Hetcher drove home in great anticipation of his next conversation with Kerney. He would reveal a tidbit that, he hoped, would be new and helpful information. at a corner table in the clubhouse bar, Bucky Watson waited for De Leon to speak. De Leon expected to be treated with deference, and while Bucky privately resented the attitude, he knew better than to confront it. He took a sip of his drink and remained silent.
Aside from the hostess behind the bar and an older couple about to leave, the room was empty. De Leon watched the man hold the woman's coat as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. When they walked out the door, he glanced over at Bucky.
Bucky looked like an athlete, with wide shoulders, narrow hips, and a trim waist, but his petulant face spoiled the image.
After the hostess left to deliver drinks in the dining room, De Leon finally spoke.
'How much inventory do you have on hand?'
Bucky did a quick calculation in his head.
'A six-week supply of cocaine,' he answered.
'Maybe a little less than that in heroin. Smack has been moving well lately.'
'Send everything to Chicago immediately.'
'That's a lot of product to put on the road at one time.'
De Leon answered with an icy look.
'I'll have it shipped out by morning,' Bucky said, recovering quickly.
It would mean calling in the crew to build special containers at the crating shop, packing the drugs in with some cheap art, forging lading bills, and putting two large trucks on the road. It was an all-night job.
'When will I be resupplied?' Bucky asked.
'You won't be, for a time.'
'I've got people who expect product waiting out there.'
'They can wait,' De Leon said, thinking how tiresome Bucky could be.
'They may start moving to other suppliers.'
'Or they'll cut back on bulk sales and raise their prices. When can more of my funds be moved into Rancho Caballo?'
'We can wash an additional nine million right away,' Bucky answered.
'Do Springer and Cobb continue to believe it is your money they are using?'
Bucky snickered.
'Yeah. They don't seem to care where it comes from, as long as they get their slice.'
'Excellent. There is a shopping mall south of the city that is about to come on the market. When it does, offer the asking price and secure the largest mortgage possible. I'll transfer funds to cover the down payment and closing costs.'
Bucky masked his surprise. If De Leon was right about the mall, no one else in the city knew anything about it.
'I'll take care of it.'
'Have the police returned to question you further about the art theft?'
'No,' Bucky replied.
'Roger Springer will ask the governor to intervene if the cops get too nosey.'
'Since you had nothing to do with the theft, you should have no worries.'
'I'd love to know who pulled it off. It was a slick piece of work.'
'So it seems,' Enrique said.
'What have you learned about it?'
'The police are operating on the assumption that Amanda Talley was somehow involved in the heist. I introduced you to her at the O'Keeffe benefit. The cops think she may have been murdered.'
'How interesting. Is this information reliable?'
'It comes right from the governor's chief of security, a state police captain.'
'Police make such excellent informants. The gentleman you introduced me to in the lobby. Tell me about him.'
'Pletcher? He's local color. He's a very successful artist, collected on a national level.'
'Does he own property in Rancho Caballo?'
'Not as far as I know. He lives near the Roundhouse, in one of the older neighborhoods. He was probably someone's dinner guest.'
'I did not like the degree of interest he showed in me. Who are his friends?'
Bucky chuckled.
'Every queen, queer, transvestite, and transsexual in Santa Pc. The latest Fletcher story I heard is that he has a gay cop living with him.'
'Really?'
'I don't know who it is. But knowing Fletcher, he's probably young and good-looking.'
'He sounds harmless,' De Leon noted, glancing at his wristwatch.
Bucky took the cue, stood up, and smiled at his boss.
'I'll stay in touch,' he said.
'Make sure that you do.'
Bucky left the bar feeling mined. Working for De Leon had made him a rich man, but he didn't have to like the son of a bitch's condescending attitude. aftbr learning a bit more about Amanda Talley, Gilbert Martinez believed his hunch about Roger Springer and his after-hours trysts with women at the governor's office deserved to be tested. Although it was fairly late, lights burned inside Roger Springer's house.
Gilbert was pleased; he had timed the visit to catch Springer away from the office and off guard, if possible.
He stopped his unit next to a BMW in the driveway, and exterior floodlights controlled by motion sensors immediately switched on.
Average in size by neighborhood standards, the house was situated off Gonzales Road in the foothills, with Santa Fe aglow below it, spreading haphazardly across the valley floor.
A round structure low to the ground, the home seemed anchored to the hillside. The curved walls had large windows and doors separated by buttresses, and all the rooms appeared to open onto a semicircular patio. Gilbert found his way to double glass doors that allowed him to see into a sunken living room. A fireplace glowed in the center of the room, and a wine bottle and two glasses were on a coffee table in front of a couch.
No one was in sight, so he knocked and waited, his attention drawn back to the dtyscape below. He could remember a time when except for the highway strip into town, Santa Pc stopped at the private college on St.
Michaels Drive. Now the profusion of city lights ran for miles past the college and washed out the night sky.
He looked through the double glass doors just as Roger Springer yanked one open. Wearing a terry-doth robe and a waspish expression. Springer ran a hand through his rumpled hair and gave Gilbert an irritated look.
'What is it. Sergeant?'
'I have a few questions, Mr. Springer. May I come in?'
'At this hour?'
'Only for a minute.'
Springer nodded brusquely and stood aside. Gilbert stepped into a wide arched foyer that opened onto the living room. Recessed lights along the back wall of the living room accentuated an arrangement of paintings and lithographs above a stereo sound system on a low, built-in bookcase.
'What questions do you have?' Springer asked as he closed the door.
He made no gesture for Gilbert to move into the living room.
'I understand you're a friend of Amanda Talley.'
'I know Amanda.'
'You were with her at the O'Keeffe benefit, I believe.'
'I was hardly with her, Sergeant.'
'But you saw her there,' Gilbert countered.
'We had a drink together with several other people.'
