"I want to try to talk to James Buchanan again, but I don't know how successful I'll be. It might just be a waste of your time."
"You didn't bother to tell Richard that, did you? I don't think he wants you messing around in company business."
"Only if an employee is getting murdered."
"I'm sorry…that came out wrong. But still, we…you shouldn't be negotiating without his knowledge."
"No negotiating. This is strictly fact-finding."
"My charter from Richard is to be involved with anything you do that affects Dionysus. And if Buchanan is really trying to take over Dionysus, that certainly qualifies."
"Yes," I admitted. I hadn't previously seen a role for Arrow in the Buchanan situation, but there might be one. "But if we do get to see him we can't introduce you as an employee of Dionysus."
"All right, then, I'll just be a girl. Do you think I can pass for a girl?"
"Are you fishing for a compliment?"
"Yes."
"Don't you get enough adoration from John?"
We both laughed, which broke the tension that had been in the air.
Arrow continued, "If I'm going to play the part of a girl, I want to do it right. What do the women wear at Buchanan's?"
"Dresses."
"Party dresses?"
"Yes, I would say so."
"Okay, that's probably all I'm going to get out of you since you're a man. Incidentally, if you were really gay, you would be a lot more descriptive. But I brought a little number with me that might work."
Why was I not surprised? We were on Sepulveda Boulevard, heading into the tunnel that goes under one of the Los Angeles airport runways, so I closed the car windows to keep the noise level down. I had walked through that tunnel several times and had learned two things: the decibel level is extreme and always walk on the side of the tunnel in which traffic is moving in the same direction as you are because the cars generate a strong wind stream that moves with them. However, the tunnel was now closed to pedestrians.
I maneuvered into the airport exit lane and my attention was taken up with getting into the airport and finding a spot in the overnight lot. We took a parking shuttle to the United terminal and after passing through security, checked in at the gate.
Once we were on the plane we were able to resume our conversation. I spent some of the flight telling Arrow what I had learned about James Buchanan. She already knew that Ned had been his partner at one time. Of course my father knew it too, but hadn't bothered to tell me. Arrow and I agreed that Buchanan was a wily and sometimes ruthless businessman, and if he wanted something he usually got it.
"I represent Dionysus Corporation," Arrow told Detective Washington, "and I would like to be present when you question Karl."
"Are you an attorney, Ms…Andrews?" Detective Washington asked, glancing at the business card Arrow had given her.
"No, I am executive assistant to the chief executive officer of Dionysus Corporation."
"Well, that's a mighty high-falutin' title, but it won't buy you anything. And even if you were an attorney, the answer would be no. Mr. Patterson is not a suspect; we are merely asking him some questions. There is no need for him to have anybody else present." Detective Washington wrote in her notebook.
Arrow looked as if she was going to argue, but she changed her mind and said, "I notice that you wrote 'black' beside my name. I am of mixed race."
"Do you have any black blood in you?"
"Yes, but…"
"Then you are black as far as I am concerned, Honey. I am told that I have a white man somewhere in my past, probably a slave owner, but I am black, do you hear me?"
Arrow was smart enough to shut up at that point and Detective Washington escorted me from the waiting room to an interrogation room. I knew from reading books that the mirror in one wall was a window on the other side. She was also openly recording the session, but it was all in vain because I had nothing to add to what I had already told her.
She asked me to go over what I had done from the time I had left the hotel until I had been admitted to the Buchanan house-a period of over an hour. I had no witnesses, of course, but at least I told a consistent story. I figured that if I remained cool she would not try to link me to the drugs in the car.
I also made sure to emphasize that I didn't believe Ned was a drug dealer. When we had arrived at the Hertz office we had placed our bags in the back seat of the car and hadn't opened the trunk, although I had to admit it was unlikely the cocaine was already there. After a half hour of repeating myself, I asked, "Isn't it a little ridiculous to try to foist a drug charge on Mr. Mackay when there was nothing in his house?"
Detective Washington said, emphasizing her words, "The fact remains that there was cocaine in his rental car."
"But that could have been planted by the murderer."
"The car was locked and the keys were in Mr. Mackay's pocket. The trunk of the car had not been forced open."
“If the murder was drug-related, why didn’t the murderers take the cocaine?”
“Any number of reasons.”
Which were? She didn’t elaborate. I tried again. "Do you think he was buying or selling?"
"With the amount he had, he must have been dealing."
"Did he test positive for drugs?"
"No," Detective Washington admitted.
"Aren't most dealers users?"
"There's a definite correlation. But before you turn into the interrogator and me into the interrogatee, I have some more questions for you. Did you know Mr. Mackay was carrying a gun?"
"No! You didn't say anything about that before." It had not been in the news, either.
"After we found the cocaine in the car, we went back and did a thorough search of the area where Mr. Mackay's body was found. The gun was in the dumpster where we found him. A nine-millimeter Beretta. It is registered to Mr. Mackay."
"And it's…it's the murder weapon?"
"No. Mr. Mackay's gun had not been fired."
"But…but how could he have gotten it through airport security?"
"Guns have been known to slip through security," Detective Washington said, dryly. "They disguise themselves as underwear. Did you check any bags before you got on the plane?"
"No, we only had one bag apiece. We carried them on."
Detective Washington tried to jog my memory concerning the gun, but the attempt failed. If her plan was to shake me up it succeeded, but you can't get milk out of a bull. Finally, she gave up and let me go-for the moment.
I guess my face gives away my feelings, for just as Esther could tell when I was upset, Arrow spotted it as soon as I returned to the waiting room. When we went outside she said, “Well, what did that bitch want?”
I filled her in. When we got in the rental car she pulled out her cell phone and said, "I have to keep our attorney informed of everything I find out. He has requested a copy of the autopsy report but he needs to know about the gun."
When she hung up I said, "That pretty much clinches the case against poor Ned. If he wasn't involved in something shady, why would he be carrying a gun? I don't know what an attorney can do to help him now."
"Elma believes Ned is innocent and I believe Elma," Arrow said, defiantly. "And I know Ned. He isn't the type to get mixed up in drugs. But the job of the attorney is to protect the reputation of Dionysus, too."
"It can't get any lower than it is now." Which is why I had bought the company's stock. Buy when blood is running in the streets. And it was-literally.
We drove to the hotel and checked in. It was the same one Ned had stayed at. I was moving up in the world. We ate a light lunch in a cafe down the street and discussed what to do next. We eliminated the possibility of going to Buchanan's office and trying to get in to see him. Not only was that highly unlikely without an appointment, I also didn't want to talk to him in the atmosphere of a business meeting, even though he knew I was Richard's son.