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to do some boring old police work. As in pinpointing the phone booth andtrying
to pull some prints. As in keep searching for any troves Peaty might vestashed
God knows where. As in& let s not shmooze any more, okay? My head ssplitting
like a luau coconut.
Yanking his tie loose, he hauled himself up, crossed the tiny office, andthrew
back the door. It hit the wall, chunked out a disk of plaster, bounced acouple
of times.
My ears were still ringing when he stuck his head in, seconds later. Wherecan
I find one of those amino-acid concoctions that makes you smarter?
They don t work, I said.
Thanks for your input.
CHAPTER 30
The Brazilian rosewood door of Erica Weiss s law firm should ve been usedfor
guitar backs. Twenty-six partners were listed in efficient pewter. Weiss swas
near the top.
She kept me waiting for twenty minutes but came out to greet me
personally.Late thirties, silver-haired, blue-eyed, statuesque in charcoal
Armani andcoral jewelry.
Sorry for the delay, Doctor. I was willing to come to you.
No problem.
Coffee?
Black would be fine.
Cookies? One of our paras whipped up some chocolate chips this
morning.Cliff s a great baker.
No, thanks.
Coming up with black coffee. She crossed a field of soft, navy carpet toan
entry square of hardwood. Her exit was a castanet solo of stiletto heels.
Her lair was a bright, cool, corner space on the eighth floor of a high-riseon
Wilshire, just east of Rossmore in Hancock Park.Gray felt walls, Macassar
ebony deco revival furniture, chrome and blackleather chair that matched the
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finish of her computer monitor. Stanford law degreetucked in a corner where it
was sure to be noticed.
A coffin-shaped rosewood conference table had been set up with four blackclub
chairs on wheels. I took the head seat. Maybe it was meant for EricaWeiss; she
could always tell me that.
An eastern wall of glass showcased a view of Koreatown and the distant glossof
downtown. To the west, out of sight, was Nora Dowd s house on McCadden.
Weiss returned with a blue mug bearing the law firm s name and logo in
goldleaf. The icon was a helmet over a wreath filled with Latin script.
Somethingto do with honor and loyalty. The coffee was strong and bitter.
She looked at the head chair for a second, settled to my right with nocomment.
A Filipina carrying a court-reporter s stenotype machine entered,followed by a
young spike-haired man in a loose-fitting green suit who Weissintroduced as
Cliff. He ll be witnessing your oath. Ready, Doctor?
Sure.
She put on reading glasses and read a file while I sipped coffee. Then offcame
the specs, her face got tight, and the blue in her eyes turned to steel.
First of all, she said and the change in her voice made me put my cupdown.
She concentrated on the top of my head, as if something odd had sproutedthere.
Pointing a finger, she turned Doctor into something unsavory.
For the next half hour, I fielded questions, all delivered in a stridentrhythm
dripping with insinuation. Scores of questions, many taking PatrickHauser s
point of view. No letup; Erica Weiss seemed to be able to speakwithout
breathing.
Just as suddenly, she said, Finished. Big smile. Sorry if I was a
littlecurt, Doctor, but I consider depositions rehearsals and I like my
witnessesprepared for court.
You think it ll come to that?
I d bet against it, but I don t bet anymore. She peeled back a cuff
andstudied a sapphire-ringed Lady Rolex. In either event, you ll be ready.
Now,if you ll excuse me, I ve got an appointment.
Ten-minute ride to McCadden Place.
Still no Range Rover but the driveway wasn t empty.
A yacht-sized, baby-blue 59 Cadillac convertible hogged the space.
Gleamingwire wheels, white top folded down, tailfins that should ve been
registered aslethal weapons. Old black-and-yellow plates bore a classic car
designation.
Brad and Billy Dowd stood next to the car, their backs to me. Brad wore alight
brown linen suit and gestured with his right hand. His left arm rested
onBilly s shoulder. Billy wore the same blue shirt and baggy Dockers. Half a
footshorter than his brother. But for his gray hair, the two of them
could vepassed for father and son.
Dad talking, son listening.
The sound of my engine cutting made Brad look over his shoulder. A
secondlater, Billy aped him.
By the time I got out, both brothers were facing me. The polo shirt
underBrad s jacket was aquamarine pique. On his feet were
perforated,peanut-butter-colored Italian sandals. Cloudy day but he d dressed
for abeachside power lunch. His white hair was ragged and he looked tense.
Billy sface was blank. A grease stain rorschached the front of his pants.
He greeted me first. Hi, Detective.
How s it going, Billy?
Bad. Nora s nowhere and we re scared.
Brad said, More worried than scared, Bill.
You said
Remember the brochures, Bill? What did I tell you?
Be positive, said Billy.
Exactly.
I said, Brochures?
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Billy pointed at the house. Brad went in there again.
Brad said, First time was superficial. This time I opened some drawers,found
travel brochures in my sister s nightstand. Nothing seems out of placeexcept
maybe some extra space in her clothes closet.
Packed to go, I said.
I hope that s it.
What kind of brochures? I said.
Places in Latin America. Want to seethem?
Please.
He jogged to the Caddy and brought back a stack of glossies.
Pelican s Pouch, Southwater Caye, Belize; Turneffe Island, Belize; Posada
LaMandragora, Buzios, Brazil; Hotel Monasterio, Cusco, Peru; Tapir
Lodge,Ecuador.
Looks like vacation plans, I said.
Still, you d think she d tell us, said Brad. I was going to call you tosee
if you found any flights she took.
Nora s passport hadn t been used.
I said, Nothing so far but still checking. Does Nora ever fly privately?
No. Why?
Covering all bases.
We ve talked about doing that, said Brad. Mostly, I ve talked about
it.Being so close to Santa Monica Airport, you see thosebeauties take off and
it looks real inviting.
Same thing Milo had said. For the Dowds itcould be more than fantasy.
I said, What did Nora think?
She was ready to do a time share. But once I found out the cost, I saidforget
it. The cool thing would be owning my own plane but that was never anoption.
How come?
We re not close to that financial league, Detective.
Did Nora agree with that assessment?
Brad smiled. Nora isn t much for budgeting. Would she charter something onher
own? I suppose it s possible. But she d have to get the money from me.
She doesn t have her own funds?
She has a checking account for day to day, but for serious money she comesto
me. It works out better for all of us.
Billy s eyes rose to the sky. I never get to go anywhere.
Come on, Bill, said Brad. We flew to San Francisco.
That was a long time ago.
It was two years ago.
That s a long time. Billy s eyes got dreamy. One hand dropped toward
hiscrotch. Brad cleared his throat and Billy jammed the hand in his pocket.
I turned back to Brad. It s not in character for Nora to take off
withouttelling you?
Nora does her own thing on a limited level, but she s never traveled forany
length of time without letting me know.
Those trips to Paris.
Exactly. Brad glanced at the brochures. I was going to contact
thoseresorts, but if you want to do it, you can keep the information.
Will do.
He rubbed the corner of one eye. Maybe Nora will waltz in tomorrow with
a Iwas going to say with a terrific tan, but Nora doesn t like the sun.
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