Corrector (21 page)

The implication was they could have a comfortable chat here if Jake didn’t require the lawyer, but if he wanted to resist, they would do this the harder way.

“Please, come in.  I have no reason to need a lawyer.  We can talk in the living room.”

They all stepped inside.  Jake noted that the four officers behind Howard and the black cop immediately set off about their search.  Howard and the large cop followed Jake into the living room where they sat down.

“Very nice place you have here,” Detective Howard noted.  “What is it that you do?”

Jake was certain Howard already knew, but he’d play the game.  He told him about his programming.

“You’ve been lucky with the market also,” Howard said, confirming he already knew a fair amount about Jake.

“Excuse me if I’m out of line here, but it seems to me that you are taking this awfully far based on a simple comment I made.”

Detective Howard smiled wryly.  “The comment was just a trigger.  Your actions given the circumstances, along with this has gained our interest.”  He motioned to the cop, who handed over an envelope.  Howard pulled out a drawing from the inside and passed it over to Jake.

It was a sketch of a young male.  The man was bearded, with hair and general features not too unlike his own.  There was no way to tell any more about him from the sketch.

“That was made from the input taken from more than two dozen people.  It’s a composite of someone who might have been the shooter.  He’s said to be about your height and age, and you can see a certain resemblance to yourself.  Tell me, have you ever worn a beard?”

Jake thought about the beard he’d had until recently.  Both Zack and Nate had seen the beard he’d started before departing on his trip, and neither had seen him since his return. If asked, they would have to reveal he’d started one.  He had no way to prove it had been removed before he’d returned to Sparks.

“I had one until just recently.  I didn’t want to shave while on my trip.  I removed it a little over a week ago when I was almost home.  Mind’s a bit lighter than that, of course.”

“Your trip.  I’ll want to go over that in detail, of course.  I’ll warn you that I’ve asked for your phone records, so that should help us establish where you were during that time.  You say you got back over a week ago.  That would have put you back in town before the events in San Francisco.” 

Jake hadn’t said when he had returned to Sparks and was suddenly certain that Howard already had seen his phone records and knew where he’d been and when he’d returned.  The man liked to mislead you with what he knew and didn’t.

Before they could get too deep into the discussion, one of the cops that was searching his house walked over and spoke quietly into Howard’s ear.  He also handed him a plastic bag with something inside.

“They have found a gun safe,” he said when the cop stepped away and returned to his task.  “Oh, and this as well.”  Howard held up the bag which contained a bottle of the hair coloring dye that Jake liked to use.  He’d forgotten that he always kept a couple of bottles on hand.  Detective Howard looked at him meaningfully.

“Do you think we could impose upon you to open the safe for us?” Howard asked politely.  “There are other means of getting inside, but they are ultimately somewhat destructive.”

“Why not?” Jake said.  “Let’s go.”

“You appear to like guns,” Detective Howard noted once the door was open.  “I’m surprised at the suppressors.  Those aren’t exactly common items.”

By now Jake was warming up to Howard, and he was certain the man already knew about his registered collection, including the two suppressors in this safe that were fully registered.

“I have full documentation for everything in here,” he explained, and pointed to a folder that contained records for the items.  He had no intention of defending the specific items. 

Howard nodded toward one of the cops who reached in and retrieved the folder.

Another of the searchers showed Howard a box on ammunition.  It was one of several types of 9mm ammunition that Jake had on hand.  He had four or five thousands rounds.  He was suddenly certain that this particular brand was the same type the shooter had used.

“Document everything inside,” Detective Howard instructed the man.  To Jake, he said, “Let’s go back in the other room where it’s quiet and continue our discussion.  They can handle this without us.”

Jake didn’t like having people paw through his stuff, but there was nothing he could do about it.  They returned to the living room where Howard began his questions.  Jake decided he wasn’t going to learn anything more, but the picture he’d seen and the description of the possible killer was a significant gain.  When one of the cops came in and indicated they’d found the second gun safe, Jake decided he’d had enough of this. 

