"Christine?"
"Yes, Christine. It's important to your mother, and that makes it important to me."
"I thought you were going to solve the whole thing for me. Didn't you say that? I'm not sensitive enough to handle it, so you were going to."
"Not sensible enough is more to the point. It's a situation that calls for some understanding of women. If a girl will move in with you and let you get her pregnant, then you were the one she wanted. They all walk around looking at each man they meet and asking themselves, 'Could this be the one?' and she decided you probably were. Whatever else happened afterward that made her leave can be gotten over. Women have an infinite capacity for fooling themselves about men."
"Apparently."
Andy kept himself from blustering, "What the hell does that mean?" and said, "Speaking of women, I just heard that the woman who helped Christine leave you has been to visit Christine's father in Lompoc."
"How do you know that?"
"I knew your Mr. Demming and company were watching for her, so I hired somebody to watch your people watch."
"Jesus Christ," said Richard. "You paid Demming to report to you before me, didn't you?"
Andy Beale shook his head sadly. "Richard, we're on the same side. We're a father and son. And since I'm assuming the pay for Demming and his people isn't coming out of your personal salary, I'm their real employer. But I didn't do what you think. I hired a detective. Period."
"You're interfering and getting in the way of what I'm trying to do."
Andy stared at Richard for a second, and couldn't help thinking what a fine-looking man he had grown into—and what a fool. He shrugged. "I didn't interfere with your people. What they were going to do, they did. They were watching the prison parking lot. When the woman came out, who did your Mr. Demming have there to see her and take advantage of the opportunity? One lone woman, who proceeded to follow her a few miles and then lose her in Lompoc, which was not, last time I looked, a huge and complicated metropolis."
"What you're saying is they made a mistake. If they didn't get her, then you're right. It happens. There are only four of them at the moment, and all four can't be in one place waiting for a woman who isn't even Christine."
"Exactly," said Andy. "So I'm changing the way we go about this, as of now. I want you to put business aside. Most of the money is invested in undeveloped land that will keep passively growing in value as long as we don't set off a nuclear weapon on it. The rental properties are pretty much the same, and we have people for maintenance and bill collection. The real estate sales people work on commission. So let it go."
"I think you're underestimating what it takes to run this business now. It's grown a lot since you retired."
"I'm not as out of touch as you wish I was. If we both died today, the property would still keep making money for years. I want you to concentrate on getting your girlfriend back."
"You know I've been doing that."
"Your girlfriend is at least six months pregnant, and she's been gone at least a month. It's time to stop waiting for spontaneous changes of heart or your half-assed crew of security people to come through. It's pretty damned clear that your people have had chances and blown them all. It's time to make an emotional appeal, which is what you should have done in the first place."
"How do you suggest I do that—put a note in a bottle? Hire skywriters?"
"This is a twenty-year-old girl. Kids don't read newspapers anymore, so you put what you want to say into your computer and find a way to be sure she'll find it. You could start a Web site and type your appeal into it. You tell her you love her and want to marry her and raise your baby together. Find other ways to get into her computer. See if she has a Web site under another name, or a MySpace page or YouTube or whatever else they do. Do it today. I'll want to see what you've done tomorrow night when I get back."
"Get back from where?"
"Lompoc. I told you I was going to see her father. You may have to see him, too, after I've made my visit. We'll see. I needed to write and get the man to agree to see me, and then get special permission from the prison authorities. I'm going tomorrow morning."
"All right," said Richard. "I hope it's not a waste of time."
"But you think it will be?" said Andy. "Just get your stuff done, and you won't need me."
The old man left, and Richard walked out of his office to the lobby window to see the Lexus pull out of the driveway and down the street. The last time he had come, Richard had devoted six hours to searching his office for cameras and microphones, but had found nothing. His father had been in here reading over the files on Richard's desk, and might have had time to do just about anything.
It was hard to know what the purpose of his visit had been. Maybe he had hidden cameras and microphones in here before, but had known that when he'd started bragging about how much he knew, then Richard would search for hidden devices. He might have come in during the night and removed them. Today's visit might have been to read what he could no longer see on a monitor. Or it could have been to reinstall the cameras and microphones now that Richard had completed his search. In spite of his crudeness and bullying, the old man was very cunning. He had always been particularly good at predicting what Richard would think and feel, and making pitiless use of it against him in these battles. If he hurt Richard's feelings it seemed to be a bonus for him. He was capable of putting bugging equipment in just for that purpose.
Richard took a quick look around the office, paying particular attention to electrical outlets, where some permanent bug could be planted. He examined the telephones and the computer to see if their shells had been opened. Then he looked under the furniture and stood on his desk to lift a ceiling tile and look around in the empty space above the frame. He heard a noise coming from outside the door, so he hastily climbed down and waited, but nobody entered. He leaned against the door. Nothing happened. He walked out into the lobby past Marlene, the pretty receptionist he had hired to take Christine's place. Or had he hired her? He had selected her, but who was to say why she had applied? She could easily be working for his father. Richard felt sick. Having his receptionist spying on him would be a thousand times worse than being bugged.
The thought made Richard feel panicky about Christine again. She knew too much about him, had been present for too many transactions, whether she had enough experience to know how to sort out what she knew or not. She was like a bomb, hidden somewhere and getting ready to go off in less than three months and obliterate him. Richard went outside to the parking lot behind the building and used his cell phone to call Demming.
"It's me," he said. "I hear one of your girls saw the woman who's been hiding Christine."
"How the hell did you hear that?" Demming said. Demming's surprise and annoyance made Richard feel in control. He was almost grateful to his father for a second.
"My father told me. He had somebody watching your person at Lompoc. I hear the woman got away."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Then it's true."
"Yes."
"Well, my father is going to visit Robert Monahan tomorrow."
"How is he going to do that? When you're sent there you have to give the warden's office a list of the people who might visit you—family and no more than three friends. He sure as hell couldn't have put down your father."
"My father says he wrote letters to Monahan and the prison people, and got permission."
The silence told Richard that Demming felt humiliated and angry. After a few seconds Demming said, "Does he know what to say?"
"I think he does. He's going to try to get Monahan to tell his daughter to come and see me. You know—that I can't wait to marry her and all that."