Hotline to Murder

CHAPTER 35

Tony had Shahla wait in the fenced-in patio behind his townhouse while he went through the wooden gate to the carport and carefully scanned it for anybody who shouldn’t be there. In fact, he saw nobody at all, although it was possible that someone might be hiding behind one of the other cars.

He quickly opened the passenger-side door of the Boxter and signaled Shahla to come out. She came, somewhat apprehensively, and once she had done her own look around, she scooted to the car, climbed in, and slammed the door.

Tony got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He was thankful for the purr that promised power, waiting to be called upon, that hopefully would keep them out of trouble today.

He compulsively checked out the other cars through his windows and mirrors during the short trip to the Hotline. He noticed that Shahla also kept swiveling her head. The usual mix of large and small vehicles filled Pacific Coast Highway, which was a grand name for a street like any other street, with traffic lights and congestion. Nobody looked suspicious, however; nobody seemed to have any particular interest in them.

Tony pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center where the Hotline building was located. He drove around to the back of the line of shops. The overflow parking spaces were located here. Here was where Joy had been snatched, and the park just behind the lot was where she had been murdered. Few cars were parked here at this time of the morning. Most were parked in front.

“We can keep an eye on the car from the window of the Hotline office,” Tony said. The window in the listening room overlooked the back parking area. Since Nathan had worked night shifts with Tony, he knew what kind of car Tony drove.

It would be easy to spot somebody loitering, since there were few cars and fewer people in sight. They went through the back door of the Hotline building. Shahla went toward the elevator, but Tony started up the stairs.

“If you’re a cross-country runner, you should be able to handle a couple of flights of stairs,” he said.

He started taking them two at a time. A shot of pain through his knee reminded him that he shouldn’t be doing anything this strenuous. Shahla flashed past him before he came to the first landing, and by the time he reached the third floor, she was standing there with her hands on her hips, not even breathing hard.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

At least she didn’t say it derisively. And because Tony had been forced to slow down to one step at a time, he wasn’t panting as they walked to the Hotline office. The door was unlocked. As they passed through the doorway into the first room, Tony could see Patty, the administrative assistant, working at a computer in the administration area. He rarely saw her since he worked on the phones at night, when she was going to school.

There was a girl in the listening room on the phone. Tony looked a question at Shahla.

“That’s Tina Rodriguez,” Shahla said. “She was in my training class. She’s in college.”

Shahla found a copy of the roster of listeners. Tony copied down Nathan’s address, his home telephone number, and his cell phone number. He had a Los Angeles address, which could be just about anywhere, but from the zip code, Tony figured that it wasn’t too far from the Church of the Risen Lord. His years of driving in Southern California on business had given him a good feel for the area.

Tony and Shahla walked into the office where Patty was working. She looked up and did a double take. “Shahla,” she exclaimed. “Are you all right? Detective Croyden called me at home yesterday and said that you were missing and did I know where you were. I was worried sick about you. Then this morning I read in the paper that you had escaped from a kidnapper.” She got up and gave Shahla a big hug.

“I’m fine,” Shahla said. “And Tony’s my bodyguard.”

In her relief, Patty gave Tony a hug, too. He had no objection.

“We have reason to believe that Nathan may be mixed up in this,” Tony said. “I’m going to call Detective Croyden.”

“Nathan?” Patty looked surprised. “I don’t know him very well because he usually works nights. But he always seemed kind of quiet and shy. I guess you never know about people.”

Tony knew the number at the Bonita Beach Police Station by heart. When he was connected to the desk officer, he asked for Detective Croyden. The officer informed him that Detective Croyden would not be in today.

“All day?” Tony asked in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine Croyden not working.

“He will be back tomorrow. Can anybody else help you?”

“How about Lieutenant Stone?”

“She will be in at three.”

“I’ll call back.” He hung up. “Damn. There’s no point in trying to tell the story to somebody who doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“There may be another person working on the case,” Shahla pointed out.

“Yeah, but I don’t know that person, and they don’t know me. Why should they believe anything I have to say?”

Tony stomped out of that room and into the listening room where Tina was writing a call report. When she saw Shahla, who had followed him in, she reacted much the same way that Patty had.

“Shahla.” Tina stood up and gave Shahla a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Don’t I get one too?” Tony asked.

Tina gave him a who-is-this-guy look.

Shahla laughed. “Tina, this is Tony. Tony, this is Tina.”

Tina was a cute brunette, dressed in jeans and a Stanford sweatshirt with red lettering on a white background. At first glance she looked something like Shahla.

Tina offered her hand saying, “I’ve heard about you.”

Tony took it and said, “Nothing good, I hope.”

