Stalking The Angel

He nodded back at me.

Jillian said, 'We wanted to have the Hagakure on display there next week when the Pacific Men's Club names Bradley Man of the Month.'

Bradley gave me more of the eyebrows. 'I'm the first Caucasian they've honored this way. You know why? I've pumped three hundred million dollars into the local Asian community in the last thirty-six months. You got any idea how much money that is?'

'Excuse me,' I said. I pushed away from my desk, pitched myself out of my chair onto the floor, then got up, brushed myself off, and sat again. 'There. I'm finished being impressed. We can go on.'

Jillian Becker's face went white. Bradley Warren's face went dark red. His nostrils flared and his lips tightened and he stood up. It was lovely. He said, 'I don't like your attitude.'

'That's okay. I'm not selling it.' I opened the drawer in the center of my desk and tossed a cream-colored card toward him. He looked at it. 'What's this?'

'Pinkerton's. They're large. They're good. They're who you want. But they probably won't like your attitude any more than I do.' I stood up with him.

Jillian Becker stood up, too, and held out her hand the way you do when you want things to settle down. 'Mr. Cole, I think we've started on the wrong foot here.'

I leaned forward. 'One of us did.'

She turned toward Warren. 'It's a small firm, Bradley, but it's a quality firm. Two attorneys in the prosecutor's office recommended him. He's been an investigator for eight years and the police think highly of him. His references are impeccable.' Impeccable. I liked that.

Bradley Warren held the Pink's card and flexed it back and forth, breathing hard. He looked the way a man looks when he doesn't have any other choice and the choice he has is lousy. There's a Pinocchio clock on the wall beside the door that leads to Joe Pike's office. It has eyes that move from side to side. You go to the Pinkerton's, they don't have a clock like that. Jillian Becker said, 'Bradley, he's who you want to hire.'

After a while the heavy breathing passed and Bradley nodded. 'All right, Cole. I'll go along with Jillian on this and hire you.'

'No,' I said. 'You won't.'

Jillian Becker stiffened. Bradley Warren looked at Jillian Becker, then looked back at me. 'What do you mean, I won't?'

'I don't want to work for you.'

'Why not?'

'I don't like you.'

Bradley Warren started to say something, then stopped. His mouth opened, then closed. Jillian Becker looked confused. Maybe no one had ever before said no to Bradley Warren. Maybe it was against the law. Maybe Bradley Warren's personal police were about to crash through the door and arrest me for defying the One True Way. Jillian shook her head. 'They said you could be difficult.'

I shrugged. 'They should've said that when I'm pushed, I push back. They also should've said that when I do things, I do them my way.' I looked at Bradley. 'The check rents. It does not buy.'

Bradley Warren stared at me as if I had just beamed down from the Enterprise. He stood very still. So did Jillian Becker. They stood like that until a tic started beneath his left eye and he said, 'Jillian.'

Jillian Becker said, 'Mr. Cole, we need the Hagakure found, and we want you to find it. If we in some way offended you, we apologize.'

We.

'Will you help us?'

Her makeup was understated and appropriate, and there was a tasteful gold chain around her right wrist. She was bright and attractive and I wondered how many times she'd had to apologize for him and how it made her feel.

I gave her the Jack Nicholson smile and made a big deal out of sitting down again. 'For you, babe, anything.' Can you stand it?

Bradley Warren's face was red and purple and splotched, and the tic was a mad flicker. He made the hand gesture as quick as a cracking whip, and said, 'Write him a check and leave it blank. I'll be down in the limo.'

He left without looking at me and without offering his hand and without waiting for Jillian. When he was gone I said, 'My, my. Man of the Month.'

Jillian Becker took a deep breath, let it out, then sat in one of the director's chairs and opened the Gucci briefcase in her lap. She took out a corporate checkbook and spoke while she wrote. 'Mr. Cole, please understand that Bradley's under enormous pressure. We're on our way to Kyoto to tell the Tashiros what has happened. That will be neither pleasant nor easy.'

'Sorry,' I said. 'I should be more sensitive.'

She glanced up from the check with cool eyes. 'Maybe you should.'

So much for humor.

After a while, she put the check and a 3 x 5 index card on my desk. I didn't look at the check. She said, 'The card has Bradley's home and office addresses and phone numbers. It also has mine. You may call me at any time, day or night, for anything that pertains to this case.'

'Okay.'

'Will you need anything else?'

'Access to the house. I want to see where the book was and talk to anyone who knew that the book was there. Also, if there's a photograph or description of the manuscript, I'll need it.'

'Bradley's wife can supply that. At the house.'

'What's her name?'

'Sheila. Their daughter Mimi lives at the house, also, along with two housekeepers. I'll call Sheila and tell her to expect you.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

We were getting along just great.

Jillian Becker closed the Gucci briefcase, snapped its latch, stood, and went to the door. Maybe she hadn't always been this serious. Maybe working for Bradley brought it out in her.

'You do that well,' I said.

She looked back. 'What?'

'Walk.'

She gave me the cool eyes again. 'This is a business relationship, Mr. Cole. Let's leave it at that.'

'Sure.'

She opened the door.

'One more thing.'

She turned back to me.

'You always look this good, or is today a special occasion?'

She stood like that for a while, not moving, and then she shook her head. 'You really are something, aren't you?'

I made a gun out of my hand, pointed it at her, and gave her another dose of the Nicholson. 'I hope he pays you well.'

She went out and slammed the door.

Chapter 2

When the door closed I looked at the check. Blank. She hadn't dated it 1889 or April 1. It had been signed by Bradley Warren and, as far as I could tell, in ink that wouldn't vanish. Maybe a better detective would have known for sure about the ink, but I'd have to risk it. Son of a gun. My big chance. I could nick him for a