“And who might the order-giver be?” Barnes asked.
“The head of the White Tower Radicals is a guy named Marshall Bledsoe who lives in Idaho.”
“I know Bledsoe,” Barnes said. “When I was in Sacramento he was rumored to be the main architect of the synagogue bombings. That’s twenty years ago. He was a madman then, I don’t see him getting sane magically. But from bombs to eggs?”
“Unless that was a ruse,” Newell said.
Barnes ran with the idea. “Davida’s thinking that whoever’s after her is gunning for her in the capital. Then they get her in the safety of her own office.”
“Along those lines, the threatening letter was sent to her in Sacramento.”
“What threatening letter?” Amanda asked and Barnes realized he’d forgotten to tell her.
Newell opened up the envelope and showed them a copy. Magazine letters of all shapes and colors cut and pasted to form an ominous message.
IMMORALITY LEADS TO DEATH!
It seemed like a silly prank, the kind of thing Amanda might have laughed off as some nutcase gone awry with a scissors and stack of People magazines. “Any idea of the authorship?”
“No prints or fibers or saliva. It was dropped off in a taped envelope with no return address. No stamp or cancellation marks, either. Someone dropped it in her mail slot in Sacramento. That narrows it down to about a million people. I wanted to pursue it, but Davida nixed questioning her colleagues. She was trying to woo a couple of detractors, hoping to sway them to see the light and didn’t want the police turning them hostile. So we dropped it.” Newell grimaced. “In light of what happened, big mistake.”
Barnes asked, “Were you thinking the White Tower was behind it?”
“At that point I didn’t because they hadn’t bothered her yet.”
“Bledsoe’s still in Idaho?”
Newell nodded. “It would be nice if he stepped over the border. He’s got some outstanding traffic warrants here in California.”
Something was tickling Barnes’s brain as he watched as Hizzoner and Lucille Grayson emerge from the back of the limo. The old woman remained erect and dry-eyed. Soon the shock would lift and grief would engulf her. He needed to talk to her while she could still talk.
“Where’s Mrs. Grayson going, Donnie?”
“To see her lawyer. Final arrangements.”
Amanda said, “Would you mind introducing her to us…or rather me? You people already know each other.”
“It’s been awhile,” Barnes said. Then he remembered what was nagging at his brain. “Doesn’t Marshall Bledsoe’s mother live in LA?”
Newell shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“I think she does. San Fernando Valley as I recall. Now Thanksgiving is, what…a week away? I wonder if Marshall will be paying Mom a visit.” Barnes smiled. “If he has warrants, we have probable cause.”
“I’ll have to coordinate with LAPD,” Amanda said. “In the meantime, let’s talk to Lucille Grayson, then I want to poke around the capital. I know some politically connected people so maybe I won’t be as threatening as Don.”
“Plus, you’re a lot prettier and tons more charming,” Newell said.
Amanda’s smile started off frosted but thawed in a nanosecond. “People may like me, but no one doesn’t love my husband’s money.”
“Willie Barnes.” Lucille eyed him head to toe. “You grew up and you got old.”
Barnes winked. “That about sums it up, Mrs. Grayson.”
The old woman sighed. “I never did get a chance to tell you how sorry I was about your brother, Jack.”
“You sent me a lovely sympathy card, ma’am.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, you did. I appreciated it and wrote you back.”
“Well, then…now I’m telling you in person how sorry I was.”
“Mrs. Grayson, I am so sorry about Davida. She was a fine woman and a real asset to this community. She was loved, respected and admired. It is a profound loss for everyone, but my heart goes out to you. I’m truly sorry.”
Lucille nodded. “Thank you, Will.”
“This is my partner, Detective Isis, ma’am.” Barnes watched Lucille give Amanda a polite nod.
Amanda said, “Solving this isn’t only our top priority, it’s Berkeley ’s top priority.”
The old woman nodded and turned back to Barnes. “What do you think about the mayor, Willie?”
Thrown by the question, Barnes formulated his answer as quickly as he could. “He’s very concerned, ma’am.”
“Concerned for Davida or concerned for the town’s image?” When Barnes didn’t answer, she said, “I have an appointment with my lawyer in a half hour. If you need to reach me, I’ll be at the club for the next couple of days.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Grayson, I appreciate your cooperation. Could you spare a few minutes for a couple of questions?”
The old woman didn’t agree but she didn’t walk away. Amanda went first. “Did Davida express any concerns for her safety after the recent incident in the capital?”
“I was much more concerned than Davida.” Lucille raked nails down her cheek, creating temporary stigmata. “My daughter was fearless.” She looked at Newell for confirmation. “You remember those Nazis, don’t you, Willie?”
“I don’t know the Nutterly brothers, but I sure as hell remember Marshall Bledsoe. Donnie tells me he moved to Idaho.”
“But he’s still got followers in Sacramento. And I see him around from time to time.”
Newell said, “Do you, ma’am? When was the last time?”
The old woman’s eyes clouded. “I’d say…last year…maybe it was longer, but I’m sure he goes back and forth.”
Amanda said, “Next time you see him, Mrs. Grayson, give us a call right away. He has outstanding traffic warrants in the state of California so we can arrest him.”
“That’s all you’ve got on him?” Lucille said. “Traffic warrants?”
“It’s enough to bring him in. Especially if you think he had something to do with Davida’s death.”
“I’d certainly look at him first. Also that Modell man. He used to send her the nastiest mail.”
“Harry Modell,” Barnes said. Seeing Amanda’s inquisitive look, he added, “Families Under God, I’ll fill you in.”
Newell said, “She never mentioned any hate mail from him.”
“Davida thought he was a crackpot,” Lucille said. “She thought the letters were funny although I failed to see any humor in them.”
“She showed you the letters?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, she did. I kept a few of them. I thought she should send them to the police, but she refused and she forbade me to do it. Said it was a waste of their valuable time.”