Chapter 41

I pulled into the shopping center on the north side of Montgomery and watched as Charnock made a call. I wouldn't have dared get close enough to hear what he said even if I'd been brave enough to follow him across three lanes of traffic, and I'd have had to be standing right behind him to see what numbers he dialed. It was a short call, and when he walked back toward his truck he was grinning. Whatever he'd heard, it had pleased him.

While he was on his way bay to the truck I took advantage of a red light at San Mateo to dart across Montgomery. Charnock pulled out of the parking lot going south on San Mateo, but he didn't go far. He pulled into the Erna Fergusson library, making me laugh. That had been "my" library for three years before I met Cecelia, and she'd proposed to me in the park behind the building – the building that had been there then, for this one was new. He parked, and I parked. He went in, and I sat in the Blazer. After five minutes or so I got out, went to the back end, and dug into the ice chest, for by now I was starving.

Cecelia had put a length of summer sausage in there; half a dozen of her heavy rolls; two bottles of Coke – classic, not vanilla; and a plastic container of her fruit salad. There was a knife and spoon bound in a rubber band and wrapped in plastic taped to the top of the salad container. I grabbed a bottle of Coke and carried it and the rest of the provisions back to the front. I cut open a roll with the knife, cut four slices of sausage, peeled the skin off, and put the slices between the halves of the roll. I took a bite, and while I chewed I unscrewed the top of the Coke.

I ate there, enjoying the food – somehow it always seems to me that the simplest meals taste the best. And Cecelia seems to agree, for while she does on occasion do fancy stuff, most of what she makes is simple. It's not necessarily steak and potatoes – in fact, none of us really loves steak that much – but it's not pheasant under glass either. Of course I've never tasted pheasant, under glass or otherwise, and that's just fine with me. It may be that pheasant tastes better than anything else, but I'm not in a hurry to find out.

I was halfway through my second sandwich when my cell phone rang. I pulled it out, saw that it was my office number, and answered. "Yeah, Marla?"

"Darv, I just got a call from a Davey McCullough. She wasn't hysterical, but she was very upset. She wants you to call her back immediately – and she emphasized immediately."

"I guess I ought to have given her my cell phone number," I said, but I give it out so seldom that I couldn't muster any real enthusiasm for upbraiding myself. "I'll call her right away. Thanks, Marla."

I cut that connection, and then realized I didn't know the abortion mill's phone number. I called Information, got the number, and dialed it.

"Planned Pregnancy Center," said a voice that sounded scared of what the owner might hear.

"Is that you, Davey?"

"Oh, Darvin, thank you for calling! We just got a new threat call and I wanted you to know about it. Darvin, it's horrible, it's..." She broke down into what sounded like weeping. Marla had said she wasn't hysterical, but I wasn't so sure.

"Davey!" I shouted into the phone.

"Yes?" came her voice, still weeping, but now meek and under control.

"Sorry to holler, but I can't help you if you go bonzo on me. Do you have the tape there?"

"Yes."

"Can you take it to a private place and play it for me?"

"There's no one in the waiting room right now. Hold on..." It didn't take very long before I heard the voice. It was the worst I'd heard. No wonder Davey was scared – this threat promised horrible tortures, and said that they would occur within the week. What really scared me was the voice speaking Davey's name and giving an address it said was hers.

When the tape ended I asked, "Is that really your address?"

"Yes."

"Okay, he probably got it out of the book, unless you're unlisted..."

"No, we're in the phone book."

"Okay..." I thought for a second. "How long ago did this call come in?"

"About 15 minutes ago, maybe 20."

I sat up in my seat. That was when Charnock was making his call, the one that had thrilled him so much. Of course there were probably pay phones all over town in use just then, but if I ascribed this to coincidence I'd be a bigger fool than the guy who bought the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Okay, Davey, I know you're scared to death, but we've got him."

"We do?"

"We do – you an' me. I'm tailing a suspect, and he made a call from a pay phone just when your call came in."

"Oh, Darvin, that's such good news!"

"Yeah, it is." I smoothed my mustache as I thought. "Okay, I got a plan. Since this creep threatened you personally this time, we gotta take steps to keep you safe. You ever wanna stay in a Marriott hotel?"

"A hotel?"

"Yeah – you an' your family are gonna stay there till I can nail this guy. I gotta put some things together, and that might take a day or two. I am not gonna risk him getting to you before I'm ready. I want you to pack, you and your family, go to the Marriott on I-40, and tell 'em you need a suite for a week. Tell 'em to bill me, and if there's any trouble ask to speak with the head housekeeper. She knows me, even if management doesn't, and they won't take her lightly. I want you in that hotel by sundown. Can you do that, Davey?"