Back Track (23 page)

Bishop scratched under his chin and looked out the window. There wasn’t much of a view. A small car park, and beyond that a couple of empty lots overgrown with grass. ‘I doubt he came out here of his own choice,’ he said.

Kate pretended to look hurt. ‘And what’s wrong with our little town?’

‘You tell me. My point is, I’ve never heard of a plastic surgeon going into semi-retirement. The kind of money they earn, the good ones either keep working or they stop altogether. And if this Tatem worked with a major Hollywood studio, I’m guessing he was a good one. So he either can’t operate any more or he was forced out for some reason. And since he’s still taking on patients, I’m going for the second option.’

‘I kind of came to the same conclusion when I read it,’ she said. ‘He won’t talk to you, you know.’

‘I’m a pretty forceful personality, myself,’ Bishop said. ‘I think I can probably get him to open up.’

Vallejo snorted. ‘
I
can vouch for that.’

‘What about the wife?’ Bishop asked. ‘You know her at all?’

Kate shook her head. ‘People saw her occasionally when they first moved here. Real pretty, like you’d expect. They seemed to think late twenties, while he had to be in his late forties then. Haven’t seen anything of her since, though. Could be she missed the high life and headed back to L.A.’

Bishop looked out the window again. ‘That’s interesting.’ He turned back to Kate and said, ‘Can you write down Tatem’s address for me? His phone number, too.’

‘Sure, on one condition.’

He looked at her. ‘Let me guess. Once we get to the bottom of this, you get exclusive rights to the story.’

Kate stretched her arms wide. ‘Hey, I like it here, but when I was at journalism school at Arizona State I kind of set my sights a little higher than the
Saracen Post
. And I’m not getting any younger. Look, I admit I had my doubts about Clarissa’s tale when I first heard it, but now I’ve heard your side of the story I’m getting a feeling this could be something interesting. And I want in.’

‘I could probably find that address on my own.’

‘You probably could. But what makes you think you won’t need my help again? In case you haven’t realized, I know most of what goes on in this town. And more important, I know the people.’ She slid a notepad over and picked up a pen. ‘So we got a deal or what?’

Bishop paused. It didn’t take him long to realize he had absolutely nothing to lose. And everything to gain. As long as there were ground rules.

‘Selina’s name doesn’t get mentioned anywhere,’ he said. ‘And I mean
any
where.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Same goes for me. I prefer it in the shade.’

‘Okay.’

‘Then we got a deal,’ he said. ‘Give us his details.’

Once they were back in the car, Vallejo said, ‘I think she likes you.’

‘What’s not to like?’ Bishop said distractedly. He was looking out the windshield and thinking of how to get rid of Vallejo for a few hours. Suspended or not, she was still a cop and there were some things she just wouldn’t stand for. And he really needed to see this Tatem alone. Because one way or another, the man was going to talk.

Vallejo looked down at the paper Kate had given her and said, ‘28 East Parsons Avenue. I think I’ve driven down there before. If I remember right, Saracen High School’s on the same street. So you want to go there now?’

‘Not yet. I really need some wheels of my own again, and now my Chevy’s history I don’t think the rental companies are going to exactly welcome me with open arms.’ He turned to her. ‘When I was driving out to the medical centre before, I remember passing a couple of used car lots. You know the ones I mean?’

‘Yeah, real classy places. I got the impression you could go there with five grand in your pocket, drive away their best vehicle and still have change left over.’

‘Sounds perfect,’ he said. ‘Let’s go take a look.’

Forty-three minutes later, Bishop left the mobile trailer that served as the main office of T.J. Singer’s Autos and Trucks. In his hand were the keys and registration to a twenty-year-old, pale grey Buick LeSabre with over one hundred and fifty thousand miles on the clock. T.J. had given him a big smile when he handed over the $900 in cash. As well he should. Bishop had probably made his week.

Bishop walked back over the car lot and saw Vallejo standing next to the boxy monstrosity, shaking her head. ‘I can’t believe you paid money for this heap, Bishop.’

He shrugged and opened the driver’s door. ‘As long as it gets me from A to B, I don’t care what it looks like. Besides, I only need it for a few days.’

‘Uh huh. So can I assume we’re about to go in different directions from here?’

