Page 80 of Fade Out
“I agree with you. The police won’t.”
“You think something happened to him, don’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hospitals. We should call hospitals.”
“Maybe he went to see Ross,” Terry suggested.
“I should call the nurse’s station,” Franklin said. He went looking for the cordless phone which was somehow never on its base.
“We should probably go through his address book. Check to see who else we should call,” I said.
“Found it,” Franklin said, holding up the phone. He dialed the hospital’s number from memory. “Hi, I’m wondering if anyone has seen Brian Peerson around. He’d be visiting Ross Buckley.”
I started looking for Brian’s address book. I found it in one of the built-in drawers in the china cabinet. The book was from the Art Institute, each page containing a great work of art, mostly French Impressionism, including the really famous one that had been made into a musical.
“Uh-huh. Okay. If you see him tell him to call home. We’re worried about him.” Franklin hung up. “He’s not there.”
“Do you know many of his old friends? He used to hang out with a crowd at Big Nell’s,” I said, holding out the address book.
Franklin took it and stared at it. “No, I don’t think he sees any of those people. Not anymore.”
“He might have walked over to the street fair and run into one of them.”
Franklin shook his head. That didn’t sound any more plausible to him than it had to me. “Something bad has happened. I know it.”
“Don’t assume that. There could be a very logical explanation,” I said, but what I felt was dread. Something had happened to Brian and I didn’t know what. “He’s not sick at all, is he?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he couldn’t have passed out, had a seizure, taken a bad fall?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, he would have told me. I would have noticed. I’d know.”
Then something hit me. “He could have been arrested.”
“Do you think so?” Franklin asked. “Why?”
“I don’t know. But let’s call Town Hall Station.”
Chapter Eighteen
Just as Iwas about to dial the phone, my beeper went off. It said: 819. I had no idea what that meant. Was it a wrong number? A misdial? That had never happened before, but I guess it could. Then I realized I had the damn thing upside down. What it really said was 618.
I knew what that meant. The page was from Rita. 618 North Wells. That’s where she was. That’s where Brian was. That was bad. That wasreallybad. It was something I hadn’t let myself think about; but—if I was honest—it had been at the back of my mind from the moment Brian couldn’t be found.
Why did she have to take Brian? I would have gone if she’d just sent—no, I wouldn’t have. Well, not alone. I’d have gone with the police just like I had that morning. That was easy enough to figure out. She wanted me, needed me, to come alone. And she knew if she had someone I cared about I wouldn’t involve the police.
Was she right? Should I call the police anyway? A murderous pair with a hostage was exactly what they were there for. And if I had even the slightest bit of confidence in the CPD, I might have. But I didn’t. All I could imagine were a hundred scenarios where everything went wrong and Brian ended up dead. As nearly as I could tell Brian’s chances were a whole lot better if I went on my own.
I had to leave. I had to get there. And I couldn’t tell Franklin where I was going. Of course, I didn’t have a weapon. Thank you, CPD. Given that they’d likely be dropping the charges I could probably have gotten my guns back within the week, but that was no help. There wasn’t any time limit on Rita’s ‘invitation,’ but I was sure a week was too long.
I didn’t know anyone with a gun. Brian certainly didn’t have one. And Franklin, well, no. I went into the kitchen and opened a couple of drawers looking for a knife. There were two big ones, roughly ten inches long and three inches thick. They would do the job, but how exactly could I carry them around? And how did I walk up to Rita with a knife I couldn’t hide and get her to give me Brian? Instead, I selected a boning knife and a paring knife. I could manage to hide both in my clothing.
What else did I need?The unfinished building was at least twenty stories. I had no interest in climbing it, but I might have to. All I had were my Reeboks. I wondered if I should go back to my apartment and get an old pair of Nikes, but decided against it. I went into the bedroom and put on the disgusting jacket to the tuxedo, then I put one knife into a side pocket and the other, the longer one, into the inside breast pocket.
I looked up from what I was doing and noticed Franklin standing in the doorway, He asked, “Where are you going?”
