Goodbye California - Alistair [41]
‘Odd. This bit about not getting wet feet. About once a year since the turn of the century some people in this State have been confidently expecting the second flood. Cranks, of course.’
‘Cranks and highly organized criminals like this Morro or whoever don’t go together?’
‘They’re not mutually exclusive either.’
‘Does the FBI have their names?’
‘Of course. Thousands of them.’
‘Forget it. If you were to lock up all the nonconformists in this State you’d have half the population behind bars.’
‘And maybe the wrong half at that.’ Dunne was pensive. ‘You mentioned the word “organized”. We do have groups of what you might call organized and successful cranks.’
‘Subversives?’
‘Weirdos. But weirdos who have managed to put it together in an acceptable and comprehensible fashion. Acceptable and comprehensible to them, that is.’
‘Many of those so-called organized groups?’
‘Haven’t seen the list lately. Couple of hundred perhaps.’
‘Just a handful. No stone unturned, is that it?’
‘And no avenue unexplored. I’ll get a list. But that’s not what you’re interested in. This Morro character. Fictitious name, of course. May have disfigurement or damage to hands and right eye. That’s easy. Number four?’
‘Bit more personal, Major.’ Ryder slid a photograph and piece of paper across the table. ‘I want this person taken care of.’
Dunne looked at the photograph with appreciation. ‘Lovely young lady. Obviously no relation of yours, so what’s the connection?’
‘Peggy. My daughter.’
‘Ah!’ Dunne was not an easy man to knock off stride. ‘Mrs Ryder must be a beautiful person.’
‘Well, thank you very much.’ Ryder smiled. ‘She’s a sophomore at San Diego. The address is the flat she shares with three other girls. Tried to phone her – that’s her number there – but no reply. I’m sure one of your men could find out where she is in no time. I’d like her to know what’s happened before she finds out on the radio or TV in some crowded discotheque.’
‘No problem. But that’s not all, is it? You said “taken care of”.’
‘They already have my wife. If Donahure is tied into this – and I’ll know within an hour – Morro and his friends might not like me.’
‘The request is unusual.’
‘So are the circumstances.’ Dunne was hesitating. ‘You have children, Major?’
‘Damnit, yes. I mean, damn you, yes. How old is Peggy?’
‘Eighteen.’
‘So’s my Jane. Blackmail, Sergeant, downright blackmail. All right, all right. But you know I’m supposed to be co-operating closely with Donahure. You’re putting me in a difficult position.’
‘What kind of position do you think I’m in?’ He looked up as pink pantaloons approached their table and looked at Ryder.
‘You Mr Green?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘Caller said a wide man in a dark suit. You’re the only wide man in a dark suit here. Phone’s this way.’
Ryder followed and picked up the phone. ‘Well-built, my lad, not wide. What news?’
‘Raminoff’s been and left. Houseboy drove him. Still bleeding. Gone to some struck-off quack, probably.’
‘Donahure there?’
‘I don’t imagine Raminoff spent five minutes talking to the houseboy.’
‘Meet you at the corner of Fourth and Hawthorne. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen.’
Ryder had arrived back at his table but had not yet sat down when pink pantaloons appeared again. ‘Another call, Mr Green.’
Ryder was back inside a minute. He sat and brought out his flask again.
‘Two calls. The stake-out did in fact report back to Donahure. Going out there in a minute.’ Under Dunne’s puzzled gaze Ryder gulped the contents of his refilled glass. ‘Second call was from John Aaron. You know him?’
‘The Examiner? I know him.’
‘AP and Reuters are burning up the wires. Gentleman called them. You’d never guess the name he gave.’
‘Morro.’
‘Morro it was. Said he’d engineered the San Ruffino break-in of which he was sure they knew nothing about. Gave in specific detail the amount of Uranium Two-Three-Five and plutonium that had been taken, and asked any interested party