A Killing in China Basin

THIRTY-TWO


Stoltz walked slowly through the Getty Museum with his mother gripping his elbow and her perfume enveloping them. He hated the smell of it and this controlling act of hers.

‘I like this painting,’ she said, ‘but I’m sure you don’t.’

She couldn’t be more right.

‘You’re upset, Cody. You’re worried about the police, aren’t you?’

‘The police have no one else, so in their knee-jerk way they’re focused on me. What am I supposed to do with that?’

‘You don’t have to do anything with it. Just let it be. The police aren’t stupid. They’re not the brightest men in the world, but they work through things eventually. All you have to do is wait until they figure out their mistake. They will.’

She smiled her little girl smile, senility’s breathless first dance. Then she surprised him.

‘But I am disturbed by how quickly the police came to talk to you after that police inspector was killed. Why did they come to you so fast? Did you write more letters?’

‘No.’

‘Have you had any contact with any of them?’

‘None.’

They looked at more paintings then ate lunch at the museum. At the table she reached across and took his hand.

‘I want you to come to Mexico with me. If you’re out of the country and something happens again, they won’t look your way any more. That’ll end it. I’ll have Rosalie make you a plane reservation and you can continue on with me tomorrow.’

‘Because of work I can’t do that.’

‘What do you have to do that can’t wait?’

‘Without me, the project I’m on stalls.’

‘I really believe you should change your plans.’

‘I wish I could.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t believe that, and I’m going to say it again, I want you to come to Mexico.’

‘Like I said, I wish I could.’

She stared and he looked for the waiter. Then he pulled out his phone and checked his email. He glanced up, smiled and said, ‘Next time, we’ll go together.’