Night and Day (12 page)

Bain released my hand. “Miss Takeda will be your liaison with my staff,” he said. “If you
need anything, she will . . . expedite your request. I think you’ll find that she’s very efficient.”

I turned around. Miss Takeda, as her name indicated, was Japanese, with short black hair,
wearing a loose black jacket and a plain white blouse. Her black pants were loose, but tightly
cuffed at the ankles. I also saw a bulge under her left arm. Right about where a heavy-caliber
pistol in a shoulder holster would be.

She stared at me, her smooth, oval face blank. “Mr. Welles,” she said, stepping to one side
and pointing at the door.

I glanced over my shoulder at Bain. He was lighting another cigar, his eyes on the open file
folder in front of him. I’d been dismissed.

With a shrug, I walked past Takeda and she followed me into the hall, closing the door
behind us. “If you’ll follow me, sir,” she said.

It was something of a struggle to keep up with her. She was moving at a good clip, and my
legs were stiff from sitting with Bain. Takeda didn’t seem to notice. Or she didn’t care.

McKenna, the Vee who’d given me the painkilling injection earlier, was waiting by the front
door. Beside him was a muscular Vee in a midnight-blue uniform, a pistol at his hip. He wore a
red beret with a small emblem on the front, a black metal hawk or raptor of some kind with ruby
eyes. It looked a lot like the bird on the disk Joshua had given me.

We stopped.

“This should do you till the swelling is gone and the bruising starts to fade,” McKenna said,
handing me a small box. “Three pills. Take one before you go to bed tonight, another ten hours
later, and another tomorrow night before you go to bed. That should get you through the worst
of the pain. If you’re still hurting after that, see a human doctor.”

“Thanks.” I stuck the pills in my pocket.

He nodded.

Takeda looked to the guy in the blue uniform and he opened the door for us. I followed her
out of the house.

Chapter Ten

Getting a look around as we stepped onto the graveled drive, I realized that ‘house’ wasn’t
quite the right term for Bain’s residence. Mansion, maybe, or estate would be more accurate.
The government took good care of their Deputy Area Governors.

A large black vehicle was waiting in the driveway, the engine running, headlights on. I
hadn’t seen one in a while, but it looked like one of the big Ford sport utility vehicles, an
Expedition or Excursion. It was a climb to get into the passenger seat.

A portfolio-style briefcase was on the seat. I picked it up and sat, closing the door as Takeda
propelled herself into the driver’s seat. She slammed her door and we were rolling, fast. I
buckled my seatbelt.

She looked at the briefcase in my lap. “Full police file on the Joshua Thomas murder.”

Nodding, I jiggled the portfolio. It seemed a little heavy to be just paperwork. I opened it.
There was, indeed, a slim file folder inside. There was also a pistol. I looked at Takeda.

“Glock 29, 10mm, ten round magazine,” she said, eyes on the road. “The police ballistics
lab has custody of your weapon for the moment, so it’s been temporarily replaced. That is the
correct model and caliber, yes?”

“Yeah, same as what I had.”

“We will recover your weapon and return it to you, if you wish, sir,” she said. “Or you may
keep that one.”

“This will be fine,” I said, closing the portfolio. “I’m not a gun buff. No personal
attachment to weapons. As long as they hit what I’m shooting at, I don’t care.”

“As you wish, sir,” she said, still watching the road.

“So, you were what . . . Major Takeda? Colonel Takeda?”

“Captain, sir,” she said.

“Army?”

She shook her head. “Air Force, sir.”

I nodded. “Have you worked for the Deputy Area Governor very long?”

“I’ve served under General Bain since before the war.”

“During the war as well, I guess.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Where was that, anyway?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said with a tight smile. “There are specific things that I’m not permitted
to discuss with you.”

“I understand,” I said. “Did you know Joshua Thomas too?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir, I served with Colonel Thomas.”

“You’re an investigator?”

“No, sir,” she said. “Force protection.”

“And that was at . . .”

“I’m sorry, sir. There are certain things . . .”

“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted. “Certain things you can’t discuss.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Look, Miss Takeda, we’re not in the Air Force. You can back off on all the ‘sirs’. My
name is Charlie. Or Mr. Welles, if you prefer. Or nothing. Just not sir.”

She nodded. “My given name is Tiffany, though I would prefer you address me by my last
name,” she said.

“Understandable,” I said with a smile. “You don’t strike me as a Tiffany.” I paused. “So
what time is it anyway, Miss Takeda. The cops took my watch before they started beating the
crap out me.”

“Zero two fifty-three hours,” she said, her eyes flickering to the watch on her wrist, then
back to the road.

“Cutting it kind of close, aren’t you?” I asked, leaning back in the seat. “The sun will be up
before you can get back to Bain’s house.”

“I’ll be quartered in the city for the duration,” she said. “I am your associate in the
investigation of Colonel Thomas’s murder.”

“Any investigative experience?”

She shook her head. “The investigation is your responsibility. I will serve as a facilitator. If
you need resources, I will see they are provided.”

“Works for me,” I said, dropping the portfolio on the floor between my feet. “I’m going to
grab a little sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Do you wish to go to your apartment or your office?”

“Office,” I said after a moment’s thought. “I need to talk to Joshua’s secretary, if she hasn’t
run for the hills. You need the address?”

Takeda shook her head. “I was fully briefed before your arrival.”

“I guess Bain was pretty sure I’d go along with his proposal.”

“General Bain usually gets what he wants, Mr. Welles.”

