Chapter 40
Lyle tried to sort things out. He’d been trying since he woke up. He remembered the cemetery, the funeral, saying goodbye to his brother, an argument with Kate. He knew he and Nostalgia City were targets, but that’s where his logic ended. His thoughts were as piercing and jumbled as the lyrics to a rock song sung too loud in a club too small. At least one thing was clear: keeping busy was his best ally. Endlessly speculating and analyzing the situation was crazy. He knew that.
Thankfully, his taxi shift had started early that morning. He reported for duty at the transportation center before 8 a.m. His venerable Dodge was waiting for him outside the car-washing station.
Before he hit the streets, he called Maxwell’s office for an appointment. Max had already left five increasingly virulent messages for him over the previous few days. The president wanted to know what Lyle knew about FedPat, or anything else.
Next, as he gulped a cup of coffee, Lyle called the Phoenix police. Marko wasn’t in yet, so he left a message. The person who took the message apparently didn’t recognize Lyle’s name, so he escaped without needless small talk. He made a mental note to see Kate and apologize--and thank her for helping him.
Sitting in his cab was calming. He headed down the main drag in Centerville and noticed the new features at the cinema: Dirty Harry and In Cold Blood. Couldn’t someone have picked a comedy?
After a couple of hours of ferrying guests around, Lyle’s cab was idling at a taxi stand when he heard his cell phone buzz. It made him think of his father. Luckily, Lyle was alone in his cab. He really had no excuse now for carrying around a twenty-first-century phone, except it let him stay in closer touch with Samantha.
“Lyle, I got the information for you on Jones,” Marko said. “His name is Art Jones, but he has a couple of aliases. One is Kingman. That’s his prison name.”
“Prison?”
“Yeah. Just as you thought, he did time. A couple of years for robbery. He was paroled, but that’s over.”
“Other arrests?”
“Oh yeah. He was in the Army. Had Special Forces training. When he got out he thought he could beat up people for a living. He was arrested a couple of times in connection with shakedowns. For the past several years he’s been clean, far as we know.”
“What about his PO?”
“Knew you’d ask. His parole officer was Stan Dickman. I talked to him yesterday. He said Jones fancies himself as a soldier of fortune. Last job was working security for a trucking company.”
“Thanks. Appreciate the help.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m in my cab.”
“What are you planning to do?
“I dunno.”
As he hung up, he glanced at his outside mirror and watched a cab pull up a few car lengths behind him. A woman got out and walked toward him in the street. When she got closer, Lyle realized it was Kate.
“Kate, last night, I--”
“You don’t need to say anything.” She placed a hand on the sill of his cab’s window. “Just listen.”
***
Lyle called his dispatcher, told her he was taking lunch, drove to the Security Department building, and found his way to Clyde Bates’s office. All in just eight minutes.
Bates wasn’t surprised to see him. He tossed the bug on his desk as Lyle walked in. “Here it is. Who told you, Max or Ms. Sorensen?”
Lyle’s hand shook as he picked up the tiny electronic ear. His voice was flat. “One of your men found this on the floor?”
“I was going to tell you about this.”
“When, next year?”
“The decision was made to retain this, for now. I was going to tell you about it today. There was a chance that it either belonged to you or that the break-in was connected to an unrelated perp with a grudge against you.”
“Sure.”
“Okay. What do you want?”
Lyle wanted to punch him in the mouth. “Tell me about this.”
“It’s the only thing we found that didn’t belong at your place. It’s a good one. Good range. Expensive. Most casual users would buy something cheaper.”
“Was it working?”
“Uh huh. It had a battery.”
Lyle realized it was a stupid question. “Prints?”
“Not even a partial.”
Lyle threw the little black box onto Bates’s desk. It bounced and landed on the floor. He turned and walked toward the open door.
Bates hurried from around his desk, walked up behind Lyle, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Deming, if you know anything about this, you have to tell me.”
That was it. Bates withheld the truth about his father and now he was telling him what to do? In a flash, Lyle turned on Bates and cocked his right fist, ready to swing. The former FBI agent still had good reactions. He saw Lyle’s move and jerked his head back.
Lyle held his clenched fist chest high. “Don’t touch me again.” He let his arm drop.
In the outer office, a security officer looked up and started to get out of his chair.
“We’re supposed to be working for the park, Clyyde--” Lyle dragged out Bates’s first name and made it an obscenity. “--but you’re just working for yourself.” He brushed past the security guard and left.
Maybe he shouldn’t have started to swing at Bates, Lyle told himself as he sat in the Maxwell Building executive reception area. Didn’t matter. Now he had other plans.
The moment he walked into Max’s office Lyle could see the boss’s eyes on him. Although Max offered his condolences before he had taken a seat, Lyle noticed an expectant look on the president’s face. Lyle could see he wanted to start firing questions at him but was working to keep his usual obtrusive nature under control.
Lyle glanced at the Spam painting on the wall then acknowledged Max’s expressions of sympathy. “Let’s get to it, all right? I’ll tell you what I know about the attacks on the park. My dad’s death was part of it, but you know that by now. Bates showed you the bug.”
“We know someone tried to bug your home. Just assumption beyond that, isn’t it?”
“Maybe. But why else would someone want to bug my condo? My life’s not that exciting. My guess is they were afraid to bug the offices here for fear the bugs would be found.”
Max remained silent.
“So they decided to bug my place instead, since I’d been checking out FedPat.”
“Can you prove FedPat’s involved in the sabotage?”
“Not yet. I need to go back to Boston and--”
“What did you find out the last time you were there?”
“I mostly hung around the offices. They have an operations center in Peabody and executive offices downtown.”
Max nodded. “Been there, downtown.”
“I saw a guy at FedPat I remembered from Phoenix, a hired thug.” Lyle explained Art Jones’s criminal record and his possible connection to Topaz Investigations.
“So what do you want to do now?”
“Go back to Boston and get evidence to connect FedPat Corporation with Topaz and whoever else has been sabotaging the park.”
Max shook his head. “This is delicate. FedPat is our friend.” He lapsed into silence for a few moments then said, “Clyde Bates tells me you had a disagreement with the Phoenix police.”
“Did he tell you they said I was crazy?”
“Not in those words.”
“I had a disagreement with them, yes. More accurately with a couple of other officers. In the end, I left because I didn’t want to be a cop any more. I told you as much when you asked me to investigate for you.”
“Are you crazy?”
“What do you think?”
“You really think FedPat is behind this?”
“Absolutely. Tell me, who negotiated the loan for FedPat?”
Max frowned. “Several people were involved.”
“Was Jason Bedrosian one of them?”
“Jason? Yup. He’s the COO now. He pushed the loan through. You suspect him?”
“He’s one of the people in line to take over FedPat when the CEO retires next year.”
“Could be a real fight for that position, from what I’ve heard.” Max paused, toying with a fountain pen. “We’d have to be very careful. We couldn’t accuse them of anything--”
“Without proof.”
“Right. Bates is trying to check out FedPat and their executives with his FBI contacts in Washington.”
“He can talk on the phone all he wants. I want to go to Boston and find out for myself. I’ll be careful, but we’ve got to move fast. I’d like to leave tomorrow.”
Max said nothing.
“You could always call the sheriff,” Lyle said.
“Okay. But stay in touch. I want to know everything you find out. Call me every day.”
***
Lyle’s plans for Boston filled his head as he left Maxwell’s office. When he stepped from the elevator on the ground floor, he caught a flash of someone going up in another elevator. Clyde Bates may have been able to see a punch coming, but he couldn’t keep from whining to the boss. Bastard.
A few minutes after Lyle got home, his phone rang. Max told him to postpone the trip.