‘Only temporarily,’ Bishop said and got in and manually wound down the front windows. The vehicle had an unpleasant, musty odour mixed in with a faint aroma of stale tobacco. ‘I’ve been thinking it might be a good idea to make the most of Kate’s knowledge now that she’s offered to help.’

Vallejo leaned on the window frame. ‘And that’s where I come in, is it?’

‘Well, the hard drive’s back in your room. Tell me, how easy is it to split movie files up into sections?’

‘You mean like .mpegs? Pretty easy, I think. I could download a program from the net. There’s probably hundreds of them.’

‘Okay, so what I need you to do is copy that final hour onto your laptop, then isolate the footage from where the SUV pulls up to the moment before they pull Hewitt’s body from the rear. It’s probably a couple of minutes’ worth, but make sure there’s nothing incriminating on there. Then show Kate the footage and see if she recognizes any of the bad guys or the vehicle. But don’t let her keep a copy.’

‘Okay. But you know she’ll ask questions.’

‘Then answer them as best you can. Maybe mix a few half-truths in there to keep her happy. I trust you to know what to say and what not to. We can meet up later and exchange information.’

‘So you’re going to try and see this Tatem alone, huh?’

‘I think it’s best.’

Vallejo let out a long breath. ‘Meaning I don’t need to know any more than that, right? Look, Bishop, promise you’ll try and be gentle with him, okay? It’s possible he’s not actually involved in what’s going on. We just don’t know.’

Bishop’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Sure, Vallejo, he could be entirely innocent.’

‘Okay, okay. But have you even thought about how you’ll get in to see him? Kate said the guy’s surrounded by walls.’

Bishop pulled the door shut and started the engine. It caught first time, which surprised him. ‘I’ll think of something,’ he said, before slowly pulling out of the lot.

Bishop parked under one of the ash trees dotted along East Parsons Avenue and watched the entrance to No. 28 in his rear-view. The steel gate, set in a recess in the perimeter wall, was just out of sight from his current position. But he’d studied it as he passed and hadn’t spotted a keypad or intercom anywhere.

Surrounding the property on all sides was an eight-foot high stucco wall, topped with elaborate wrought-iron spikes. No. 28 wasn’t the only large, walled property on this street, but it was the best protected. Tatem was clearly a man who took his privacy seriously. Bishop had already checked the next street down for a rear entrance, but hadn’t found one. Which meant the front gate was the only way in or out.

Directly opposite, behind a chain-link fence, was the Saracen High School athletic field with some school buildings in the distance. Nobody was playing today. The field was empty. In fact, the whole street was quiet. That was something, at least.

He picked his cell phone off the passenger seat, blocked the caller ID, then dialled the number Kate had given him.

On the ninth ring, a male voice said, ‘Hello?’

Bishop spoke fast. ‘That you, doc? ’Cause we need you down at Garrick hospital, ASAP.’

‘Who is this? I don’t recognize your voice.’

Bishop noted Tatem’s own voice had a peevish, slightly nervous edge to it. Along with a submissive quality he hoped he wasn’t just imagining. Sounded like whatever the good doctor was involved in, he wasn’t exactly an equal partner.

‘This is Tyrone,’ Bishop said. ‘I’m new.’

‘I usually only take instructions from Abraham.’

Abraham
. Now he had a name. It was a promising start.

‘So is that a no, doc? Or do you want me to go interrupt Abraham so he can tell you himself? I think we both know how he’ll react.’

‘No, no. There’s no need for that.’ Tatem gave a sigh. ‘So has another one arrived already?’

Every part of Bishop wanted to ask him what he meant, but as usual, good sense overrode his impulses. There’d be time later for questions and answers. ‘Not my department,’ he said. ‘Look, I’m just telling you what Abraham told me, and that’s to get your ass down to Garrick as soon as we finish talking. That okay with you, doc, or you wanna waste some more time and ask me something else?’

‘No, no, I’ll drive over there now,’ he said, and then the line went dead.

