uniform didn’t do anything for her. They knocked on the open door to gain her attention. When she looked up, Drake spoke, telling her they were from Giganticorp and how pleased Mr. Messinger had been with her service.
She looked surprised. “Mr. Messinger? Yes, he was here, but I not see him much. Wait.” She blushed. “I see him when he was leaving. He ask me to come into the room. He give me a big tip.” She pronounced it “teep.” “Then he pat my ass and tell me I’m a good girl.”
Melody couldn’t restrain herself. “He patted your…ass? Weren’t you offended?”
“If he give me a big tip, he can pat anywhere he wants.”
Drake reached out the twenty to her. “He wanted me to give you this.”
“But he doesn’t get to pat anything,” Melody said quickly.
Cecilia laughed and thanked them.
Drake said, “You mentioned that you didn’t see much of Mr. Messinger when he was here. Did he actually stay here all three nights, do you know?”
“It is funny. The first morning when I come in to make the bed, I see that it has not been slept in. The second morning it is the same. I think he only sleep here one night.”
Drake and Melody looked at each other. Melody smiled at Cecilia. “Thank you, Cecilia, for…giving such good service.”
While they were waiting for their flight back to San Jose, Drake called Blade collect from an airport pay phone. He had left his office, but the woman who answered patched the call through to another number.
Blade came on the line. “Aren’t you calling a little early? You’re slipping. You didn’t even wake me up. What are you doing, taking the day off?”
“Hardly. It’s true we didn’t run today, but Melody and I are in Los Angeles investigating the perambulations of our mark.”
“Yeah? What did you find out?”
Drake quickly filled him in on what they knew and suspected about Casey’s activities on the day of Grace’s death. “He put five hundred miles on the car that aren’t accounted for, even though we know he drove to San Luis Obispo once. That’s enough mileage to cover a second trip there.”
Drake also repeated what Cecilia had told them about Casey not sleeping at the Hilton until the third night of his reservation. “The second night he slept in San Luis Obispo. We know that. But the first night he apparently didn’t sleep anywhere.”
When he finished speaking there was silence on the other end of the line. Drake waited for Blade to say something.
He did after a ten second pause. “Sounds like you’ve got a good circumstantial case against our friend. Unfortunately, we can’t convict on that. Even if an investigation showed that he was lying when he said he was attending a breakfast meeting around the time the girl was killed, that’s still not enough. You haven’t placed him at the scene or produced a weapon.”
“If we can’t convict him in a courtroom, we may do it on our own.”
“Do not take any independent action. This is still a nation of laws, although it may not seem so at times. You two are doing a good job. Keep at it. But talk to me before you do anything foolish.”
Blade’s usually carefree manner had disappeared during that speech. Drake knew he was serious. He decided he’d better back off. “Well, the least you can do is to reimburse our air fare.”
“What, and encourage you to flit around the country? It’s a good thing you two are rich.”
“By the way, how did our friend’s chat with the president go?”
“He speaks softly, but he may be carrying a big stick. However, we can’t make accusations about him without something to back them up.”
CHAPTER 33
Today’s run goes from Bonny Doon Road in Santa Cruz County to the intersection of Route 84 in San Mateo County near San Gregorio State Beach, all on Route 1. The terrain is relatively flat, compared to some of the hills you’ve seen in the past. Now that you’re rested from your day off, it should be a day of high-speed running. You’ll be close to the water and see lots of pretty beaches.
“This is not what I signed up for.”
Drake couldn’t tell who had uttered the complaint. The timbre of the voice behind him was changed by the headwind that was sapping the strength of the runners. It was also blowing sand in their faces, creating the illusion of being jabbed by hundreds of tiny needles. Some of the runners were trying to counteract the sand by wearing caps with the bills pulled low to protect their eyes, but sudden gusts of wind blew them off with regularity.
Drake, who was wearing dark glasses, turned to Melody who didn’t seem to be affected by the elements. It was almost as if the wind and sand sailed right through her body without touching it. He felt a tinge of envy. “If we get any closer together we’ll all have to get married.”
“We’re huddled like a herd of zebra on the Serengeti fending off a pride of lions.”
Nobody wanted to take the lead and face the brunt of the wind and sand. As a consequence, they ran slowly with the lead changing often, the runners who were farther back being sheltered to some extend by those in front. Drake and Melody were content to stay with the group as long as they didn’t get stepped on, because breaking away in the headwind would sap their strength at a disproportionate rate.
Because they were so close to the others, they couldn’t talk about Casey. They had discussed him on the plane ride back to San Jose without reaching any conclusion as to what to do. Being quite certain that he had killed Grace and being able to prove it were two different matters. They felt frustrated and had an urge to become vigilantes, taking matters into their own hands, but as Blade had pointed out, they couldn’t do that.
Drake had barely entered his motel room when the phone rang. He was tired from running into the wind most of the day and didn’t feel like speaking to anyone. After the third ring he figured he’d better answer it.
“Drake.”
“Turn on the telly, channel seven.” Melody’s voice sounded urgent.
“Are we about to be hit by a meteor?”
“Worse. Just turn it on.”
Drake hung up and clicked on the television set. When the picture appeared on channel seven, Casey’s face filled the screen in glorious black and white. It took Drake a few seconds to understand what he was talking about. He heard the words “impeach the president” and “martial law,” before he realized that although he didn’t say it in so many words, Casey was advocating the overthrow of the government.
His pitch was that the U.S. was under attack by an unnamed “foreign power,” and that this fact had not been acknowledged by the president who had attempted to hide the truth, leading one to infer that the president was in cahoots with the enemy. If the president refused to take action, it was up to the American people to defend themselves by enabling the military to take proper defensive measures. The country needed a strong leader in a time of peril.
Casey didn’t say who this leader might be, but anyone watching the broadcast who bought what he was saying would come to the obvious conclusion. Casey mentioned his complete dedication to the well-being of his country, as exemplified by his design and production of weapons essential for the country’s defense for the past twenty years. Almost tearfully, he said that he didn’t want the efforts of all those who labored for peace at Giganticorp and in the armed forces to go to waste. In closing, he called for the country to unite, and without
