Who in Hell Is Wanda Fuca? (23 page)

"Charles."

"Yeah, Charles."

"He was two before Ted."

I ignored her. "Whatever." So much for delicacy. "What
exactly was it he did for the EPA?"

"Regional director for enforcement."

I tried to look impressed. I shouldn't have bothered.

"Sounds good, but doesn't pay. I tried to steer him into consulting, he
could have made a fortune, but the boob was fixated on public service. Can you
imagine? He thought - "

"Do you have a number for him?" I interrupted. She was taken
aback.

"Whatever would you want his number for?"

"I need to talk to somebody in the EPA. I figured he'd be a good place
to start." Her eyes glazed over.

"You're not still doing that security guard thing, are you?"

There was no point in correcting her. " ‘Fraid so." Her expression
screamed regret, but at least she was polite.

"I think I have one of his cards in my purse," she said, reaching
behind her to the windowsill. She rooted around and came out with a business
card. I reached for my notebook. She handed me the card.

"Keep it. And Leo," she whispered, "be careful of that little
jerk. A bureaucrat from the top of his head down to his tasseled little shoes,
if you know what I mean."

I figured this meant that she'd been only moderately successful in
separating him from all his worldly goods.

Wendy, as was her custom, expected an immediate return for the favor.
"Do you still own that big old house up on Queen Anne?" she asked.

"Sure do."

"You live there?"

"No. I rent it out."

"For goodness sakes, why?"

"It was my parents' house. I don't know; I just wouldn't feel right
living there. I'd always hear my mother telling me to clean the place up."

Now we were on Wendy's turf. I could see the wheels turning.

"Leo," she said, moving closer, "do you have any idea what we
could get for that place with the market the way it is? It must be worth at
least - "

"I can't sell it."

"You can buy a lot of sentiment with a half a mil - "

"The old man left me the place in trust. I can't sell it until I'm
forty-five." I'd ruined her day.

"What a pity."

"Annette sure thought so." To my ex-wife's dismay, the house and
my trust had not been part of the community property settlement.

"Your father must have been quite a - "

"Good judge of character," I finished for her.

The timing was perfect. Just as Wendy was about to respond and almost
certainly piss me off, Ted and Rebecca inserted themselves back into the
conversation. Ted began to speak.

"So, Leo, Rebecca tells me that you're a private investigator."

"It pays the bills."

Wendy couldn't resist. "If it paid a few more, he could make an honest
woman out of Rebecca here," she explained to Ed/Ted.

I could see Duvall's temple veins throbbing.

She smiled, sweetly. "I think, therefore I'm single," she said. At
that moment, Maureen Hennesey, with all of the usual manic effervescence that
made her the chairperson of every committee in the city, lunged out of the back
room.

"Bettina's reading everyone's cards on the back porch. You all have to
come." Grabbing Wendy and Ted or Ed by the elbows, she herded them toward
the back of the house. Rebecca and I appeared to trail along.

The minute Maureen and her prisoners rounded the corner in front of us, we
made our escape. Great minds do think alike.

"I'm outta here, Waterman," Duvall announced.

"Me too. I'll walk you to your car."

Rebecca, with her usual sense of good timing, waited until we were outside
to talk business.

"The Times made arrangements for Buddy. Seems it was part of his
recruitment package," she said as I opened the door for her. "They
picked him up yesterday. Funeral Tuesday, at ten o'clock at McLannahans."

"Screw the police department," said Jed James.

"In my past experience, it usually works the other way around,
Jed."

"You haven't been served with a warrant, right?'

"Nope. I don't know what's waiting back at my place. I haven't been
home in a few days. I'm over at - "

"No. Don't tell me," he snapped. "Under the circumstances,
it's best I don't know where you are."

"They want me for - "

"Screw ‘em," he repeated. "You've got a right to be anywhere
you want to be. They've got nothing to say about when you go home and when you
don't. Until such time as you're officially notified that you're wanted for
questioning, you don't owe them a thing."

"Rumor has it that the TPD is looking for me pretty hard."