Making a mental note that he was going to rethink his hiding of the operational safe at some point, he back-tracked eight days. While he preferred to start and end these transitions from a position of rest and comfort, he’d long ago established he could transition at any time, which in this case worked in his favor.

The memories rocked Jake like a physical blow.  The combined mental and physical stress caused him to audibly groan and grab his head.  Momentarily his heart hammered in his chest, then slowly backed down as he realized that Karin was at the moment safe and well.  She would be on the road, somewhere between Los Angeles and Northern California.  He was going to have to be certain she remained safe.  The visit by Detective Howard wasn’t a concern.  That would never happen.  He would ensure he didn’t come to the attention of the San Francisco police.  The visit did point out, however, that he wasn’t as well protected as he’d thought.  It had taken them less than an hour to uncover his hidden stash of weapons.  When he had time, he’d need to address that situation.

As he stood and headed for the bathroom for some aspirin, he tried to consider the situation.  It was now two days before the event.  He’d partially thought out his approach before back-tracking, so he could take action without too much delay.  This was important because his head was screaming at him making it hard to think.  He kept recalling the vision of Karin in the hospital bed, head shaved and comatose.

After taking the pills he swung by the kitchen for a dose of caffeine, then headed out to the garage to start packing.  He had decided somewhere along the way to take the Chevy.  He’d be himself for this trip.  He hadn’t had time to look into a new ID, and with Karin staying at the hotel where he’d be making reservations, there was little point in trying to hide who he was.  The truck was more secure than the Toyota Camry, and the BMW was too prone to attracting attention.

His first stop was the gun safe.  He was torn as to which items to bring along.  He wanted the rifle for sure.  However, he was going into the PRC, the People’s Republic of California, and that meant much of his gear was forbidden.  That meant certain advantages to the hidden suppressor and the oil can approach.  On the other hand, he knew if he was to attempt a shot, he would want to know where the bullets were going on the first shot.  That meant the commercial suppressor was the better choice.  Still undecided, he decided he would bring both.  He’d see how the situation developed and make that decision later.  He didn’t want to have to make another drive back to Nevada to get additional equipment. 

He followed the same approach for the handgun.  He’d bring the Sig, along with a couple of barrels, and both the commercial suppressor and have available the adapter for the alternate approach.  The adapters for the rifle and pistol were different, so he’d need to hide the pistol adapter in the car.  Since the suppressors were already a violation, having the adapter discovered wouldn’t mean any more trouble.  He’d just have to hope no one showed any interest or checked his vehicle carefully.

He loaded the selections into the secure compartment of the truck.  The only firearm he kept out and at hand was the tiny Colt Mustang which he slipped into a pocket of his jacket.  Having a gun on him wasn’t a good idea in California, but he doubted anyone would be checking, and he felt better having it handy, despite the diminutive size.  Better the little one with him than the magnum home in the safe.  Next he threw several days clothes into his large suitcase which went into the back along with a cooler filled with soft drinks and chips to carry him through the drive.  Then he was ready to go.

He jumped onto the 80 west and headed for California.  Just over three hours later he was coming down the steep hill on the northern edge of Vallejo, looking for the turnoff that would take him over by the fairgrounds and to the Best Western he had visited a few days from now before back-tracking.  He pulled into the parking lot near the lobby, and went inside to register.  Using his own ID and credit card, he booked a room for a full week, asking for something on the second floor.  He didn’t really know how long he would be staying, but he wanted to be sure he was covered.  The cost wasn’t important.  He was assigned to room 245, which wasn’t very far from the room Karin and Ellen would have when they arrived tomorrow afternoon.  After returning to the truck and unloading his suitcase, he jumped back onto the freeway and headed south, crossing over the bay on the Richmond Bridge and then entering the city via the Golden Gate Bridge after paying the exorbitant toll. 

