drake flashed a twenty-dollar bill.
“Do you know her name?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Messinger never caught her name.”
The desk clerk checked the room number on the bill and made a phone call. Two minutes later he hung up the phone in triumph.
“Her name’s Cecilia. I’d be glad to see that she gets the money.”
He held out his hand.
Melody said, “Mr. Messinger asked us to give her the money in person, along with his thanks. Is she working now? We don’t want to take her away from her work, so we’d be more than happy to go to the floor she’s on.”
The clerk didn’t see anything sinister about that. He ascertained Cecilia’s whereabouts with another phone call and directed them to the fifth floor. They took the elevator.
They found her in one of the rooms changing the bed. She was young and attractive, although the gray maid’s
