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Willoughby
Preston poured himself a glass of bourbon from the stocked liquor cart on the pool patio and sat at one of the tables. He was so mad he wanted to put his fist through a wall. As soon as he got home, he searched the dresser and closet in his bedroom for his paisley neck scarf with his initials, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. There were two possibilities. He’d either taken it off and left it somewhere, or someone stole it from his room, but the latter seemed pretty remote given the amount of security his father had installed at the estate.
He also made a few phone calls to find out who had access to the theater today. Lo-and-behold, a man claiming to be him had called the manager on Monday and offered him a sizeable amount of money to rent the theater for a few hours. The manager readily agreed and received full payment in cash by messenger.
There was no doubt in Preston’s mind that he had a very sophisticated nemesis on his hands. Someone who shouldn’t be taken lightly or underestimated. Normally, he enjoyed sparring with a formidable opponent since he loved a challenge, but he’d never run across someone so deranged that they would go to all the trouble of making a movie to get their point across.
But what was the point? The movie was meant as a threat to both him and Vivian, but did his adversary know for sure that she had the coins in her possession, or was he merely using her as a decoy to throw him off? Judging from Vivian’s reaction at the theater, it could go either way. It was hard to tell whether she was shocked by the contents of the movie or outraged that someone knew she had the coins.
Gunther stepped outside. “Mister Frederick Barcroft is here again, sir.”
“You don’t have to announce him every time he stops by, Gunther. Just send him out here.”
“Yes, sir, but...this time, he has a rather large companion with him named Boris.”
Preston let out a chuckle. “It’s okay. I’ll keep an eye on both of them.”
Not more than a minute later, he heard Freddie making himself a drink at the liquor cart. Then Boris waltzed by him. He headed straight for the pool, climbed down a couple of steps, and sat in the water as though he owned the joint.
“Hey, Preston,” Freddie greeted as he joined him at the table. “What the heck is so urgent? Boris and I didn’t even have a chance to finish our dinner.”
“Someone else found out the coin collection was missing, and they’re trying to get their hands on it before we do.”
Freddie lost his smile. “You’re kidding? We went to a whole lot of trouble to make sure that information didn’t leak out. Willoughby’s attorney is the only other person who knows about it besides us.”
“Not anymore.” Preston took the theater ticket out of his jacket pocket, set it on the table, and slid it over to Freddie. “I received an invitation to a movie premiere the other day. I don’t know who sent it. Out of sheer curiosity, I went to the theater this afternoon.”
Freddie studied it. “And...”
“You can imagine my surprise when I discovered Vivian Steele was the only other person attending the movie.”
“You said she’d be at the public market all day. That’s why I didn’t follow her.”
“I was wrong.” He sipped his brandy. “The movie ended up being a crude yet rather absorbing film with a very graphic warning. In a nutshell, the person behind it knows I’m looking for the coins, and he’s planning on killing me if I don’t give up my efforts. At least that was my take on it.”
“Did Steele set you up?”
“On the contrary, the warning was twofold. The mastermind behind the film was letting her know that he intended to kill her if she didn’t hand the coins over to him.” Preston slid back in his seat and folded his hands in his lap. “Either that, or she doesn’t have the coins, and he’s trying to steer me in the wrong direction.”
“Her husband is one of the six suspects who had access to Willoughby’s safe deposit box. He could have taken the coins before he died last fall and either gave them to his wife, or she found them among his belongings afterward. Maybe she’s trying to throw you off her scent. We don’t know when Willoughby last saw the coins at the bank, do we?”
“No. Nick tried to find out, but we didn’t want to be too obvious. The whole purpose of keeping this quiet was to avoid pushing the thief into cashing out the coins. Nick and I have been looking into all the possible suspects, and the people closest to them, but I assumed the coins were stolen within the past two months when Willoughby’s health took a turn for the worse. That made the most sense until now. George Ramsey just moved up to the top of the...” Preston suddenly gulped the rest of his drink and got up to pour himself another one.
He stared at the bottle of brandy on the liquor cart. It just occurred to him that George had the perfect motive. In his last love letter to Tilly Trimble, he mentioned wanting to run away together. With two million dollars worth of coins in his pocket, the two of them could have disappeared and lived a grand life anywhere in the world.
“What is it, Preston?”
“I was just thinking that according to the bank records in everyone’s files, no one had cashed the coins in.”
Freddie chuckled, and a lock of brown hair spilled to his forehead. “You should know better than anyone that whoever took them could have opened an account overseas without anyone finding out. Where does your father keep all his loot?”
“In a bank in San Francisco, Freddie. That’s a good point, but judging from the contents of the movie today, I’d have to say the coins are still in the area.”
“Getting back to this mastermind of the film, how the hell could he know that you were looking for the coins?” Freddie asked.
Preston hesitated to tell him what he thought. Freddie was new at this, although he’d tell you otherwise. He was inexperienced and overly defensive about it. “I have a few thoughts on that, but it’s water under the bridge. I’m going to keep track of Vivian from now on. We have a bit of history together, anyway.”
“Wait a minute, Preston. You think it’s my fault?”
“Like I said, I have a few ideas about it. He might have spotted you trailing Vivian, and one thing led to another.”
“That’s impossible!” Freddie shouted as he jumped to his feet. “I’ve been extremely careful. You’re always blaming me when things go wrong.”
Preston casually glanced over at Boris, who was lying on the pool steps now, completely submerged in the water except for his giant-size head. “Your companion tends to stick out like a sore thumb, Freddie.”
“What are you talking about? He’s perfect for this line of work! No one would ever suspect what I do for a living when they see him standing next to me. He’s big and burly and cute, and he looks harmless, but he’s stronger than an ox and tough as nails. I pity anyone who gets on his bad side.”