“I don’t doubt that. Wake me when we get there.” I shifted my body into what passed for a
comfortable position, rested my chin on my chest and closed my eyes. It must have taken at least
60 seconds before I was asleep.

The abrupt stop woke me. I opened my eyes, took a moment to orient myself, and glanced at
Takeda. She sat totally still, hands on the steering wheel, staring at me. With her blank
expression, she looked more like a mannequin than a living creature.

“We’re here,” she said.

I felt like hell. My entire body ached, I was borderline nauseous, and my head felt like it
was about to pop like a swollen boil. “Yeah, okay,” I muttered, grabbing the portfolio.

“Sunset is at eighteen-thirty-five hours,” Takeda said. “I’ll meet you at nineteen hundred
with your ID package and Colonel Thomas’s vehicle. Should I meet you here or at your
apartment?”

“Here,” I said. “After I talk to Sara, I’ll either crash on the couch in my office for a couple
of hours or go home and get some sleep. Either way, I’ll be here by seven.”

Takeda nodded. “Is there anything you’ll need before tonight?”

“You have people available during the day?”

“There is human staff available, yes.”

“Yeah, there are a couple of things you can do,” I said. She listened impassively as I told
her what they were.

When I was finished, I asked, “Any questions or problems with what I need?”

She shook her head. “No questions and I anticipate no problems.”

“I’ll see you at seven,” I said, grabbing the portfolio and climbing out of the truck. I’d
barely slammed the door before she accelerated down the dark street.

I looked up at the Triangle Building. The lights in my office were on. I stuck the portfolio
under my arm and started for the door.

The night security guy behind the desk in the lobby gave me a hard stare, but didn’t say
anything. Neither did I. Night and Day was probably the only business in the building that
operates twenty-four hours a day, and if the guy had worked the night shift for any length of
time, he’d probably seen people who looked a lot rougher than me wander in off the street and
head to the fourth floor.

I was nearly to the stairwell when I stopped and went back to the desk out front. The
security guy continued to stare at me, but didn’t say anything. I noticed his hand was resting on
the butt of his holstered pistol.

“Who’s in the building?” I asked.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Who is in the building,” I repeated slowly. “You and who else?”

“Sir, I think . . .” He started to stand.

I smiled at him and put the portfolio on the desk. “Just a second,” I said.

He was standing, his hand still resting on the butt of his pistol. I ignored him and opened the
portfolio. He watched.

Before he could move, I pulled out the pistol and leveled it at his nose. “Take your hand
away from your gun and answer my question,” I said calmly. “Please.”

He slowly raised his hands. “I don’t have any money.”

I sighed. “I don’t want your money. Just answer my fucking question, okay?”

“Just me and the woman on four,” he said quickly, his eyes wide.

“Nobody else?”

“Not that I know of.”

“The woman on four. Short Vee with blonde hair? Kinda cute?”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah, that’s her. She works there.”

“So do I,” I said, shoving the pistol back in the portfolio. “Thanks.” I picked up the
portfolio and started toward the stairwell. But the closer I got to it, the less I wanted to climb
four flights of stairs.

As much as I hated the antique elevator, I decided to take it. Behind me, I could hear the
security guy come around the desk. He was probably watching me, trying to decide if it was
worth making a fuss. In the end, I guess he decided it wasn’t. I heard the creak as he settled
back in his chair.

Sara was behind her desk when I came through the door. She looked up and stared, not
saying a word.

I don’t know what I was expecting. Excitement, hysteria, even anger. But not a silent stare.
I didn’t know what to say, so I stared back.

“You look awful, Charlie,” she finally said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Feel awful too.”

“I thought the cops arrested you.”

“They did. I was unarrested by the Deputy Area Governor.”

She nodded.

“So, what are you doing?”

Sara looked around the desk. “I don’t really know,” she said, sounding almost confused. “I
mean, with Joshua dead and you in jail, there really isn’t any work, but I didn’t know what else
to do or where else to go. So I came in. I’ve been catching up on the books and the filing.”

I nodded. “Look, Sara, I need to ask you a couple of questions, and when we’re done, I want
you to go home and get some rest. Things are going to get pretty busy around here in the next
few days, and I’m going to need you at the top of your game.”

There was something childlike in the smile she gave me. “Sure, Charlie,” she said, her voice
calm, almost a monotone. “What do you need to know?”

“First tell me exactly what happened here last night.”

“Well,” she started, “I got in at the usual time, straightened things up a little, started working
on the monthly expense report. Joshua didn’t come in at his regular time, but that wasn’t
unusual. Sometimes he has an early appointment, or goes straight to work on a case.”

I had the police report on Joshua’s murder in the briefcase under my arm, as-yet unread. I’d
see what it said about time of death and the time the body was discovered after I got settled in.
For the moment, I was more interested in what had happened in the office.

“About eight-forty or so, two cops showed up, said Joshua had been murdered, and that
you’d been arrested for it. One of them stayed with me while the other one went into your office.
He was in there about fifteen minutes. Then he came out with a handful of files, and they left.”

“Did the cops identify themselves?”

Sara shook her head. “No, but one of them was that mean-looking chubby cop who was
here the other night. I hadn’t seen the other one before.”

Ray Holstein.

“Which one went into the office?”

“The mean one. The other stayed out here.”

I nodded. “Did you talk to the cop who stayed with you?”

“I tried,” she said. “I guess I was really upset, crying. I kept asking him what had happened
to Joshua, and why they’d arrested you. He wouldn’t answer.”