State of Fear

"Where did you see pictures?"

 

"In a magazine. They were at a tennis tournament. She's a championship tennis player, something like that?"

 

"I guess."

 

"I would have thought that since you spent so much time with Morton, you'd know her well."

 

"Not really," he said, shrugging. "I mean, we've spent a little time in the last few days."

 

"Uh-huh." She looked at him, amused. "Peter," she said. "I don't care. She's very pretty. It's only natural."

 

"No, no," he said, reaching for the phone. "It's nothing like that." Desperate to put an end to this conversation, he dialed the Beverly Hills police and asked for Detective Perry. The detective was not yet back from court. Evans left a message and hung up. He turned to Jennifer. "How does it work if they issue a warrant for your arrest?"

 

"Criminal," she said. "Not my area. Sorry."

 

"Me neither."

 

"Somebody going to arrest you?"

 

"I hope not."

 

Then Lisa, Herb Lowenstein's chatty assistant, called. "Hi, Peter. I have the numbers for Mr. Bradley and for the San Francisco morgue. They close at eight. Can you make it by then? Herb wants to know. He's very upset."

 

"About what?"

 

"I've never seen him this way. I mean, not for a few weeks."

 

"What's the matter?"

 

"I think he's upset about George. Such a shock. And then Drake is giving him fits. He must have called five times today. And I think they were discussing you."

 

"Me?"

 

"Yes." Lisa lowered her voice, taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Herb had his door closed while he was talking, but I, uh, I heard a few things."

 

"Like what?" Evans said.

 

"Don't say anything."

 

"I won't."

 

"I mean I wasn't--I just thought that you would want to know."

 

"I do."

 

"Because there's a lot of talk here," she said, dropping her voice even lower, "about whether you have to leave."

 

"Leave the firm?"

 

"Be, uh, let go. I thought you would want to know."

 

"I do. Thanks. Who's talking?"

 

"Well, Herb. And Don Blandings, and a couple of other senior partners. Bob and Louise. Because for some reason Nick Drake is furious with you. And somebody you are spending time with, a person named Kanner or Connor?"

 

"I see."

 

"Mr. Drake is very upset about Mr. Connor."

 

"Why is that?"

 

"He says he is a spy. For industry. Forpolluters. "

 

"I see."

 

"Anyway, the feeling is Mr. Drake is an important client and you've pissed him off. Even so, they would never dare fire you if Morton were alive. But he's not, anymore. And you're gone all the time. And the police are calling here for you, which I have to tell you isnot good. It makes everybody nervous. And then they--what are you doing with this Mr. Connor, anyway?"

 

"It's a long story."

 

"Peter. I toldyou. " She sounded sulky. He knew he would have to trade information.

 

"Okay," he said, trying to sound reluctant. "I'm carrying out an assignment that Morton gave me, before he died."

 

"Really? What is it?"

 

"It's a secret, I can't tell you yet."

 

"George Morton gave you an assignment?"

 

"In writing," he said. Thinking: That will cool their jets.

 

"Wow. Really. They don't dare fire you if you're on the business of the firm."

 

"Lisa, I have to go."

 

"And if they did, you would havesuch a wrongful termination action."

 

"Lisa..."

 

"Okay, okay. I know you can't talk. But just...good luck!"

 

He hung up. Jennifer was smiling. "That was very skillfully done," she said.

 

"Thank you."

 

But he wasn't smiling back. As far as he was concerned, the world was closing in around him. It didn't feel good. And he was still very, very tired.

 

He called Sarah to arrange for the plane, but got her voice mail. He called the pilot and was told that he was in the air.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"He's flying, right now."

 

"Where?"

 

"I can't tell you that, sir. Would you like his voice mail?"

 

"No," Evans said. "I need to charter a plane."

 

"When would you like it?"

 

"In half an hour. To go to San Francisco, with a stop at whatever the airport is nearest Sequoia. Returning tonight."

 

"I'll see what I can do."

 

And then fatigue overcame him. He pulled over to the side of the road and got out of the car.

 

Jennifer said, "What's the matter?"

 

"You know the way to Van Nuys?"

 

"Sure."

 

"Then you drive."

 

He dropped into the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt. He watched her pull into traffic, and then closed his eyes and slept.

 

 

 

 

 

SEQUOIA

 

 

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 12

 

4:30 P. M.

 

The forest floor was dark and cool. Shafts of sunlight filtered down from the magnificent trees rising all around them. The air smelled of pine. The ground was soft underfoot.