Tina shook her head. “Nothing.” She turned to Shahla. “Look at all the hang ups I’ve gotten this morning.” She pointed to the board where hang ups were recorded. “I can understand the masturbators hanging up on guys, but why are they hanging up on me? I’ve got a sexy, feminine voice.”

The girls weren’t supposed to like getting those calls. Tony asked, “Did you hear anything in the background before the hang ups?”

Tina shook her head. “Maybe a little breathing. Then a click.” She looked at her watch. “Ten o’clock. I’ve got to get to class.” She picked up a book she had been reading, said goodbye to them, and walked out the door.

But, presumably, her class wasn’t at Stanford University, almost 400 miles away. She probably attended a local community college and hoped to transfer to Stanford.

Tony went over to the desk by the window and looked out at the parking lot. He saw his car sitting undisturbed. He loved that car. He could stand and gaze at it for hours. Shahla joined him at the window.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Maybe I should go pay Nathan a call.”

“We. Whither thou goest I will go. You’re my bodyguard, remember?”

Tina had just come out of the back door of the building and was headed toward her car, which was parked not too far from Tony’s. Another car came cruising down one of the aisles toward her.

Shahla caught her breath and said, “That looks like the kidnapper’s car.”

It was a silver compact. A Chevy, Tony could see from the logo-the bloated parallelogram of Chevrolet. Probably a Cavalier. The door opened when it came alongside Tina and a man jumped out and grabbed her. Exactly how Shahla had described her ordeal.

Tony didn’t wait to see any more. He ran out of the listening room. He paused at the door to the administrative office and yelled at Patty, “Call 911. A man is trying to kidnap Tina. Silver Chevy Cavalier.”

Before she could say anything, he ran past the closing outer door into the hall. Shahla had preceded him and was already at the top of the stairs.

“Wait for me,” he yelled. But she didn’t wait. By the time he had reached the top of the stairs, she was already out of sight, going down the second level between the floors. Tony couldn’t go as fast as Shahla-that had already been proven-and he had to be careful of his knee. He prayed she wouldn’t get herself into trouble. But he also prayed that Tina could fight off the attacker.

He finally reached the first floor after a one-step-at-a-time descent that felt like a slow-motion football replay. He ran to the back door of the building, still favoring his knee. He hoped it would hold up. When he burst through the doorway to the outside world, a quick scan revealed Shahla with her hands to her face, and the silver car disappearing around the end of the last shop in the center. He didn’t see Tina.

Tony trotted toward his car while trying to pull the key out of his pocket. When he had it in his hand he clicked the remote, unlocking his door. He opened it and tumbled into the driver’s seat, not very gracefully. His motions became more fluid as he started the engine and rammed it into first gear. He roared forward and made a quick ninety-degree right turn toward the end of the building.

Shahla ran in front of the car, waving her arms. Her face looked strange. He jammed on the brakes and stopped. Damn it, she was holding him up. She came forward and felt her way around the car, almost like a blind person. She couldn’t seem to open the passenger-side door. Tony was tempted to drive off without her, but she would never forgive him for leaving her behind. And there wasn’t time to argue. He reached over and opened the door for her. She stumbled into the car. He started fast and the acceleration slammed the door shut.

As he swerved around the corner of the building, he saw people in front of him, walking to their cars. Double damn. He slowed down-he didn’t want to kill anybody-and weaved his way among them, fast enough to draw stares.

He drove clear of the pedestrians and saw the silver car make a right turn onto the public street and accelerate rapidly. A few seconds later, he made the turn with the Porsche in second gear and roared after the other car without shifting, as the tachometer needle climbed toward the red line.

The traffic light at an intersection ahead turned yellow. Tony backed off on the gas pedal and said, “He’s got to stop.”

The silver car slowed slightly and swerved into the left-turn lane, but instead of stopping, it entered the intersection well after the light had become red. A car starting up from the left barely braked in time as the Chevy fishtailed through the turn and disappeared in the direction of Pacific Coast Highway.

Tony was first in line at the light, but that was small consolation for losing the kidnapper’s car. He swore silently, thinking that if Shahla hadn’t held him up, he would have caught the other car and at least been able to get the license plate number.

“Seat belts,” he commanded.

Shahla fumbled a few seconds before she got hers fastened. She was coughing for some reason. And sneezing.

Tony concentrated on the light. “He’ll turn north on PCH.” He handed his cell phone to Shahla, saying, “Call the police station and tell the desk officer that. You can use redial.”

“I can’t see.”

Tony looked at her. Her eyes were full of tears. Was this a reaction to Tina’s kidnapping? He hoped she would hold up. He took the phone back and placed the call. Then he handed it back to her.

She was still sneezing. She was barely able to talk on the phone for a few seconds. Then her sneezing stopped and her voice became clearer.

