“Call him up, I’ll give you the number. You can talk to his machine, just as you did mine. Or, I’ll give you another number where you can learn his views on anything from the Supreme Court to harbor seals-he’s for killing both, only one for furs. Still another number will earn you a personal appeal for funds.”
“I want to talk to him privately and confidentially.”
“What about?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“I think you’re going to have to.”
“If everyone knows about it, Sid, there’s no point in discussing it with him.”
“Has this anything to do with a certain rumor I told you about?”
The man was sharp all right. “Why would you think that?”
“Answer a question with a question?” He laughed. “Okay, perfesser, you win. You don’t have to tell me, but you’re going to have to tell someone. The great man’s calls are screened. You’re going to have to provide a good reason for speaking to him, otherwise you’re just some goof-off college professor bugging him with oddball ideas. And Wright isn’t counting too heavily on the vote of academe.”
“I suppose you’re right.” He sighed. “If I say what I want to talk to Wright about, how many people will have to know it?”
He said nothing for a moment. “It’s a crapshoot no matter what, but I may be able to whisper in the shell-like ear of someone hopefully close to the great man, who will possibly deliver the right message and-”
“I get the idea, Sid. Whatever I do, chances are it’ll be on the evening news.”
“A lot depends on the initial message. If Wright doesn’t want it known-”
“I hardly think he will.” He paused. “How about you, Sid? How many people do you tell?”
“You wound me, perfesser. Confidences are my life.”
“This is heavy stuff, Sid, lives may be at stake.”
His voice changed, lost its insouciance. “Okay, Walt, I’m impressed. What’s your message for Wright?”
He thought a moment. Say as little as possible, but pique his interest. “Okay, here it is. I can only hope for the best. Say, ’I know where Amanda Sykes is, but I’ll only talk to Wright personally and confidentially.’ Got that, Sid? Don’t write it down and above all don’t ask me any questions. Bye and thanks. I owe you.”
“Do you provide domestic help for the Kinkaid estate?”
“Yes, we do.”
Only her third call. How fortunate. DeeDee glanced at her list, Elite Placements, run by Anita Hockhousen. She’d never heard of Anita Hockhousen, and she’d so hoped to deal with someone she knew. “Is Anita in her office?”
“Who shall I say is calling?”
“Never mind, I’ll drop around.”
The office was on State Street below Mission. She arrived bearing a bouquet of flowers.
“These are beautiful, DeeDee, but why on earth?”
She was mid-50s, a full-sized woman, but well presented in an ivory-colored suit, her brown hair nicely coiffed. There was a bit of the Hillary Clinton in her. She’d need diplomacy in dealing with both the upstairs and downstairs folk. “I need a favor.” DeeDee smiled. “And I thought flowers might-”
“You’re right about that. Let me find a vase and we’ll talk.” One was produced. “You don’t remember, DeeDee, but we met once, at Bonnie James’ garden party last year.”
“I knew you looked familiar, how could I forget?” She smiled. “I keep having more and more of these senior moments.”
“Middle-aged moments, you mean.” She deposited the arranged vase on a table behind her. “Now what’s the favor?”
“You provide servants for the Kinkaids, don’t you?”
“One of my better accounts.”
“May I ask how many and what types?”
“It varies. If no one is in residence, I send hardly anyone. Right now, with Miss Fielding there, it’s as many as six or eight, mostly kitchen help, maid, cleaning women. On laundry days it may be two or three more. Then there are the outside people, gardeners and such. That, too, varies but usually two or three. Why do you want to know?”
“I want to be hired on.”
“You? Why on earth would you?”
She screwed up her face. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. “I need to get into the house.”
“Then visit. Take her some flowers. It worked with me.”
“I need the run of the place, Anita. I need-” She grimaced. “I need to check on something…look around without…anyone knowing.
“Why would you want to do that, DeeDee?”
She sighed. “Do I have to answer?”
“If you want my help. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk losing a valuable customer.”
She nodded, inhaled, blurted, “I think people are being held in the castle against their will.”
“In the tower?”
Dee-Dee gasped. “You know?”
“Heaven’s no.” Anita laughed. “My girls talk about it, how mysterious it is, how they can’t go up there.” Again she laughed. “We’ve all read gothic novels and have imaginations.”
“Then you’ll help me?”
Anita Hockhousen arose, walked away from her desk to look out a window. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?”
“I think I do, yes.” Her voice was small.
“I could be risking, not only money, but my reputation.”
“I’m sorry, Anita.” She could think of nothing else to say. Anita was only right. This was too big a favor.
Suddenly the woman laughed. “Somebody told me once how hard you are to refuse.” She turned back to DeeDee. “What the hell! Everyone loves a mystery.”
“Thank you, Anita. It will only be for a day or two.”
“There’s still a problem, DeeDee. All my girls are regulars, been with me a long time. They need the money. I can’t just-”
“I’ll pay twice what you do, no, make it $1,000, if someone gets sick for a week.”
Anita Hockhousen stared at her. “You really are serious, aren’t you?” She thought a moment. “I’m sure Susan would love the money and time off. She’s a maid, does light housekeeping, serves meals, drinks, that sort of thing.”
“She has the run of the house?”
”I assume she goes most anywhere, but-”
“When do I start?”
“Whoa, DeeDee. You’ll never pull it off. Too many people know you. The last thing you look like is a downstairs maid.”
“You’d be surprised how I can change my appearance. As for people recognizing me, who expects to find DeeDee Byerly in a maid’s uniform serving cocktails?”
“You may have a point.” She sighed. “Very well, but if Hildegard, the housekeeper, calls up and wants you replaced, there’s nothing I can do about it and you’re out your money.”
She waved that aside. “When do I start?”
“Tomorrow if you wish.”
“Too soon, I’m not ready.” She remembered Walt’s operation. Maybe she’d never be ready. “The day after. Where do I go?”
“I’ll give you a uniform. You meet here at 7 a.m., we drive you and the others out there.”
She hugged her. “Thank you, thank you, you’ve made my day.”
“I still have my doubts.”
“If anything goes wrong, it won’t come back to you.” She started for the door, then turned back. “Oh Lord, I almost forgot. Walter, that’s my husband, won’t let me go without him. Could you-”
“How is he at mowing, weeding, general handyman stuff?”
“He does that before breakfast.”
“I’ll give you overalls and an ID.”
“You’d better give us phony names. And thanks again for everything.”
“Personally I think you’ll both be sorry, but if you find any bodies in the tower let me know.”
Lupe entered Olympic Fitness on West Carrillo Street, second floor, and approached the attendant at the counter. It was the fifth gym on her list. “Does this man work out here?” She showed a photo of Harry Gould.
“Who wants to know?”
The blonde’s spandex was expanded and not just by muscles. Lupe worked out regularly and thought she was in good shape, but she did not look like this woman. The plastic man produced a body like hers. “I’m Detective Hernandez, Santa Barbara police.” She showed her gold shield. “Did you know Harry Gould?”
“He’s the guy what killed hisself, ain’t he?”