"Indubitably," he said quickly. "They called here Friday
looking for a line on you. I had a few messages on your machine. I, of course,
as an officer of the court, cooperated fully."

"Of course."

He switched gears. "I've still got that matter I needed - "

"Sorry. I've got too many loose ends right now, Jed."

"So it seems, Leo." He hesitated. "You've got all of my
numbers, right? The office, the car, my home number. You got all of them?"

"Yup."

"If and when the Gestapo catches up with you, call me, day or night,
and I'll come to the rescue."

"Will do."

"Remember, no statements. Just make your call."

"I'll remember."

"Later." We hung up simultaneously.

I was camped out on Arnie's back porch. Yesterday's card-reading room was
Arnie's version of a home office. Probably a tax dodge.

Arnie had left early to take Bettina to the airport. I'd promised to lock
up. I called Hector.

"Hector, it's Leo."

"Steel at large, eh?" He giggled maniacally. "Bueno, Leo,
bueno."

"How's things around the ranch, Hector?"

"Jew was right, Leo. Dey was plenty pissed off about de car."

"I figured."

"Dey been comin back once a day to check for you. Yesterday, dey wanted
to know eef I remembered eef de car had an antenna or no."

"What did you say?"

"My eeenglish no so goood, Leo. Jew know how I mean? ‘Antenna? What ees
dis antenna?' " He cackled wildly.

"You been watering Mrs. Gunderson's plants?"

"Got eet covered, Leo."

"See you soon."

"Not eef I see you first." He was still laughing when I hung up.

Next, I called Charles Hayden at the number Wendy had given me. Mr. Hayden
was in conference. As much as it pained me, I had to use Wendy's name to get
through. He was not pleased.

"What?" he demanded, without benefit of an introduction. "Let
me guess, she's got a new lawyer. I don't know what she told you, buddy, but if
you're working this on a percentage, you're in deep shit. They already picked
me clean."

"I'm not an attorney, just a friend," I said, hoping to show him
down.

"Wendy doesn't have any friends, only victims."

"An old friend."

"What was that name again?"

"Waterman. Leo Waterman." The line was silent.

"Are you that investigator she knows from high school?"

"The very same," I answered.

He growled into my ear, "Let me guess, I'll bet this is choice, she's
hired you to - "

"I'm not working for Wendy," I interrupted again. More silence.

"Sorry," he finally said. "I guess I get a little overwrought
whenever that woman's name is mentioned. I didn't mean to - Anyway, what can I
do for you, Mr. Waterman?"

I told him the story. I kept it vague. He listened, interrupting me only
twice for clarification.

"Have you personally been to any of these sites on the maps?"

"This afternoon," I said. He tried hard to convince me not to go,
but I kept talking. Later in my story, he broke in again.

"Do you know precisely what it is that they're dumping?" he asked.

"All I'm sure of is that it's worth killing over."

He mulled this over. I was hoping he'd take me seriously. It was worse than
that. He seemed genuinely concerned.

"Bring the maps on down here, Mr. Waterman. We'll handle it from -
"

"No. This is something I've got to do."

"Listen, Waterman. If you don't cooperate, I can have a team of U.S.
marshals - "

"You and your marshals need probably cause, don't you?"

"So?"

"Probable cause takes too much time. My guess is that whatever is going
on is about to cease, at least temporarily."

"Why's that?"

I told him of my encounter with the guards at the depot. He sighed.

"What makes you think they're going to stop?"

"They were nervous already. Nervous enough to kill people," I added.
"Saturday night's little encounter will probably push them over the edge.
My bet is they'll go to ground."

"You may be right," he admitted. Lowering his voice. "Maybe
it would be best if you could get us something solid first. With the fucking
red tape the way it is around here, maybe . . . " He trailed off.

"Call me first," he said finally. "Not the police. We don't
want them mucking about in anything toxic either. Call me." He rattled off
a string of numbers where he could be reached. I wrote the numbers down.

"I need something from your end," I said.

"What's that?" He didn't like the sound of this.