While she talked, Tony turned on his emergency flashers, edged forward, and revved the engine. He also hand-signaled the cars coming the other way. There was no left-turn arrow at this intersection, and he hoped that if he showed enough urgency, the oncoming cars would let him make the turn in front of them.

When the light turned green, he started forward, ready to stop fast if it didn’t work. However, the cars at the front of the two lanes of traffic heading in his direction hesitated just long enough for him to complete the turn

He upshifted and headed toward PCH as Shahla spoke excitedly into the phone. “We’re trying to follow the kidnapper’s car. We think he’s going to turn north on Pacific Coast Highway…It’s a silver compact. A…” She hesitated.

“Chevy Cavalier,” Tony said, crossing to the wrong side of the street to pass the car ahead of him that was slowing to pull into a parking space.

“Chevy Cavalier.” She said to Tony, “He’s going to keep us on the line, in case we spot the car again.”

When Tony arrived at PCH, the light was red against him, and he had to wait ten seconds before it was safe to make a right turn. More time lost. He despaired of ever seeing the silver car again. He headed north, changing lanes to pass cars, trying to make up time, and wondering whether Nathan-he pictured the kidnapper as being Nathan-would stay on this main street, where it might be easier for the police to spot him, or transfer to a side street.

Actually, his most likely route involved getting on the 405 freeway at some point, perhaps at the Artesia or Rosecrans entrance. If he did that, it would be practically impossible to find him. He might get away with this. Tony’s heart sank.

“Did you see how he got Tina into the car?” he asked Shahla as he accelerated past an eighteen-wheeler.

“She was already in the backseat by the time I got outside. He was getting in the front. I ran to the car and tried to open the back door. He squirted something out the window at me and took off.”

“It must have been mace or pepper spray. You took an awful chance. He might have tried to put you in the car too.”

“I figured if he did you would be there in time to save me.”

Would he? “Don’t rub your eyes. It’ll make it worse. It’s a good thing he didn’t do that to you yesterday.”

“He’s getting desperate. Oh, Tony, this is my fault. He took Tina because he couldn’t get me.”

Her fault? Now wasn’t the time for her to feel guilty. And now wasn’t the time for him to use listening techniques on her, such as, “Why do you think it’s your fault?” He said, roughly, “This is not your fault. And if we’re going to help Tina, we’ve got to stay focused.”

Shahla remained quiet until she received a query over the phone. She gave their position and said they hadn’t spotted the kidnapper. As Tony approached Artesia Boulevard, he wondered whether he should turn right toward the 405. If he were the kidnapper and he wanted to get to a place north of the airport, that’s what he would do.

A police car came racing up behind him with its red lights blinking but no siren. Tony pulled into the right lane to let it pass. The black and white crossed Artesia Boulevard and stayed on PCH, which mysteriously changes its name to Sepulveda Boulevard at that point. Tony turned right on Artesia and headed toward the freeway. Let the cop take Sepulveda.

“What are you doing?” Shahla asked.

“Getting on the freeway.” But just then he crossed Aviation Boulevard and realized that if Nathan had been planning all along to take the freeway, he would have probably turned right on Aviation a few blocks back, where it started at PCH, which would have been like taking the hypotenuse of a right triangle. Tony had taken the sides of the triangle. More time lost.

Not only that, he had to wait a significant amount of time for a red light at Hawthorne Boulevard. He felt that the chase was hopeless when he finally accelerated up the onramp onto the 405 and merged with the traffic. The continuous, heavy traffic, which made spotting a single silver car as difficult as spotting a specific silver fish among the thousands in the schools he had seen on his last snorkeling trip.

“We’re never going to find the car here,” Shahla said, echoing Tony’s feelings. She made one more report to the police and then disconnected, promising to call back if they spotted the car.

“We’ve lost it. I’m going to get off.” Tony exited at La Cienega Boulevard, which continued straight north while the 405 headed in a more westerly direction. He drove on that street until curbside parking was available and then pulled into an open space.

“What are we going to do now?” Shahla asked. She looked despondent.

Tony opened the glove compartment and pulled out the Thomas Guide he kept there, a book with detailed maps of the Los Angeles area. It was invaluable to him when he made his marketing calls. Then he stuck his hand into his front pants pocket and pulled out the sheet of paper on which he had written Nathan’s address and phone numbers. Fortunately, he had done that before they had gone into panic mode.

“We aren’t far from where Nathan lives,” Tony said. “Let’s go to his place.”

“Do you think that he might take Tina there? That is, if he’s the kidnapper?”

“No more ifs. As far as we’re concerned, Nathan is the kidnapper. If we think any other way, we lose all hope. And hope is the only thing we’ve got right now.”