Bishop smiled to himself. Injecting a little authority into your voice often did half the work for you. He placed the cell in the glove compartment, got out and locked the car. Then he opened the trunk and pulled out an army green ten-litre jerry can. He’d bought it from a service station on the way here. Filled it there, too. After locking the trunk, he walked over and stood under cover of the next tree down. It was about ten yards to the left of the recessed entrance. He placed the jerry can on the ground next to him and waited.

Bishop had counted off two hundred and ninety-six seconds before he heard the barely noticeable sound of the gate mechanism being activated.
A little tardy there, doc
.

He picked up the fuel container, moved over to the wall and peered round at the entranceway. The double gates were swinging slowly inwards where a silver, two-door Mercedes coupé was waiting, engine idling so quietly he could barely hear it. Through the windows, he saw the male driver was wearing a pale shirt and dark tie.

Once the gap was wide enough, the driver edged the Merc through and stopped just before the kerb. As he reached up and pressed something on the overhead control panel, Bishop ran towards the car, closing the distance in two seconds. He pulled the passenger door open and slid into the spare seat before the driver even knew what was happening. His first impression was that the interior smelled a hell of a lot nicer than his Buick.

Tatem gaped at him and said, ‘
Hey
, what are you doing? Who are you? I’m warning you – you’d better get out
now
.’

‘Afraid I can’t do that, doc,’ Bishop said, placing the jerry can between his legs. ‘And I’m the guy you just spoke to on the phone. Now be a good boy and take us back up to the house.’

‘I’m not taking you anywhere,’ Tatem shouted, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white. ‘You’re in my car. Get
out
.’

Bishop almost felt sorry for the guy. It clearly took some people a little longer than others to adapt to new situations. Well, that was okay. Bishop sighed, and with his right hand reached back into his waistband. ‘You gonna make me bring out my gun, is that it? ’Cause once it comes out, it stays out.’

Tatem’s face went slack. ‘Gun?’

‘Right. A shiny .357 Colt Python. Great for close-up work. Want to see it?’

Tatem closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘God, no.’

‘Wise call. Let’s keep things civilized.’ Bishop pulled his hand back out and looked up. There was a small remote stuck to the overhead panel. On it were two buttons. He pressed the top one, turned his head and saw the gate opening behind them. ‘Now reverse through the gate and drive us back to the house.’

Tatem opened his eyes and looked straight ahead, moving his lips silently as though talking to himself. He looked as though he’d expected nothing less. Like karma was finally catching up with him. Bishop didn’t like that look.

‘Are you going to kill me?’ Tatem asked in an even tone.

‘That depends on you, doc. Are you going to do what I said and reverse this thing?’

It seemed to Bishop that Tatem visibly deflated as he adjusted the gear stick, the anger from a moment ago a distant memory. Bishop watched him carefully as he slowly reversed through the gate, made a K turn and advanced down the long driveway. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, with short, steel-grey hair turning white at the temples and sideburns. The distinguished look loved by successful doctors everywhere. Bishop also noted the gold wedding band on the fourth finger of his left hand and the spare tyre round his waist.

Bishop pressed the other button to close the gates and faced forward. Up ahead, Tatem’s single-storey house had a Spanish hacienda feel to it. There was a portico entranceway at the front and a sheltered patio area on the left. Lots of glass. The house was surrounded on all sides by low maintenance gravel and paving stones, with citrus trees and Mexican fan palms dotted around. The driveway ended in a double garage jutting out on the right. The door opened automatically when they were within twenty feet and Tatem took them in. Theirs was the only car parked there.

Once Tatem turned off the engine, Bishop removed the keys from the ignition. Grabbing hold of the jerry can, he got out first and saw a connecting door at the back.

‘Okay, doc,’ he said. ‘Let’s go inside now. You first.’

While Bishop waited for Tatem to join him, he studied the garage floor on the empty side and couldn’t see any oil stains anywhere. It was practically spotless. Which more or less confirmed Tatem was on his own out here. Yet he was still married.
Interesting
.

Tatem led him through the door and into a laundry room. Through the open doorway, Bishop could see a large kitchen beyond.

‘Where are we going?’ Tatem asked, turning to him.

‘Where do you keep your gun? And don’t insult my intelligence by telling me you don’t own one.’

Tatem sighed and said, ‘I keep a revolver in my work desk in my office.’

‘Then that’s where we’re going. Lead on.’