After fighting his way through traffic, Jake finally arrived at the same parking area where he’d seen Ellen’s car.  It took him a couple of loops around the street before he lucked out as a pair of backup lights announced someone was leaving up ahead.  He goosed the pedal and made sure no one found a way to beat him to the spot, and pulled in happily. 

Jake didn’t like leaving the truck with the gear it contained, but he hadn’t felt secure leaving the items back in the hotel either.  He activated the alarm, and hoped that if the vehicle was targeted because of the out of state plates, they wouldn’t find the secure compartment.  A few minutes later he was back at the entrance to Ghirardelli Square.

Of course today was like almost any other day.  It was a Friday, and the place was packed.  The weather was still excellent this time of year, and both out-of-towners and locals found Ghirardelli one of the nicer places to visit.  He walked up the steps that led to the open central area, and slowly worked his way around the courtyard.  He knew which entrances Ellen and Karin would be likely to use, but there were several others by which the shooter might arrive.  The building he would shoot from was also a problem.  Jake found three different entrances, each hidden from view of the other two.  He could watch one, but would be unable to know what was happening at the others. 

Inside the building, he worked his way upwards.  There were a variety of shops selling souvenirs and food.  On the upper level he located what had to be the access point to the roof.  The sturdy and locked door was midway down the hall.  There were any number of points where Jake would be able to watch it, but none were particularly concealed and there was no way to get up to the roof to see what options would be available to him.  He also knew he wouldn’t be able to count on the place being empty.  In the short time he’d been on this level, more than twenty people had passed through.  This wasn’t what he liked.  He had always chosen his confrontation point away from crowds.  Getting in, and equally important, getting away, would be difficult.  He could understand why the shooter had chosen to leave his weapons behind.

Back outside, he scanned the surrounding area.  The only building that had a view of the rooftop was some distance away.  It housed a number of high end condos.  It didn’t appear to be an option to Jake.  Not only could he not see any feasible way to gain access to the building without drawing attention to himself, especially with the needed weapons, but it was a long shot, with a background of the heavily populated open courtyard of Ghirardelli Square which wouldn’t be acceptable.  In addition, any shot would have to be made over the long distance in the presence of the undependable winds coming off the water a short distance away.  This wouldn’t work.

Jake spent another hour walking around, examining the area from all quadrants and checking the possible routes in and out.  By the time he left to drive back to Vallejo, he had all but decided he wasn’t going to be able to go after the shooter himself.  The decision would make Karin happy, but he wasn’t convinced how effective the police would be.  He would have to insist that Karin and Ellen stay away from the area the day of the shooting, just in case the police screwed it up.

The next morning after breakfast he drove back into the city.  He wanted another look at the area to confirm the conclusions he’d reached the previous evening after returning to the hotel.  There wasn’t much else to do that morning anyway.  Karin and Ellen wouldn’t be arriving until later in the afternoon.  He fought the last of the rush hour traffic, something he’d assumed would have been over this late in the morning and parked close to where he’d been the previous day.  Then he spent the next five hours considering the area.

By the time he returned to the truck and began the drive back across the Golden Gate Bridge, he was convinced the shooter had walked to the scene.  That was the way he’d do it if he had been planning to go after the killer himself.  The location was a traffic nightmare.  Even under the best of conditions getting away from the spot was a challenge. With water on effectively two sides and small narrow roads complete with cable car tracks, traffic could easily become jammed up.  After an attack, with panic and people fleeing, it might be a very long time before one could drive away.  It would be better to simply walk four or five blocks and have a car parked there.  He’d scouted the area and found numerous places up towards the famous Lombard street where one could park and have a much better hope of accessing one of the main streets and escaping.  He’d bet good money the shooter had done that, or perhaps was even a resident in one of the many houses or apartments in the area.  Unfortunately, there were too many roads that provided access to be able to wait and watch for him.