Rick Mofina - If Angels Fall

Urlich’s office was a cracked rolltop desk buriedunder mounds of auto magazines, newspapers, brochures, junk mail, notes, andphone books. Amazingly he reached into the heap and pulled out a slip of paper,smudged with engine grease. The pickup’s bill of sale.

Rust looked at it, cursed, and gave it to Sydowski.

John Smith had bought the truck.

“Says here he also bought a boat and trailer fromyou.”

“Yes. Northcraft with twin Mercs. Paid nine thousandfor the whole shooting match.”

“He said he was from San Francisco?” Sydowski wastaking notes.

“Yes.”

“Why come out here to buy a truck and boat?”

Urlich shrugged. “I only advertised the truck.”

“You advertised? In what?”

Urlich reached into the pile again, retrieving anautomotive buy-and-sell magazine. “I put all my stock in here.” He licked afinger, casually browsing through the pictures of cars and trucks, each bearingan information caption. “Goes all over Northern California. Here it is.” Hetapped the picture.

Rust and Sydowski stared at a profile photo of theFord pickup truck used in the abduction of Gabrielle Nunn from the Children’sPlayground of Golden Gate Park.

“You got a picture of the boat and trailer?” Sydowskisaid.

Urlich indicated his paper pile. “In theresomewheres.”

“You got any of the nine thousand he gave you left?”Rust said.

“Yup, why?”

“Can we see it?”

Urlich fished a jingling key chain from his coverallsand unlocked a drawer, then a metal strong box containing several envelopesfilled with cash. “Some is deposits on my stock.” He handed Rust an envelopecontaining several fifty-and hundred-dollar notes. They werefresh-from-the-mint bills with sequential serial numbers. They could yield thesuspect’s prints. And the Secret Service and Treasury people might be able togive the task for a point-of-circulation bank.

“Can you remember what this man looked like?” Sydowskisaid.

Urlich scratched his chin.

“Any distinguishing scars, tattoos, any memorablespeech patterns?”

“No,” Urlich said, before giving a vague, uselessdescription.

“He come with anybody?”

Urlich shook his head. “Said he hitchhiked.”

“Hitchhiked?” Sydowski took a note. “Any idea at allwhere he lived? Worked? His phone number?”

Urlich shook his head. “Nope. I see quite a few peopleand it was a long time ago.”

“Anything about him that sticks in your mind?” Turgeonsaid.

Urlich couldn’t recall anything.

“He say what he needed the truck for?” Ditmire said.

“Nope.”

“What about the boat?” Sydowski wondered. “He sayanything about it? He came for a truck and leaves with a truck and boat.”

“Now that you mention it, he was something of a holyman about the boat.”

“A holy man?” Ditmire said.

“Yes, he came for the truck and fell in love with theboat. He said it was destiny that he should find such a boat.”

“Destiny?”

“Destiny or fate, as I recall.”

“In what way?” Sydowski said.

“Well, I never advertised the boat. It was justsitting here, not really for sale and he spots it and starts on some Biblemumbo jumbo.”

“You remember any of it?”

“Just that it was about life and death, resurrection.”

“Resurrection?” Sydowski said. “He sees this boat andtalks about resurrection?”

“Guess it had something to do with why he needed theboat.”

“He say why he needed that boat?” Rust asked.

“Well … after that he sort of clammed up, it waslike he was talking to himself and suddenly remembered I was there.”

“Did he say why he needed the boat?” Sydowski pushed.

Urlich appraised Sydowski, Rust, and the others,chuckling at his memory before sharing it. “Said he needed it to find hischildren.”

To find his children?

The law men stared at each other, bewildered.

During the return flight to San Francisco, severalintense calls were made to the Hall of Justice and Golden Gate Avenue. Theentire task force was to meet within ninety minutes.

Zach forced himself to quit bawling like some sort of candy-ass wuss. Jeff and Gordie wouldlaugh at him, but it hurt. Everything was coming apart. His folks were reallysplitting. The kids at school were right. When your folks split and move out,they never get back together, no matter what they tell you.

Right after the big blowup with Dad, Mom went to herroom, and slammed the door. He heard her crying, wailing like he had neverheard before. It scared him. Her sobbing tore at his heart.

He didn’t know what to do. But he had to do something,had to grow up and do something.

He opened his school backpack and was shoving stuff init. He had made a decision. He was going to Gordie’s. He’d stay with his pal.He’d get away.

He stuffed his CD player, Batman comics, Swiss armyknife, penlight, Walkman, some underwear, and balled up some pants, socks,shirts, and a jacket into his pack. He dropped to his knees and carefully slidout the envelop he kept hidden under the big drawer in his room. It containedhis life savings: $117.14.

Zach hoisted the bag on his back, slipped out of thehouse, and trotted off, growing angrier and more determined with each step hetook along Fulton.

Mom and Dad were breaking a promise.

This is how you measured a person’s worth, by thenumber of promises they broke.

It just wasn’t fair.

He headed toward Center. He knew the way to BART. He’dtake it to San Francisco and then take a cab to Gordie’s house. They could callJeff and catch up on stuff, talk about old times. Maybe he could move in withGordie. Maybe there was some way he and Gordie could become brothers. Maybesign some court papers or something. Gordie’s mother and father never fought.Gordie’s dad was an accountant and was always home.

It was kind of nice being on his own. Before he got onBART, he’d stop at that hobby store along the way and buy that monster-sizedmodel of the U.S.S. Kitty Hawk . He could take it with him to Gordie’sand he could help him put it together. That would be cool!

He was on his own now. They didn’t need him around inBerkeley anymore. Zach sniffed as he waited for the light to change at anintersection. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed a white van a few carlengths away. Funny.

Looks like the same doof that was hangin’ out near hisgrandma’s place earlier. So what? Zach shrugged off his curiosity.

One cherry had tumbled into place.

Two more and they had a jackpot.

Sydowski loosened his tie as everyone settled aroundthe conference table in Room 400 at the hall. Most had to stand. Gonzaleswheeled a new chalkboard into place, in front of its predecessor bearing theblown-up faces of Tanita Marie Donner, Danny Becker and Gabrielle Nunn, and themap with its color locator pins. The new board had enlarged color photos of theFord pickup, the boat, and trailer.

They were on the bad guy’s trail.

The next cherry would be his identity.

And the next would be finding him with the kids.Sydowski sipped his coffee, bit into his chicken sandwich. He and the othershad returned from Calaveras in time to grab stale food from the cafeteriabefore the meeting. The pickup truck lead kicked it all into overdrive. Morepeople had been brought in.

“We’ve got new information, so listen up, we’ll behanding out assignments.” Gonzales stood at the new board, examining the newmaterial in his file folder. “The IDENT team left behind in Calaveras justlifted two latents from the new bills left over in the buy of the suspectpickup. They match the single latent we found on the wrapping of the hamburgerused to lure Gabrielle Nunn’s dog. We pumped them through the system. Zilch.”