"Can you check recent water samples from that whole section of
Snohomish County?"

"Easy."

"Do it."

"Why?"

"Just might give you part of the probably cause you need."

"All right. I'll start on it as soon as I get off the phone."

He lowered his voice. "Listen, Mr. Waterman, get us something solid
here. This is a governmental agency. I don't know how much attention you pay to
politics, but the last couple of administrations have not been wildly
supportive of our efforts. They've tied our hands in ways you wouldn't believe.
These days, we need a smoking gun before we can actually do anything. Unless we
actually catch somebody with his dick out, our hands are tied. Suspicions won't
do it. By the time we're allowed to take action, the damage is long since
done."

"I understand," I said.

"And, Mr. Waterman - "

"Yes?"

"Two things."

"Go ahead."

"One, stay away from whatever it is you find. If it's serious enough to
kill over, it probably has negative long-range health consequences. Don't touch
it; don't breathe it; stay away from it."

"I understand." Silence. "And two?"

"You're about to disappear from today's phone log. We never had this
conversation." He hung up.

I went looking for the boys. Not at the rooming house. Not at the Zoo. They
hadn't been seen at the Zoo for a couple of days. I headed downtown.

It didn't take long. On my first pass, I spotted George lounging in the
doorway of a furniture warehouse three doors down from Save the Earth. He had
the door open before the truck had come to a complete stop. His eyes were
clear. He smelled of bay rum.

"Jesus, Leo. Where you been?" he demanded.

"Laying low, George."

"No shit," he said grimly. "I sent Ralph up to your place to
look for you yesterday morning and the cops nabbed him. Questioned him for an
hour before they finally let him go."

"He's okay, I hope."

"Yeah," George smiled. "Good thing it was Ralph. If he did
know anything, he probably forgot." The smile widened. "He went into
Harold's seizure act; did it almost as good. Scared the shit out of them. They
drove him all the way home. Even walked him upstairs." Before I could
comment, he continued. "There's something going on, Leo. Something big."

"What makes you say that?"

"Lots of activity around the building. They didn't panhandle at all
this weekend. Every night a whole bunch of them have been getting dressed up in
dark clothes and going out."

"How many's a whole bunch?" I asked.

"Four. Five. Caroline's been going with them."

"Interesting. Any idea what they're up to?"

"Whatever it is, it takes gasoline."

"How's that? They been driving a lot?"

"Nope. They been buying gas cans at every surplus store downtown."

Now I was worried. Two deaths later, I was finally getting into what Tim
Flood had hired me to do, and I didn't have time for it. Whatever they were up
to would have to wait.

First thing this morning, I'd called Daniel Dixon and made arrangements to
pick him up at the Last Stand at one o'clock. Maybe I should have let Charles
Hayden and the EPA handle the map work. Maybe . . .

George bailed me out. "We got it covered, Leo. By tomorrow, we'll know
where they're going every night." A shiver ran down my spine.

"I want you guys out of it, George. We don't' need another
killing."

"Too late, Leo. There's too many guys involved now."

"What guys? Harold and Ralph - "

George stopped me. "All the guys. We've got all the street people
mobilized. They heard about Buddy and want to help. He hesitated. "Which
reminds me, we need some more money. Me and Harold and Ralph already gave away
all the cash you gave us - " He stopped again. "Buddy's share
too," he said quietly. "We need more money." He held up both
hands. Scout's honor. "Believe me, Leo, ain't nobody spending it on booze,
but folks gotta eat, especially when they ain't drinking. Lots of bus fare
too."

"Tell me about it."

"We followed ‘em the first night as far as up to the market."

"On foot/"

"We only had twelve guys the first night."

"Only twelve? How many have you got now?"

"If you count Mary and Earlene, thirty-seven."

"Thirty-seven? Who in hell told you to go out and hire thirty-seven -
" George reached for the door handle.

"It ain't about you no more, Leo. It's about Buddy." He eyed me
levelly. "Keep your money, Leo. We don't need it." He started to get
out. I stopped him.

"Okay, okay, tell me the rest of it." He left the door open.