The Bricklayer, стр. 51

“Is that going to hurt you at work?” Vail asked.

“That’s your only concern?”

“In a couple of days I’ll just be one of the great unwashed in a place where they don’t read Los Angeles newspapers.”

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“For being concerned about me—I think so.”

“With a little bit of luck I’ll never have to face Kate again. She must legitimately hate me. I hope I didn’t cause any problems last night.”

“Kate’s a good person. And she also will be leaving L.A. soon.”

“I’m getting out of here too,” Tye said. “Do you think there’s any chance I’d like Chicago, Steve?”

He hesitated so she would understand what he was about to say had two meanings. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t find it much different from Los Angeles.”

She gave the kind of disheartened chuckle that came involuntarily after a failed long shot. “Sorry, Steve, I had to give it one last try.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

THE CLERK AT THE AQUA DULCE POST OFFICE HAD GIVEN VAIL DIRECTIONS to the old Franklin Movie Ranch. “It’s on Stanfield Road off Hope Creek Road.” The name on the box rental was the same as on the credit card receipt, Andrew Parker, with an address of simply Franklin Movie Ranch, Stanfield Road. The property had been used as a movie set back in the for-r ties when the studios were turning out westerns every couple of weeks. As far as the clerk knew it hadn’t been used in more than half a century.

As Vail drove along Hope Creek Road, he wondered if he was wasting his time looking for anyone else who could be involved. And more important, if he was, why? Wasting time was something he hated. Somebody else could have been involved in the murders, but that didn’t seem likely. Radek needed the power that came with being in charge. It was a big part of why he was a criminal. If there was someone else, it had to be an underling who had gone unnoticed. But there was also a practical reason for his pursuing Radek’s last clue. If a booby trap had been set, it should be located and neutralized.

Vail turned onto Stanfield Road, which then climbed along the barren foothills, through large boulder-sized outcroppings that he recalled were ever present in the old cowboy movies. Finally at the peak of one of the hills, he saw a rutted dirt road off to the right that wound down around some large rock formations. A simple nailed cross of wood crudely lettered said, “Franklin Ranch.” He turned in and drove slowly, trying to keep the car from bottoming out in the ruts. Once he circled below the boulders, he could see three dilapidated buildings in the flats below. He stopped and got out into the scorching sun. Using the monocular, he scanned the area, looking for any indication of recent use. The single-story structures were less than two hundred yards away. He decided to go the rest of the way on foot.

He opened the trunk and slipped off his suit jacket, tie, and shirt, leaving him in his T-shirt. The shotgun case contained a canvas bandolier of shells with a Velcro closure, which he wrapped around his waist and secured. There were scattered shells in the case, and he loaded five of them, alternating the double-aught buck and deer slug. He racked the first one into the chamber and clicked the safety on. His cell phone rang. The caller’s ID was blocked. “Hello.”

“Hi.” It was Kate. She waited for his response.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“I guess that’s what I’m calling to find out.”

“Other than a long, icy shower I had to take last night, we’re fine.”

“I didn’t sleep much.”

“Only someone who didn’t care would.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Where are you?”

“Sightseeing.”

“That sounds evasive.”

“Apparently not evasive enough. I’m in Aqua Dulce. It’s an hour north of L.A.”

“This is the part where I try to pin you down with a series of escape-proof questions.”

“Fair enough. The credit card used at Sargasso’s came back to an Andrew Parker at the Franklin Ranch in Aqua Dulce. I just got here.”

“Does that mean you think there’s someone else involved?” Her tone had that impatient “here we go again” charge to it.

“It is a very small loose end, and you know how they drive me crazy.”

“Should you be out there alone?”

“All the black hats are gone, remember? I just want to see if there’s something out here Radek might have rigged that’ll hurt someone if they stumble across it.”

“Were you going to tell anybody about it? What happens if you get hurt?”

“There’s no urgency here. Anything suspicious, I’ll call in the locals.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“I’d come out there myself, but I’m buried in paperwork. I’ve been making a list and so far I’m up to almost thirty 302s to dictate. And that isn’t counting the evidence and lab transmittal letters. Let me send somebody out?”

“I’m standing here looking at the place. This is just a walk in the park. By the time they get here I’ll be headed back.”

There was a hesitation and then Kate said, “Have you seen the morning paper?”

“No.”

“Tye’s kind of doing an exit interview in it. You might want to get a copy.”

“I hope that’s not you being mean.”

“So you have seen it.”

“I talked to Tye first thing this morning. She wanted to apologize. She wanted me to pass it on to you because she figures she could never face you again.”

“Interesting. I would never have guessed that a man who could so casually throw bank robbers through windows would be so protective of someone who had embarrassed him.”

“What makes you think I’m embarrassed?”

“I guess that was me being mean. I’m sorry. How about I buy you dinner tonight?”

“Do you know who Sisyphus was, from Greek mythology?”

“With great apprehension I’ll have to say no.”

“For offending the gods, Sisyphus, a man of many indulgences, was sentenced to Hades, where he was to roll a boulder up a steep mountain, with one small catch. Just as he was about to reach the top, it would always roll back down, forcing him to start over. He was to do this throughout eternity.”

“And you think that’s us.”

“It did seem like the gods were conspiring against us last night.”

“I say we try shoving it up the mountain one more time to make sure we are actually in hell,” she said.

“Sometimes understanding the futility of our fate is the only form of happiness we’re allowed.”

“Funny, I’ve always found the struggle to be the real reward.”

“That confirms something I’ve long suspected—you’re a better person than I am. If you want to again risk the wrath of the gods, I’ll be back this afternoon.”

He hung up and let his eyes trace the twisting road leading down to the ranch. There was little shade; in fact, there were only a few scrawny trees scattered across the property. Vail glanced at the sun for position, its unrelenting glare warning that it was going to be another hot day.

Vail took his time getting down to the three ancient, colorless structures. They were nothing more than shades of gray, as if permanently in an old black-and-white movie. They had been built side by side without any space between them, and the way the outside walls leaned made them appear to be holding one another up. There was a wooden walkway in front of all of them, with a corrugated metal sheet overhead. The outer ones were smaller and had flat roofs, but the middle structure had a peaked roof and looked like it was the only one used in the last fifty years. A hand-painted wooden sign over the door said “Last Chance Saloon.” Whether it was a movie set or someone had tried to make a business of it after the western movie business dried up, he couldn’t tell.

Kicking up dust as he walked down the road, he cautiously approached the first structure. The door was half open, and he could tell by the debris on the floor that no one had been in there in years. Instead of going in the middle building next, he went to the third one and found it in a similar condition.