Джо Горес - Gone, No Forwarding

“Just two more questions, Mr. Pivarski,” said Delaney. “First, what time did you arrive at the Kearny offices?”

“Maybe five-thirty, around there.”

“Leave?”

“Like quarter to six, ten to six, like that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pivarski.” He turned to Tranquillini. “Your witness, counsel.”

And thought, let’s see you discredit this baby, Hector, as Tranquillini bounced to his feet and strode to the bench.

“Your Honor, there is a point or two in this witness’s testimony upon which I would like to confer with my client. If we might have a brief recess...”

The Hearing Officer looked at his watch. “I hope we can conclude these proceedings before the noon recess, Mr. Tranquillini. So I can give you no more than ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes is fine, Your Honor.” Tranquillini beamed.

And almost took Dan Kearny’s head off in the hall, which is where they had to confer since there was no time to go elsewhere.

“Dan, what the hell am I supposed to use to open this guy up? He’s lying, he’s got to be, unless Kathy Onoda just pulled a monumental goof, in which case we’re dead. Get me some goddam ammunition!”

“For Chrissake, Hec, don’t you think we’re trying?” snapped Kearny. “You can’t get information where there isn’t any. You can’t find people when there isn’t any trail to follow.”

“What the hell about Ballard up in Sacramento? It can’t be too tough to find out where some chick is working, for Chrissake.”

Kearny looked uncomfortable. “Larry was supposed to be back down here forty-five minutes ago. Something must have—”

“What about Heslip and this file clerk? Unless we get something , you can kiss your ass goodbye as far as operating an investigation agency in this state is concerned. We can appeal, and keep appealing, but do you have any idea what that’s going to cost you?”

“The last time we heard from Heslip was—”

“Who dat takin’ my name in vain?”

And there was a fatigued, travel-worn Bart Heslip beside them, his clothes wrinkled and his face unshaven, but Bart Heslip all the same. And he was not alone.

“Bart!” exclaimed Kearny. “How in the hell—”

“Red-eye special into San Jose. Didn’t want any welcoming committees, the way these boys have been playing. May I present—”

“Verna Rounds!” cried Giselle, coming from the ladies’ room just in time to embrace the black girl she had hired as file clerk over a year before.

“Miss G’selle,” mumbled Verna at the floor. “Sure mighty good to see you.”

Tranquillini was moving in on her like a mother hen getting a wing over a frightened chick. “Oh, little lady, are you beautiful!”

“What she’s got to say oughtta save the DKA license,” said Heslip. “Pivarski got a receipt, he didn’t have any letter, the money was applied to the account in his presence, and Kathy even worked out a payment schedule for the rest of his delinquency.”

Tranquillini was already moving her toward the hearing room. “That’s all I have to know,” he chortled. The rest, except for Heslip, followed. He held back.

“I’ve gotta call my Corinne and let her know I’m home and that I’m okay. I’ll be in after a couple of minutes. That poor lady hasn’t heard from me since...”

But the pay phone at the end of the hall was busy, so he went down to the McAllister Street entrance where he knew there was a bank of pay phones which couldn’t all be busy.

Tranquillini rose as the Hearing Officer returned to the bench.

“Your Honor, I have no questions of Mr. Pivarski at this time, although I would like the right to recall him at a future time if it seems necessary. Instead, we have a—”

“I believe I stated I would like to conclude this hearing by the noon recess, counselor,” said the Hearing Officer a little testily.

“Your Honor, we finally have located the other witness who was present in the Daniel Kearny Oakland office on the day and time in question. Miss Verna Rounds has just arrived from the East Coast to testify. Since it will be familiar ground, I do not believe her testimony will be extensive.”

“Very well. Miss Verna Rounds, please take the stand to be sworn. Mr. Kasimir Pivarski is directed to remain.”

For the first time, tall, courtly Wayne Hawkley was getting to his feet. But it was not to object to his client being told to remain. He merely bent and squeezed the arm of his nephew, Norbert Franks, and then spoke softly in the younger attorney’s ear.

“Norb, danged if I didn’t forget a phone call I promised to make before noon. You can hold the fort here for a minute?”

“Sure, Unc.” Franks grinned and gave him the thumb-and-forefinger O.K. circle.

Hawkley walked with stately stride from the room. Sure, Unc. That simpering, stupid fool! He didn’t even comprehend what the appearance of Verna Rounds on that stand would lead to. Well, the old fox Wayne Hawkley knew. And was getting out while he could. The one good feature of this whole sorry spectacle would be not having to listen to idiot Norbert any more.

Get the car out of the lot with the spare set of keys he always carried. A quick trip to the Oakland safe deposit box for his traveling money, the first flight from the Oakland airport to New York, thence to Montreal and from there to Switzerland. He could decide which of the three passports with the traveling money he would use first once he was airborne. His wife would keep the house, live on the joint bank accounts, and not even miss one of her weekly bridge parties. His daughter Maddy, she would take over the law offices and get rid of that idiot Norbert...

So concerned was he with his plans that as he entered the elevator he did not even notice the slouching, bulky man who began to get off and then stepped quickly back in so as to be riding the cage with him down to the McAllister Street exit.

In the hearing room Verna Rounds had been sworn and Tranquillini had started her through her testimony. “I understand that you were operating the switchboard at the Kearny offices in Oakland on the afternoon of Friday, November fifth of last year. Is that correct, Miss Rounds?”

“Yessir, you’re right.”

“Was a Mr. Pivarski discussed?”

“Oh, yessir! Miss Kathy, she tole me—”

“That is Kathy Onoda, the DKA Office Manager?”

“Yessir. Miss Kathy, she tole me ’bout four o’clock that he was due between five an’ to make a payment of two hundred dollars, an’ that I was to bring him right in.”

“What time did he actually arrive?”

“Mr. Pee-somethin’ he come in just ’bout five-thirty.” The Hearing Officer leaned forward to interrupt. “I didn’t catch the name you spoke, Miss Rounds.”

Verna looked at her hands and then at the floor, embarrassed for the first time during her testimony. Finally she looked over at him. “I’m sorry, sir... uh... Your Honor. I caint pronounce that man’s name nohow.”

“You mean Mr. Pivarski?”

“Yessir. I always jus’ called him Mr. Pee-somethin’.”

The Hearing Officer masked a smile. “I see. Please proceed, Mr. Tranquillini.”

Tranquillini waved a hand at the opposing counsel table.

“When this gentleman came into the office, what happened?”

Verna shook her head, a stubborn light coming into her eyes. “Was Mr. Pee-somethin’ come in, like I tole you. He said he—”

“Mr. Pivarski,” agreed Tranquillini. “The gentleman seated at the table over there.”

Verna looked at the man calling himself Pivarski. She shook her head. “That ain’t him,” she said. “Ain’t ever laid eyes on that dude in my life before.”

For the first time in his life Hector Tranquillini was stopped dead. His mouth dropped open and he gaped. He turned to gape at the man known as Pivarski. The man known as Pivarski was on his feet and taking a snub-nosed Python .38 revolver adroitly from his left armpit with his right hand.