We just sat, looking at each other. After a few moments, Mrs. Wilson started to fidget. She reached over to the end table and picked up a framed photograph, an older guy.
“My late husband, Raul would get calls from his boss here at home once in a while. He’d get upset.” She smiled at the picture and put it back.
“Perhaps rant and rave a little, after the call?”
“Oh yes.” She had a tender look in her eyes.
“But not really directed at you, of course,” I said.
“No. Raul was just blowing off steam.”
“Maybe that’s what happened with Gloria. What do you think?”
“Yes. Maybe that’s what happened,” she said.
“So, perhaps Rodriguez and Gloria hadn’t been arguing at all. Gloria could have been just blowing off steam,” I said.
“Well, the police said they were arguing.”
I almost jumped out of my skin. “The police? They weren’t there at that time. Didn’t you tell the cops that they were arguing?”
Her eyes opened wide and she said in a startled voice, “No, I just told them what I saw. They said it sounded like an argument.”
I sat down. “Mrs. Wilson-I mean Vera?”
“Yes.”
“There was no argument, was there?”
“Gloria was just blowing off steam.” Mrs. Wilson sat there with a blank look on her face, sipping her red drink, and rocking back and forth ever so slightly.
After leaving Vera Wilson’s, I drove around for a while. I was tired of the police and their hard-nose tactics. Tired of lying cellmates. Tired of guys like Fred Vogel selling me out. Tired of getting nowhere. And I was tired of being tired.
Without thinking, I found myself going south on the Long Beach Freeway. I instinctively exited at the Willow off-ramp and headed for the airport. Vogel had lied to the police. I knew for a fact the plane had been flown those extra two hours. Karadimos and his gang of Elvis impersonators had gotten to him, I was sure of it. But how did Karadimos find out so fast that I had talked to Vogel?
I wondered if he’d see me. Probably not. I wanted to knock him on his ass. Maybe he’d knock me on my ass, but I still wanted to confront him face to face. I wanted him to tell me about Karadimos.
I pulled into the Executive Aviation parking lot, sat in my car, and thought. Would it do any good to challenge him? If I got tough with him, would I be accused of trying to intimidate the witness again, making the situation worse? The cops might even start investigating the bribery charge all over again. The way the circumstances stood now, I couldn’t call him as a witness for the defense. He’d obviously lie on the stand. I’d look like an idiot and lose the case.
I went into the building. “Vogel here?” I asked the clerk working the reception counter.
“Ain’t here,” the scrawny kid said. “He’s on vacation.”
“Don’t give me that crap, he was here yesterday. No one starts their vacation on Thursday.”
He ignored my statement for a moment. Then without looking up at me he said, “Called in this morning, said he’s taking a few weeks off.”
I felt my temperature rising, the pressure building. I needed a release. Suddenly, I lost it. I reached over the counter and grabbed the guy by his shirtfront. I pulled him across the ledge. His head snapped back and his eyes opened wide in surprise.
“I want to see Vogel. Now, Goddammit! Get his ass out here,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Hey, lemme go!” he shouted. “I’m not kidding, mister. He’s not here. Go and see for yourself.”
What in the hell was the matter with me? I looked around the lobby; people stared at me. I felt foolish. I was acting like an out-of-control juvenile. I let go of the kid.
“Nah, I believe you. If he calls in tell him to get in touch with me.” I tossed my card on the counter.
The clerk tried to straighten his uniform shirt while backing away. “Don’t bet on it, asshole,” he said.
C H A P T E R 35
I arrived at the office early Friday morning. Rita wasn’t in and I needed a cup of coffee. I saw the new coffee pot sitting there, gleaming with its buttons and lights and all its automatic doohickeys. You’d have to be a mechanical engineer to fire the thing up. I didn’t even know where you were supposed to load the coffee. Or even if I knew, how much would I have to put in the thing? Great, I thought, I don’t even know how to make a cup of coffee anymore. If I touch the pot, it’d probably blow up in my face like everything else. The hell with it; I decided to head over to Dolan’s Donuts. I ordered two glazed and a large coffee to go.
I put the bag in my car and shot back to the office.
I was starting on my second donut when Rita came through the door. She had on tight jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of Mickey Mouse, one arm around Minnie. Mickey had his other arm raised, and two of his fingers formed a V. The caption under the cartoon said, Make love not war.
I glanced up at Rita’s angelic face. She had the type of complexion that didn’t require make-up, and she wore very little. It gave me a boost to see her cheery smile.
“Hey, Boss. Want some coffee?”
“I have some, but thanks anyway.”
She saw the printing on the cup and arched an eyebrow. “When we have time, I’ll show you how to work the coffee pot.”
“Thanks, but first we have to prepare a discovery request. We have to find out about Rodriguez’s cellmate. I’ll need to break him down on cross. Prove he’s lying.”
“We’re out of discovery forms. In fact, we’ve never had any.”
“Yeah, I know, never needed them. You can pick up a few at the legal stationery store on Firestone. Ask Mike the owner for some carbon paper, too.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out my bankroll. I gave half to her. “Here’s a few bucks, should be enough.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Rita said. “I’ll fill out the discovery forms, but you tell me what you want to say, what to ask for. Then later, I’ll show you how to work the coffee pot.” She smiled. “Who knows, maybe you’ll want to make the coffee now and then.”
“You went to law school. Use your own words on the request.”
“What about the coffee pot?”
“Forget about it,” I said. “Oh, after you’ve filled out the forms, don’t forget to serve them on the D.A.’s office. Then file the papers with the clerk at the court.”
She turned to leave. “See you in a bit.”
“Wait,” I said. “I’ll need some cash.” I’d need money for the fundraiser at Chasen’s. Although the dinner was paid for, I’d still need a few bucks for parking and maybe a tip or two. “Bring me the checkbook. You can stop at the bank on your way back. I’ll sign your paycheck now, too.”
“I used the balance of the money you gave me from the racetrack winnings, to catch up on the back rent and telephone. And now, after my pay, we’ll have less than two hundred in the bank,” she said as she laid the book on my desk. “And your car insurance bill is in the drawer.”
“The insurance company can wait; somehow they’ll make it without my check. Might have to hold off on building a new skyscraper this week, though.”
“Boss, you’re crazy, but nice.” She flashed me one of her world-class smiles.
“Rita, I just thought of something. When I was in the Sav-On the other day, I saw a Phillips mini-tape recorder on sale. It’ll fit in my briefcase, and it comes with those new cassettes.” She gave me a bewildered look. “Pick one up on your way back from the bank. Okay?”
“How much?”
“Sixty bucks.”
“Jimmy-”
“I know, but I’m meeting Welch tonight. It cost Sol a lot of money to set it up and I want to record the interview.”
“Do you think the senator will let you tape him?”
“We’ll see,” I said.
“Are you going to tell him he’s being recorded?”
“We’ll see.”
“You’re the boss.” She sighed.
I signed the checks. Rita left just as the phone rang. I answered it. “Law office. O’Brien speaking.”