“Yes, sir,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”
He shook Stahl’s hand. “Dick,” he said, “I’ve been watching for you.” He glanced at Diane again. “Sergeant, would you mind if I borrowed him for just a few moments?”
“Of course not, sir. I see a couple of bomb techs over there that I missed.” She stepped off toward Elliot, who had just turned away from the grave.
Stahl walked with Ogden. “What’s up, Dave?”
“There’s no reason for you to come with me. It’s just me asking a friend for another favor.”
“What’s the favor?” Stahl asked.
“That black limo over there idling in the drive is the mayor’s.”
“It looks a lot like the hearse.”
“Your lips to God’s ear. Will you talk to him?”
Stahl slowed down for a moment, then stopped. “I don’t see much point in that.”
“I said it was a favor.” Ogden said. “If it was something you’d do anyway, it wouldn’t be a favor.”
Stahl nodded. “All right.”
Ogden conducted Stahl to the side of the road and up to the rear door of the limousine. He opened the door so Stahl had to duck inside, and then followed him in. Two rows of seats faced each other in the black interior. On one side sat the police chief and the mayor. On the other were Ogden and Stahl.
Stahl said, “Hello, Chief. Mr. Mayor.”
“Good to see you, Dick.” The chief smiled and spoke to Stahl, but the mayor was silent. The chief went on. “I hope you’re well.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I just wish Carmody and the others were.”
The mayor seemed to feel insulted, and he sighed impatiently. “I have to tell you, Mr. Stahl, that the chief talked me into waiting around to hear what you have to say. I wasn’t eager.”
“I wasn’t either,” said Stahl. “And I’m not sure what you’ve waited to hear me say.”
“I’m here because I’ve been told repeatedly by these gentlemen that you have incontrovertible alibis and other evidence to prove you couldn’t have had any fault in anything that’s happened. After some discussion I agreed to accept that.”
“Sir—” Ogden said.
The mayor said, “Let me talk. I’ve been told repeatedly that there are only two men who understand those bombs—you, and the bomber. And now that you’ve got free time, the pace seems to have accelerated.”
“Interesting observation,” said Stahl. “I have a business that keeps me busy most of the time, and I’ve had to ignore it for a while. Now I’m catching up with the work.”
The chief said, “Mr. Mayor, we asked you to meet Mr. Stahl because we’re desperate. We just buried an experienced and very competent bomb team supervisor, and there are two bomb technicians who will be hospitalized for a long time, and may never be able to serve again. It’s our considered judgment that Mr. Stahl is our best chance to defeat this bomber, and to ensure we don’t lose anyone else before then. The city is in terrible danger as long as the bomber is at work.”
The mayor smirked. “What do you think, Mr. Stahl? Are you the only one who can save us?”
“No,” said Stahl. “Nobody is the only one.”
“But you think you’re one of the few who can.”
“It’s a question of doing your best to outlive a bomber. You try to avoid the traps he sets, and to destroy the substances that power them without making a mistake and getting killed. The longer you do that, the more likely he’ll make the first mistake with the explosives, or he’ll be seen, identified, and arrested.”
“Are you saying these men would be alive if you had still been there to supervise them?”
“I would have ordered them to take fewer chances.”
The mayor looked triumphant. “You do think so, don’t you?”
Stahl stared into the mayor’s eyes. “I do.”
The chief said, “Sir, maybe this isn’t the—”
“And you think it’s my fault.”
Stahl said, “I managed to get myself in trouble by breaking a police regulation. I did that by myself. I’m willing to help with the bombings, and I’ll do it free.”
The chief said, “Mr. Mayor, we have an assurance from the police commission that they’ll approve an agreement to have Mr. Stahl work with us as a civilian consultant.”
“You know I’m aware of that idea,” said the mayor. “I can’t appear to be providing a way for city employees to get around rules, and especially laws. The appearance of wrongdoing is as bad as wrongdoing.”
“With respect, I don’t think it is,” said the chief. “Having him with us is almost sure to save the lives of police officers and civilians.”
The mayor said, “I didn’t mean as bad for you. I meant as bad for good government and the future of the city. I’m an elected official, and any future opponent would bring this up for the next thirty years. I’ve listened. Now I’ve got to get back to city hall and do my job.”
Stahl got out, and so did the chief and deputy chief. The black limousine drove off toward the road that led down the hill to Forest Lawn Drive and the 101 Freeway.
The chief said, “Damn.”
“Sorry, Dick,” said Ogden. “Thanks for giving it a try with us.”
The chief shook Stahl’s hand. “Something may work out yet. I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t leave town on some long business assignment without telling us.”
“I won’t,” he said. He turned and walked back along the row of graves to the spot where Hines was talking to Elliot and a few others. When he got there, he could see the others were watching him for some hint of what had gone on in the mayor’s limousine. He said to Hines, “Ready?”
“Sure.”
Before they left, he said, “Take care of each other, guys. Use Andros and explode any devices from a distance. Stay alive.”
As they walked to the place where Stahl had parked his car, the sun was almost below the hills to the west, and the sky was reaching its most fiery red-orange. Hines looked back toward the section they had just left, and she could see the cemetery crew pushing the dirt into the grave.
42
On the drive away from the cemetery they didn’t speak much. Stahl drove west, but instead of turning south toward the west side where they lived, he took Barham to Ventura Boulevard into Studio City. He turned into the plaza just before Laurel Canyon and parked. The sky was dark now, the deep indigo that lingered in the west during early evening in the Valley. She looked up at him. “Du-Par’s?”
He shrugged. “Funerals make me feel hungry. I think it’s probably the body trying to fight back, to be alive.”
They walked in the front door. Anyone who stepped through the glass doors could see the place had a long history. Its fiftieth anniversary cups were now almost antiques. There were old photographs framed and hanging on the wall that proved the layout had reached approximately its current configuration sometime in the 1950s, and the more recent remodeling had only added a half room that looked like the other one. The simplicity of the diner hid the fact that deals to launch big-budget movies had been make over breakfast at the big table in the back, and it was still an easy place to spot stars. Du-Par’s was always open.
Hines stepped in ahead of Stahl and picked a booth. “I’ve been here on three Thanksgivings. All the older cops got the dinner hours off on big holidays. My partner and I had turkey here.”
Stahl said, “I used to come here when I was assigned to North Hollywood too. I don’t think I was ever here on Thanksgiving. It didn’t matter when I was here, though. I always ordered pancakes.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Those are good. Are you going to order some now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think about it,” she said.
“Why?”
“I’m pretty sure you’ll give me a taste.”