Robert Liston - The Tower of Evil

“The man who shot himself? How awful!”

“Yes.” To both the question and the comment.

“The police were here for the same thing yesterday.”

At least they were still investigating. He studied Gould’s record. Better than average student, pre-law group, international club. Nothing special. Somehow he wasn’t surprised.

“Do you have any record for-” He extracted the photo of Jamie’s mother from his pocket.

“I know her,” Henry Clay said.

“You do?”

“Sure, Mandy Sykes, we called her Cyclone. I had classes with her.”

He studied. “How old are you, Henry?”

Henry blinked and looked away. “I forget.”

“That’s okay, it’s not important.” Henry looked scruffy, but probably not that old. He could have gone to school with Amanda Sykes. “What else can you tell me about her?” Henry had his vacant look. “Was she a good student?”

He shrugged. “Sure, I guess so.”

“Was she pretty?”

“Yeah, sure.”

That qualified as faint praise. Henry was too nice to say she wasn’t. “Did you ever date her?”

“Me? Naw.” Henry blushed. “I never-she was spoken for anyway.”

“She was?”

Henry rubbed the stubble on his chin. His name was…” He stared off into space. “I forget.”

“That’s okay, Henry.” He perused Amanda Sykes’ record. Lots of political science courses and activity in conservative organizations. She left after her junior year.

“His name was Harry, I remember Harry.”

Byerly turned to him. “Harry Gould?”

“That’s it, Harry Gould. Them two was hot and heavy. Everybody figured he was into her pants, but good.”

Back in the van heading downtown, Walter did a quick calculation. If Harry Gould were Jamie’s father, the boy would be five or six, not three-unless he’d seen Amanda after college. No, Amanda wouldn’t be on the run from Harry Gould. Somebody else put the bun in her oven, as the Brits say.

Walter stopped at the clinics. No passengers returning to town. He now headed there himself, driving on city streets, Calle Real, State Street, and the west side along De la Vina Street.

“You were a big help, Henry.”

“I was?” Byerly could see his wide grin in the rear view mirror.

“You knew all about Cyclone and Harry.”

“Sure, I remember them.”

In his outside mirror Walter saw a large black car tailgating him. “The speed limit’s 30, my friend. I’m not about to get a ticket because you’re in a hurry.”

One block below Alamar the street turned one way. He saw the black car pull into the left lane. “Now’s your chance, fellow, go for it.” The black car turned out to be a limousine. “Hey, what’re you doing!” Byerly jerked the wheel to the right to avoid being hit, then braked sharply. He was against the curb, unable to move.

He hollered out the window, “What kind of a driver are you?” A uniformed man got out and walked around the front of the limo toward him.

“Hey, that’s the guy what grabbed the girl.”

“Be still, Henry, I’ll handle this.”

The Ninja’s voice was a gruff as his looks. “Listen, Byerly-”

“You know my name?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from the estate-and from that dame, too.”

“You can’t be serious.” He had to laugh. “And if I don’t I suppose you’ll break both my knees.”

“A good idea, smart ass. I hadn’t thought of that.” A huge hand burst through the window and grabbed his shirtfront, pulling him sideways and forward. “An old guy like you, I could make you into a pancake, and I will, if you don’t watch it.”

“Take your hands off me.”

“Or else what?” He grinned, showing pretty good teeth actually. “What’re you going to do about it, old man?”

He hesitated. “I’m going to blow this horn.” He pushed the button on the steering wheel. “And I’m going to keep blowing till you release me and get the hell out of my way.“

The horn was surprisingly loud. A couple of cars slowed to look.

“Mind what I say, you old fart, stay way.” Ninja gave him a final jerk, then went back to the limo and drove off.

“What was that all about?” Henry asked.

Byerly sucked in air and straightened his shirtfront, trying to control his shakes. He turned the van away from the curb and drove off, finally able to say, “In one-star movies that is what is known as a warning, I believe.”

By the time he parked in front of The Sally and sought out Addie Kinkaid, he felt fairly calm. “You’re not very popular in certain quarters,” he said.

Addie laughed at the threats. “I guess they didn’t believe you were looking for the Munsters’ place.”

“You’re not afraid of them?”

“I figure they can’t ruin my life any more than they already have. I’m sorry you were-”

“It worries me that he knew my name.”

“Probably saw Care Wheels written on the truck and-”

“Of course.” He hesitated. “Why does Kinkaid hate you so much? You can’t be much of a threat to him, no money, no claim to any, living on the street.”

“Maybe Kinkaid’s not the one hating me.”

He looked at her, squinting. “Oh, I get it, Dr. Joy’s image might suffer.”

“She’s all for private charity, do away with welfare.”

“And charity does not begin at home.“

“Her home, anyway.”

He headed for the van, and then stopped. “Have you heard from your friend at the castle?” She shook her head. “What’s her name?”

“Maria Angelo.”

“Maybe there’s some way to contact her, tell her where you are?”

“It’s not worth it. That warning wasn’t for nothing.“

Henry Clay still waited for him in the van. “I’m sorry, Henry, I can’t drive you any more today. Maybe some other time.”

“That’s okay, Doc.” He got out of the van and closed the sliding door. “Hey, Doc, thanks a lot.”

“ De nada.” He wasn’t sure of Henry’s Spanish.

”Hey, Doc. I remember now who that girl was, the one the bad guy took at the library.”

“You do?”

“She looked different, that fooled me, but I’m sure now.”

“Well, who was she?”

“Mandy Cyclone.”

“This is the third time you’ve asked me. No, I don’t mind. No, I don’t feel put out. Yes, I’ll happily pick up the boys at nursery school and babysit for an hour.” She shoved Karen toward the door.

“Thank you, DeeDee, I’ll never-”

“Get your car fixed if you don’t leave.”

A few minutes later DeeDee maneuvered her Z4 over city streets, Coast Village Road, Old Coast Highway, over to Milpas, up to Anapamu. It was an older part of town, not as scenic as the beach area, but lived in. The 101 Freeway would be quicker, but all the high-speed trucks, buses and RVs scared her. She should trade-in this little foolishness on a sensible vehicle, like a Sherman tank.

The nursery school was on East Sola Street, only a couple of blocks from where Karen lived. A nice arrangement for her. She parked in front of a vintage Victorian house and went in. Mothers and toddlers were leaving. Tommy stood near the doorway, looking a little forlorn.

“Hi, Tommy, I’m DeeDee, remember? Your mother asked me to pick you up today.” He recognized her, but did not react, except to take her hand. Did she just walk away with him? Kind of casual wasn’t it. “Where’s Jamie?”

He seemed disconsolate. “Gone.”

“Gone where?”

He shook his head. Oh God! If anything happened to Jamie… She tightened her grip on Tommy’s hand and went inside the building and approached a female adult. She was tweedy, prim, sort of the decline of Miss Jean Brodie. “I’m DeeDee Byerly, here to pick up the boys for Karen.”