'Just remember. I'm a crazy bitch. Don't let your ego get in the way or you may go off to prison with burned feet and no balls. Lot of ramifications there, Jack. Lot of ramifications. And, Jack?'
'Yes?'
'You know absolutely that I would do it. You know I'm like that, don't you?'
'Not a doubt in my mind.'
'Good then. We've made progress. Tomorrow you'll meet the German. I know you'll love him. We're going to build an interrogation room right here in your barn. We'll dismantle it when we're through with it. And I need you to take the van and have a few specialty items installed.'
Groiter had a feeling and he couldn't shake it. Satoru was always pressing, always wanting to know. It felt like the walls of his world were moving ever closer and that each wall had its own set of prying eyes.
Groiter bought an airline ticket for the east coast under his own name. Took aside his most trusted guy, Barnes, and had him fake an ID. It was a California driver's license with Hans Groiter's license number and address but Barnes's face. It took some work but the man actually looked a lot like Groiter. Groiter boarded the airline while Barnes boarded the Amada corporate jet and was quite illegally not listed on the jet's log. When Groiter arrived in New York he immediately returned on the private jet. Barnes remained in New York regularly using the Groiter ID. Upon his return to San Francisco, Groiter immediately went to a small rural airport just outside of Santa Rosa. There he entered Mama's Cafe, a bustling little place where people waited in line to eat. It was a nondescript concrete-block building painted yellow and brown. It had a bad case of the uglies. Inside was better, with green plants everywhere, even in the rafters.
Something about walking through all the plants felt good. He liked his plan.
He entered the men's room in the very back of the place and opened the window. There was no screen. Not a hundred feet away, parked on the grass, was the helicopter he had ordered. Quickly, hoping he wouldn't be seen, he crawled out the window and jumped down in a small enclosure that stored the garbage cans and housed the air conditioner. It was an easy vault over the low wall and a quick walk to the helicopter. Hans could fly passably, and it was a sunny calm day.
Without filing a flight plan and with the transponder off, he flew below 1,000 feet for 200 miles to a strip in Fortuna, California, where he picked up the Spaniard, pulled fuel in cans from a hangar, and then flew to Jack Morgan's. Nobody but the Spaniard could put him anywhere near Palmer. Legitimate receipts would show that he checked into the Waldorf-Astoria in New York.
25
Maria and Dan were in the public library reviewing a Sunday-magazine newspaper insert article about the death of Catherine Swanson.
'I'm sure the body in the mine was the photographer, so we know he didn't kill her.'
'It was a body without a head,' Maria said.
'Clothing matches. He was skinny like the photographer.'
'OK, I'll concede that. I think you should leave town for a while.'
'No way.'
After a short argument and a longer discussion, Dan changed the subject, explaining that he had to meet some clients the next day even though it was a Saturday.
'It's a bit of a problem,' Dan said.
'Why's that?'
'Pepacita's going to visit her family. And worse yet, Nate was supposed to stay with his friend John Barge. Debbie Barge is great, but I'm reluctantly coming to the conclusion that her live-in boyfriend is into drugs. Now that Lynette's gone…'
'Are you working up to something?'
'Well, I'm in a bind.'
'You know I'll do it,' Maria said between bites of her tuna sandwich. 'I just want you to ask, instead of sliding all around it.'
''He's liable to have an attitude. The boyfriend was taking them for a ride in his drag boat.'
'I can deal with it.'
On the first floor of the castle, there was a large ceremonial room. History was prominently featured with swords and body armor from various eras, even equestrian armor, and all manner of ancient fighting implements. The floor of the long rectangular room was gleaming mahogany from a nearly extinct species. The walls were redwood and the ceiling Japanese white cedar. Functions for up to 200 could be held in this room.
Off of the ceremonial room lay a relatively small study. This room looked much more Western and prominently featured several large computer screens. Yoshinari sat in front of one such screen that displayed a detailed map of northern California. Shohei had just called by satellite phone. Groiter had disappeared at a Santa Rosa airport. Shortly after he entered a public eating establishment, a helicopter took off and Groiter could not thereafter be found.
Shohei could wait in San Francisco and collaborate with Satoru, or he could go to Palmer and wait. Yoshinari studied the map. There was nothing of great interest in San Francisco. Maria Fischer was from Sacramento. Dan Young was from Palmer. Kenji's laboratory was near Palmer and Corey Schneider was there as well.
'Go to Palmer. You have a radio that will monitor the police?'
'Yes.'
'Use it. The pressure on Kenji is great. Groiter may do whatever he's working so hard to conceal at any moment. Let me know the minute you hear anything out of the ordinary.'
'Ossu.'
Yoshinari flirted with the idea of sending more men but thought better of it. More men meant greater risk of exposure. And Shohei was incredibly talented.
He dialed his daughter.
'Micha.'
'Father,' she said softly. 'How wonderful to hear your voice.'
'How are you, my daughter? Beautiful flower in my garden.'
'I would love to see you and Mother.'
'Maybe we will take that shiny plastic bubble of a thing and aim it at America.'
'Father, it's a Gulfstream GV. Kenji envies you.'
'Nothing but wires and metal. No beauty. But if it will take us to you, maybe there is something to be said for it.'
'Something is on your mind.'
'How did you know?'
'Mother comes on the line first when you are not worried.'
Yoshinari smiled. His daughter was indeed observant. 'How is Kenji?'
'He paces in the night. His teeth grind in his sleep.'
'So what do you think is worrying him?'
'He keeps me far from his worries.'
'Yes.'
'And if I ask, he gets angry. So I don't ask.'
'I see.'
'How is my granddaughter?'
'She is well. You should come and see her. Already she paints like Mother. She has your love of the garden.'
'I will come soon.'
'Rest easily, Father. You will figure it out. You always do.'
