Stalking The Angel

Chapter 11

The next morning Jillian Becker called me at eight-fifteen and asked me if I had yet recovered the Hagakure. I told her no, that in the fourteen hours that had passed since we last spoke, I had not recovered it, but should I stumble upon it as I walked out to retrieve my morning paper, I would call her at once. She then reminded me that today was the Pacific Men's Club Man of the Month banquet. The banquet was to begin at one, we were expected to arrive at the hotel by noon, and would I please dress appropriate to the occasion? I told her that my formal black suede holster was being cleaned, but that I would do the best I could. She asked me why I always had something flip to say. I said that I didn't know, but having been blessed with the gift, I felt obliged to use it.

At ten minutes after ten I pulled into the Warrens' drive and parked behind a dark gray presidential stretch limousine. The driver was sitting across the front seat, head down, reading the Times sports section. There was a chocolate-brown 1988 Rolls-Royce Corniche by the four-car garage with a white BMW 633i beside it. I made the BMW for Jillian Becker. Pike's red Jeep was at the edge of the drive out by the gate. It was as far from the other vehicles as possible. Even Pike's transportation is anti-social.

When I rang the bell, Jillian Becker answered, her face tight. She said, "They've just gotten another call. This time the caller said they'd hurt Mimi."

She led me back along the entry and into the big den. Sheila Warren was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, feet pulled up beneath her, an empty glass on the little table beside the chair. She was wrapped in a white terry bathrobe. Joe Pike was leaning against the far wall, thumbs hooked in his Levi's, and Mimi Warren was on the big couch across from the bar. Her eyes were large and glassy, and she looked excited. Bradley Warren came in from his library at the back of the den, immaculate in a charcoal three-piece suit, and said, "Sheila. You're just sitting there. We don't want to be late."

I looked back at Jillian Becker. "Tell me about the call."

She said, "A half hour after you and I spoke the phone rang. Whoever it was started talking to Mimi, then must've realized she wasn't an adult and asked for her father."

"What'd they say, Bradley?"

Bradley looked annoyed. He adjusted each cuff and examined himself in the mirror behind the bar. Sheila Warren watched him, shook her head, and drained her glass. He said, "They told me that they knew we hadn't stopped searching for the Hagakure and that they were growing angry. They said they would be at the Man of the Month banquet and that if I knew what was good for me and my family, I'd call it off."

Sheila Warren said, "Bastards." Her s's were a little slurred.

Bradley said, "They told me they knew our every move and we were at their mercy and if I didn't do what they said they'd kill Mimi."

I looked at Mimi. She was in a shapeless brown silk dress and flat shoes and her hair was pulled back. There still wasn't any makeup. I said, "Pretty scary."

She nodded.

I looked back at Bradley Warren. He was picking at something on his right lapel. "Is that the way they said it, using those words?"

"As near as I can remember. Why?" Not used to being questioned by an employee.

"Because it is so theatrical. 'If you know what's good for you.' 'Know your every move.' 'At their mercy.' Most of the crooks I know have better imaginations. Also, it's pretty clear now that we aren't just talking about robbery. The calls you're getting seem like harassment calls. Someone wants to hurt your business and embarrass you, and that's probably why the Hagakure was stolen."

I went over to the big couch and sat down next to Mimi. She was watching everything the way a goldfish watches the world from its bowl, all big eyes and vulnerability and with an assumption of invisibility. Maybe that was easy to assume when Bradley and Sheila were your parents. I said, "What'd they say to you, babe?"

Mimi giggled.

Sheila said, "For Christ's sake, Mimi."

Mimi blinked. Serious. "He told me it wasn't ours. He told me it is the last legacy of Japan's lost heart and that it belongs to the spirit of Japan."

Sheila Warren said, "Spirit my ass." She got up from the chair and brought her glass over to the bar. She wasn't wearing anything under the robe. "Well, I guess it's time to get ready for the Man of the Month's divine moment." She said it loudly, then turned away from the bar and leered at Joe Pike. "Want to stand guard while I'm in the bath, tough guy?"

Jillian Becker coughed. Pike stood solemn and catlike, mirrored lenses filled with the empty life of a television after a station sign-off. Bradley Warren found a hair out of place and leaned toward the mirror to adjust it. Mimi's face grew dark and blotched. At the bar, Sheila shook her head at no one in particular, mumbled something about there being no takers, then left.

Bradley Warren stepped away from the mirror, temporarily satisfied with his appearance, and looked at his daughter. "Finish dressing, Mimi. We're going to leave soon."

"I hate to be the wet blanket," I said, "but maybe we should forego the Man of the Month celebration."

Bradley frowned. "I told you before. That's impossible."

I said, "The banquet will be in a large ballroom at the hotel. There will be a couple of hundred people plus the hotel and kitchen employees. People will want to speak with you before the presentation and after, and with your wife, and your family will be spread all to hell and back. If we assume that there is merit to the threats you've received, you'll be vulnerable. So will your wife and daughter."

Mimi's left eye began to twitch in the same way that Bradley's had. What a trait to inherit. Her face was small and pinched and closed, but her eyes were watchful in spite of the tic, and made me think of a small animal hiding at the edge of a forest.

Bradley said, "Nothing's going to happen to my best girl." He went over to her with an Ozzie Nelson smile and put his hands on her shoulders.

Mimi jumped when he touched her as if an electrical current had arced between them. He didn't notice. He said, "My best girl knows I have to attend. She knows that if we're not at the banquet, the Tashiros will see me as weak."

His best girl nodded. Dutifully.

Bradley turned the Ozzie Nelson smile on me. "There. You see?"

"Okay," I said. "Go without your family. Pike will stay with them, here, and I'll go with you."

Ozzie Nelson grew impatient. "You don't seem to understand," he said. "What you're asking would be bad for business."

"Silly me," I said. "Of course."

Jillian Becker stared out the front window toward a grove of bamboo. Joe Pike moved to the bar and crossed his arms the way he does when he's disgusted. I took a deep breath and told myself to pretend Bradley Warren was a four-year-old. I spoke slowly and wished Mimi wasn't with us. I said, "A threat was made to your wife, and now a threat has been made to your daughter. A person who may or may not have been connected with the theft of the Hagakure was murdered. Whether the two are linked or not, I don't know, but the situation is worsening and it would be smart to take these threats seriously."

Jillian Becker turned from the window. "Bradley, maybe we should call the police. They could help with extra security."

Bradley made a face like she'd pissed on his leg. He said, "Absolutely not."

Mimi stood, then, and went over to her father. "I put on this dress especially for the banquet. Isn't it pretty?"

Bradley Warren looked at her and frowned. "Can't you do something about your hair?"

Mimi's left eye fluttered like a moth in a jar. She rubbed at the eye and opened her mouth and closed it, and then she left.

Joe Pike shook his head and he left, too.

Bradley Warren looked at himself in the mirror again. "Maybe I should change shoes," he said. Then he started out, too.

I said, "Bradley."

He stopped in the door.

"Your daughter is terrified."

"Of course she's frightened," he said. "Some maniac said he was going to kill her."

I nodded. Slowly. "The right thing for you to do is to call this off. Stay home. Take care of your family. They're scared now, and possibly in danger, and they need your help."

Bradley Warren gave me the famous Bradley Warren frown, then shook his head. "Don't you see?" he said. "A lot of cops would ruin the banquet."

I nodded. Of course. I looked at Jillian Becker, but she was busy with her briefcase.