answered. 'Lucille Kenmore. How may I help you?'
'You're the chaplain?' I asked.
'Yes, I am.'
'Did you just send someone up for Linda Decker on the ninth floor?'
'No, I certainly didn't. I'm involved in a conference right now. If you could just leave your number…'
I handed the phone back to the nurse. My mind was racing. If the person who came for Linda Decker wasn't from the chaplain's office, then it was someone who had lied to the guard to gain access.
I turned to the guard. 'How long ago did they leave?'
'Not that long ago. A few minutes maybe. I'm surprised you didn't run into them in the elevator.'
The nurse was looking at me. 'Is there a problem?'
'Do you have a phone number for Jimmy Rising's sister?'
'Yes, but…'
'No buts. Get it for me and get it fast. She may have been taken out of here against her will.'
The guard shook his head, looking skeptical. 'I doubt that. She knew the guy. She called him by name.'
'What name?'
'Harry.'
Harry Campbell. Shit! A wave of gooseflesh washed down my legs. My guess was that somehow Campbell had stumbled onto the fact that we were after him and he had decided to buy himself a little insurance. If one hostage was good, three would be better.
I wheeled on the nurse, who still hadn't moved. 'Get me that number and get it now!' I barked.
'This is highly irregular.'
'Look, lady, don't you understand? Lives are at stake!'
That finally jarred her loose. She took a metal-covered chart from its place on the counter and ran her finger down the first page. 'Here it is,' she said. 'Would you like me to dial it for you?'
When she handed me the receiver I could hear a phone ringing at the other end. It was on its sixth ring when someone finally answered, a woman's voice still thick and groggy with sleep.
'Is Linda there?' I asked.
'No. Oh, wait. Maybe she came in and I didn't hear her.'
'But this is where she's staying?'
'Yes, but she's been at the hospital most of the time.'
'Are her kids there?'
'Yes, but…'
'Listen to me, and listen very carefully. My name's Beaumont, Detective J. P. Beaumont with the Seattle Police.'
'Oh, I remember you, Detective Beaumont. I'm Sandy. Remember? From micrographics.'
That was almost more than I could have hoped for-someone I knew. I wouldn't have to start the explanations from scratch. 'Sandy,' I said, 'you've got to get those kids out of there.'
'But they're asleep.'
'Listen. I only have time to say this once. Wake them up. Get them out of the house. Where do you live?'
'On the back side of Queen Anne Hill just a few blocks from Northwest Center,' she answered. 'I usually walk to work.'
'Load those kids into your car. You do have a car, don't you?'
'Yes.'
'Take them somewhere, anywhere. My place. Do you know where Belltown Terrace is at Second and Broad?'
'I've driven past it.'
'Take the kids there. Now. Call my apartment. A man named Ames will answer. Tell him I told you to come there and wait, understand?'
'But what's the rush?'
'I can't explain now, Sandy, but hurry. Please. Give me your address.'
Sandy Carson's street address was on 13th. I took it down and then dropped both the phone and the note into the mystified guard's hand. 'Call 911,' I ordered. 'Have them send a squad car to this address. No lights and no sirens, got that? Tell them to wait for me there.' I headed for the elevator.
'Yes, but…'
'And get hold of Sergeant Watkins. Give him a message for me. Tell him that if Kramer and Davis are still in Edmonds, they're barking up the wrong goddamned tree. That's where they need to be. The address in your hand.'
The elevator door slid shut behind me. The ride was surprisingly quick. It went all the way from the ninth floor to the bottom without stopping for anyone else. I couldn't believe my luck. As soon as I got on the street, though, I realized I'd screwed up. I had no idea what kind of car Harry Campbell might be driving, and I had no way of finding out. Once more I wished I had taken Ames' advice and installed a cellular phone in the 928.
The engine of the Porsche roared to life when I turned the key. Pulling a fast U-turn on Jefferson, I headed back toward Boren. The lights ahead of me turned green as I started down the hill. Fortunately, there weren't any stray pedestrians. And no traffic cops, either. I was doing sixty when I had to slow down for the Y at Stewart.
There was a car ahead of me, and I just made the yellow arrow onto Denny Way. The lights had been with me from the top of the hill. I knew I was making incredibly good time, but all the speed in the world would be meaningless unless Harry Campbell was going where I thought he was going.
On Denny Way my luck with the traffic came to an end. There was a car, an older-model Datsun, poking along in the left-hand lane ahead of me, and a Chevron gasoline tanker tooling along at my side. I flashed my high beams at the Datsun. Instead of moving to the right out of the way, it slowed, swerved toward the left, and straddled the yellow traffic divider in the middle of the roadway without leaving enough room between it and the tanker for me to pass.
Just then the driver's door flew open and a body fell out of the front seat of the Datsun, rolling over and over into the oncoming lane. My steel-belted radials smoked to a stop as I stood on the brakes, and the driver of the tanker blared his horn. Suddenly the body on the street rose to its feet and came scrambling toward me, arms waving frantically. I recognized Linda Decker's face as she grabbed desperately for my door.
'Please help me,' she gasped, wrenching my door open. 'Help me. He's got a gun.'
'Get in, quick,' I told her. 'He won't get away.'
She stopped and stared at me. 'It's you!' she exclaimed. 'How did you find me?'
'Never mind. Get in the car, goddamnit.'
The truck driver had stopped half a block away and now he too came dashing up to the Porsche. 'Lady, are you all right? Is something the matter?'
By then Linda was finally moving toward the rider's door. I leaned out the window and called to the truck driver. 'Do you have a CB in that rig?'
He nodded. 'Sure.'
'Notify Seattle P.D. There's a fugitive in that Datsun up there. His name's Harry Campbell. He's armed and dangerous. What's your license number, Linda?'
She was crying, but she managed to choke out an answer. I started to relay it to the driver, but he waved me on. 'Got it,' he said and started back for his truck while I rammed the gas pedal to the floor and we shot forward. Ahead of us, the taillights from the Datsun bounced back over the median and into traffic. Campbell was still heading west on Denny.
'He said he had my kids, that they were down in the car. That's why I went with him. He wanted me to drive him to Canada, using us as cover. He took me down the stairs,' she added. 'He was afraid we might meet somebody in the elevator.'
'He was right,' I said grimly. 'You would have.'
'I thought he'd done something to the kids, but when I found out they weren't in the car, that he wanted me to drive him to the house, I decided I'd try to get away from him before we got there.'
'You did great,' I told her. 'And the kids are fine. I told Sandy Carson to take them to my place.'
