Fire Trap

21 - Arnie joins the team

Arnie nodded at me as he came out of the security area at San Francisco International Airport, then raised an eyebrow when he saw Jean with me. The eyebrow alone told me the separate-room mystery had been cleared up in his mind. I introduced him to Jean, and we collected his bags and drove back to the Park Plaza.

#

By the time I got Arnie to his room, he was pretty well up to speed with my latest hospitalization. His room was the mirror image of mine, with a bath left of the door as you entered. Jean sat at the little table at the end of the room while I unmade Arnie's extra bed and built a backrest from the pillows for myself. I made myself comfortable, stretching out my left leg and letting the throbbing subside.

"Have you two eaten?" Arnie asked.

We shook our heads and he dialed room service for three ham sandwiches and beers.

Arnie unpacked as if we had left him alone. When he was nearly done, I asked him about the kids.

Nothing new to tell. The night before they were at the Smith's and he'd departed for San Jose before they got out of school, as planned. Of course he'd left them my note, as I'd asked, and had talked to his mother about keeping an eye on them.

When he was finished, Arnie took off his shoes and tried out the other bed, arranging the pillows as I had. "What's the agenda for today?"

"Genetrix board meeting this evening, but for the rest of the afternoon, just an errand or two and showing you around." I looked at Jean for input.

"This afternoon is normally tennis with Janice," she said, "But I'm flexible."

I said Arnie and I could keep ourselves company for the afternoon, but maybe she and Janice would join us for dinner before the board meeting. I liked Jean a lot, but I had fumbled the tightrope walk between business and personal issues pretty badly. I hoped dinner might get the pendulum to swing at least as far back as friendship.

She looked at me trying to decide if my offer was business, covering up a mending of our relationship, or a social thank-you for her support last night. I think she gave up reading my expression and decided to let the evening unfold on its own.

"I'll call Janice," she said.

The sandwiches arrived while she was on the phone, and Arnie tipped the waiter. He slid me my sandwich, opened a beer, and passed it over, treating me like the invalid I was.

I sipped and chewed and thought about the board meeting. I needed to stir things up at Genetrix so word would get back to Lane and cause him to act. Time was against me, but I could speed things up by changing the afternoon agenda with Arnie. Maybe I could speed things up at both ends by visiting Mr. Lane Stevenson at home, in San Francisco.

After sandwiches, Jean left to meet Janice, agreeing to meet at five at La Casa Mendoza, a great Mexican restaurant on Stevens Creek Boulevard. Then Arnie and I settled down to business. He took notes at the table, and I sat propped up on the bed calling from my cell.

First was Linda Westlake, a Western Insurance investigator who had access to reverse phone directories. She extracted Lane Stevenson's address from his unlisted number in five minutes. He lived on Filbert, not five blocks from Chez Charles. For fun, I tried Lane's number. No answer. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't home.

Before Arnie and I tried to surprise him, I decided to introduce Arnie to the local arm of the law. I have found, from practice, that the police are a community within a community and it pays to keep in touch, especially since ex-officers still have some status.

#

At the Santa Clara police station, we went directly to the lunchroom to corner Dale Andrews, but he wasn't in his normal haunt. We discovered him in the evidence room filling out paperwork. He looked pleased to see me and pleased to have an excuse to set down the paperwork. He shot a questioning glance at Arnie and I introduced them, dropping in an aside about his history as a police officer in Portland.