M. Forsythe - While Rome Was Sleeping

“That was fast! You guys are really on the ball,” Andrew said enthusiastically. “Sure, I’ll come. My day is essentially shot full of holes anyway. Have you called Ben?”

“No, not yet, I thought I’d give you the first opportunity since these might be the same two you helped throw out yesterday,” Jim answered.

“Thanks, I’ll be there shortly.” Hanging up; he laid aside the mostly written column started on Tuesday, grabbed a note book from his desk drawer and headed for the Public Safety Building. Finding Jim Savalza at his desk filling out paperwork, he interrupted the Detective’s concentration with, “Now I know why I didn’t become a cop, I hate filling out forms!”

“You probably don’t have the mental capacity for it,” growled Jim good-naturedly. “Come on; let’s have a look at the family albums.” He led the way to a desk and seated, Andrew began turning pages in the first mug book, then, there they were both on the same page, Leo Tanner and Jake Schultz. Jim stood next to Andrew, “You’re sure?” Andrew nodded. He recognized Leo even with the long stringy hair in the mug shot.

“Absolutely! Neither of them have changed that much. You know beauty is timeless.”

The detective chuckled, “Okay, it’s a match with the prints. These are our guys, at least the ones who trashed the Center. Let’s have a look at the rap sheet. Yeah,” he said mostly to himself, “They’ve both been out of the can for awhile, but…,” Jim seemed puzzled, “Schultz did hard time for assault with a deadly weapon and was paroled last year. Tanner’s record is mostly for petty theft and breaking and entering. This stuff at the Seamen’s Center doesn’t match the usual Method of Operation. He looked at Andrew, but there was no reaction other than a nod of agreement.

“You’re right about the MO, but they are the guys we threw out of the Center and the fingerprints have nailed them down. Right?” he queried.

Jim nodded and then added, “Yeah, but there is a piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit; motive! What was their motive? They had to be looking for something. I don’t suppose you have a theory about that, or do you?” he asked doubtfully peering at Andrew. Not waiting for him to answer, Jim concluded, “Never mind, we’ll find out when we pick them up.”

Andrew gave a sigh of relief, “Then we’re done.”

Friday, September 19, 1980

5:30 AM

Friday dawned clear and balmy; Andrew opened the sliding door to the balcony of his apartment and stepped out into the early morning. Resting his hands on the rail he breathed in the fragrant salty air.

This is one of the things he loved about living in Seattle. One day it could be blowing a gale, raining cats and dogs, and the next, you wake up to a beautiful calm morning like this. Looking west he could see Elliot Bay and the Space Needle. Off to the right he could see some early morning haze on the water in Lake Union that seemed to be drifting after a couple of boats heading out. He stood looking appreciatively, wondering what this day would hold.

Back inside the small kitchenette he brewed himself a pot of strong coffee and thought of Charlene Thayer. He would call her later to set something up; perhaps they could finish their talk over dinner. He chuckled to himself as he thought about his conversation with Jim Savalza regarding Charlene. He wondered what she would think if she knew.

After a short run and quick shower he dressed and decided to drop in at the Seamen’s Center before going to the Times. Driving to the Center he thought about the packet residing in the desk drawer at his office and the possibility of meeting Neil Klein, soon, he anticipated.

Arriving at the Center Sister Ruth captured him with a neck squeezing hug, Saying, “Andrew, I hope and pray they get those hoodlums that broke in here and made such a mess.

Officer Reilly has stopped by the last two days to check on us and make sure everything is okay. I won’t sleep a wink until they’re caught. I know they threatened you! God takes a dim view of people who mess with his work and his people,” Ruth’s rosy countenance was warming to the possibility of a sermon.

“Now, now,” Andrew said holding up his hands, “I’m not getting into that. Let’s just be glad that we found out who did it. Tell Father Ben to call me at the Times when he gets in. By the way where is he?”

Ruth responded, “Oh Andrew, he had to visit one of the ships this morning. He took Byron with him. He is doing a communion service for a crew that wasn’t allowed to come in.”

“Just tell him I stopped and I’ll call him later. Hey, Sister,” Andrew paused and looked toward the pleasant faced, blue and white garbed nun, “You are one swell lady!”

Ruth beamed as she watched him bound out to his car. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she mused.

At the Times Andrew devoted his energy to the stack of mail on his desk that was growing. He was working on his column when the phone rang; he picked it up and casually responded, “Kincaid”

“Good morning, Andrew, this is ‘Evan Scott’. I just arrived at the Washington Athletic Club. The accommodations are very nice; thank you. When can we get together?”

Andrew recognized the deep, pleasant voice of Neil Klein and responded, “Good to hear from you ‘Evan,’ and I’m glad you found your way to the WAC without any trouble. I’m open for the better part of the afternoon. I assume that you want to meet with Father Ben Lee as well; am I right?”

Neil answered affirmatively, “Definitely, the matter with Aunt Martha has some affect on Father Lee as well.”

“Let’s see its 10:25 now,” Andrew responded, “I’ll call Ben and make sure he can join us. We have been expecting you so both of us have tried to keep our times flexible. I’ll get back to you in a couple of minutes to confirm a time.”

A short time later Andrew called back confirming lunchtime meeting at 12:30 in the WAC dining room.

“How will I find you?” Neil asked.

“The reservation is in my name,” Andrew told him. “If you get there first just ask for my table. Everything is set.”

“Good, I’m looking forward to meeting you.” Evan responded, “We have much to discuss.”

Charlene Thayer answered the door at 7:30 AM and was surprised to see Detective Jim Savalza standing on her front porch. “Good morning, Mrs. Thayer,” Jim said cheerfully.

“Good grief! Detective, don’t you have a home? What are you doing here so early and, I might add, without calling?” Charlene chided.

“Sorry Mrs. Thayer, but this is official and we seldom call on official business. Besides, I wanted to get together with you prior to you talking with Kincaid.” Squinting as he looked into the sun, he said, “It is a great morning to be up early… aren’t you going to ask me in?”

Charlene stepped back and held the door as the detective entered. She had risen about 6:00 AM and felt fortunate that she had taken the time to get dressed. She looked at the detective, who was bright eyed and reasonably well groomed and offered “Would you like some coffee?

“I suppose after the events of the past few days I shouldn’t be surprised at anything, but somehow finding you at my door in order to get here before Andrew Kincaid, is probably the most outrageous thing I have ever heard. Why on earth do you think he would be here or even be calling me?” Her annoyance was showing and she decided to back off a bit.

“Yeah, I’d really love some coffee, and well,” Jim still cheerful spoke cautiously, “I just thought that since you and Kincaid were, you know,” he paused again, “an item, it would stand to reason that he might…,” his voice trailed off with an embarrassed shrug.