Preston chuckled. “Don’t get your feathers in a bunch, as my mother would say. We’ll work around it. I have something else I need you to do for me.”
Freddie sat down in a huff. “What?”
“Vivian has an assistant at her boutique, a young woman about your age. She’s quite attractive, a little unconventional, maybe, but that’s right up your alley. Her name is Nora Griswald. She takes a bus to and from the boutique every day except Sunday. Here, I wrote the information down for you.”
“You want me to follow her?”
“Feel free to strike up a conversation with her, if you want, but do it discreetly, please. I doubt she knows anything about Vivian’s personal business, but until I find out who we’re dealing with, the young woman’s job at the boutique might put her at risk, too.”
Freddie tucked the paper into his pocket. “What about the mayor? Are we putting him on hold?”
“Nick is splitting his time between both projects, but you and I are going to focus on the coins right now.”
Freddie finished his drink and looked over at Boris. “I need a couple of towels again.”
“There’s some in the bathhouse over there,” Preston told him. “I’ll give you a hand and walk out with you. I have to drop something off to Barney in the city.”
“What is it?”
“I took the reel of film before leaving the theater. I’m hoping Barney can give us some idea about who made the movie, along with identifying the actors who starred in it.”
“I can take it to him on my way back to my motel,” Freddie offered.
“Thanks, but I have a couple of things to discuss with him, anyway.”
After they dragged Boris out of the pool and dried him off the best they could, Preston grabbed the briefcase with the film and walked Freddie to his pickup truck out front. Then he found the keys to his father’s black Cadillac LaSalle coupe hanging on the wall in the carport and drove that car instead of his Jaguar, so he’d blend in better with the city traffic.
Preston took a roundabout route driving to Alameda Street in downtown Los Angeles, just as a precaution. Along the way, he thought about the six files sitting on his desk in the study, one for each of the original suspects. Three employees at Bank of America had access to Chester Willoughby’s safe deposit box: George Ramsey, the previous bank manager; Thomas Goldman, the new manager; and Wanda Schwinn, a senior bank teller.
Chester also had three grown children...heirs to his fortune, two sons and a daughter. All three of them had access to the coins indirectly, and it was possible one of them grew impatient and took the collection before their father’s death. For now, the attorney was going to hold off reading Chester’s will, hoping they could identify the thief and find the coins.
With two million dollars at stake, all six of them had the means, opportunity, and motive. After reading George’s last love letter, he had the greatest financial motive of all, but the crucial question remained...when were the coins stolen, recently or over six months ago? The only way to find out the last time Chester Willoughby had requested access to his safe deposit box and saw the coins for himself was to ask Wanda Schwinn or Thomas Goldman, so he had to figure out a way to do that without alerting them or anyone else.
He thought about Freddie and felt bad assigning the young man the simple task of keeping an eye on Nora Griswald. Preston was sure the two of them would get along, but his sole purpose was to protect both of them. After watching that movie today, things were getting ugly now, and knowing Freddie, he would risk anything, even his life, trying to prove himself. So, it was safer to put a little distance between him and the situation.
Barney was waiting for him on the corner. He and Barney have known each other for several years now, and Preston got a real kick out of him. Barney was a short, stocky fella in his late forties, who complained about everything, had a heart of gold, and his IQ was through the roof, which made him invaluable.
After Preston pulled up to the curb, Barney rested his arms on the open passenger side window. “What have you got for me, Preston?”
He handed Barney the briefcase. “It’s a reel of film, just a short clip. I need you to look it over closely and see if you can find out who filmed it, the people who starred in it, where it took place, anything and everything. You’ll know why when you watch the film.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Did you hear the news? Two of the five felony charges against Captain Kynette were dropped this afternoon, and the prosecutor is up in arms over it. He thinks it’s just one step away from Kynette getting off scot-free.”
“I guess that isn’t surprising, given the mayor’s power and connections. I think his brother was out celebrating their victory last night. Does Nick know about it? He’s handling the mayor’s situation for now.”
“He’s the one who told me.”
“Okay, good. Can you take a look at the film tonight?”
“Sure, why not?” Barney grumbled. “I’ve been working so many hours my wife isn’t speaking to me anymore.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give Louisa a call, and smooth things over with her. The two of you have your twenty-fifth anniversary coming up soon, don’t you? Why don’t I arrange for you to spend a week at my father’s summer house on Catalina Island? That should make up for all your overtime.” Preston thanked him and drove north through the city.
He pulled down Foothill Road and parked near the corner of Third Street, in the shadows of the post office across from Vivian’s boutique. It was after eight-thirty now and getting dark, but he could see her car parked in the alley next to her building, and the light was on upstairs.
He’d called her a few times earlier until she took the telephone receiver off the hook. He wasn’t even sure what he would have said to her had she answered. His actions were more out of the heat of the moment than anything else.
Preston glanced in his rearview mirror and noticed car headlights slowly creeping up the side road behind him. He waited a minute, and when it got closer, he saw the single red beacon light mounted on the roof of the car. Quickly, he ducked down out of sight, which wasn’t easy with his height at six foot two.
After the patrol car crawled by him, he peeked above the dashboard. The car stopped at the corner, then turned left and parked at the curb, directly across from the boutique. Preston scowled as he sat up and stared at the tail end of the car.
He was thinking about last night when Joe Shaw had deliberately cornered Vivian in the hallway at the restaurant. That thought triggered another. He remembered Freddie telling him that Vivian had gone to the courthouse yesterday morning to watch the Kynette trial.
He realized then that there was a hell of a lot more going on in Vivian’s life than just dealing with her husband’s infidelity and possibly harboring a stolen coin collection.
