THE BANDIT QUEEN - Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Walt Rogers paced the narrow confines of his motel room and smacked the wall with the flat of his hand before he turned to face the opposite direction. He carried his cell phone in his other hand and cursed it with each smack on the wall. When it finally rang, he almost dropped it in his haste to answer it.
“Talk.”
Walt nodded his head as he listened to the calm voice in his ear telling him that the two young people had disappeared in San Francisco. No one had seen them since they’d gotten off the bus from Los Angeles. “Throw a net around the other people he could be looking for. Any news of the Allen woman? Was she seen at the airport? Is her car missing? Where is her husband? What? What? What?”
“Now, Walt, just slow down a minute. You know I’ll get to everything as soon as I can. No sightings on Dr. Allen. Her car is not in her garage but her husband’s is. Neighbors say he has been in Hong Kong for several weeks on some big construction project. He’s not expected home for months. I’ll contact his company and find out if his wife told him where she was going. I already put her car out as a stolen vehicle. In the meantime, I have men checking parking lots at all the airports for miles around. We’ll hear from that sometime. Who shall I send to Chicago or Los Alamos or Arizona? I could just alert security at Los Alamos and let them watch for her or the kids. What do you think?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good enough for Los Alamos. Just make sure they know it’s a national security issue. Send Ray and Wendy to Arizona. That’s a small town and I want them to keep a low profile. Who’s available for Chicago?”
“Sven’s in Detroit on another problem and Harris is in New York City. Either one of them could be routed to Chicago.”
“Send them both. Brief them thoroughly and make sure they’re looking for any of these people, okay? I’ll be waiting here for another few hours. Then I may go back to LA and take Dr. Evan Phillips to pieces. The boy has to have talked to him or gotten a message to him somehow. Keep me posted.”
Walt savagely punched the button on his phone and shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. He paced around the room a few more times and then dropped on the bed. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling for almost thirty minutes. When he finally clambered to his feet, the lines of anger had left his face. He rotated his shoulders to release the tension in his back and neck. He smiled a small secret smile and walked out the door to his car.

Walt Rogers pulled up to the UCLA campus and checked in with the security guards for the second time. This time the guards were not as helpful as before and refused to talk with him until the head of the security staff could be located. Walt flashed his credentials to no avail and waited in seething anger until a calm man with gray hair and penetrating eyes entered the room. The man wore a well-cut dark gray suit and expensive shoes.
“Bradley Watson, head of security for this campus. What can I do for you, Agent Rogers?”
“You can damn well help me with my interrogation of Dr. Phillips, that’s what you can do for me. I’ve been waiting here for thirty minutes and I demand that you bring the man to me.”
“Demand all you want, Mr. Rogers, but until I have authorization from your department, you don’t operate on this campus. Dr. Phillips has filed a complaint with the local office of the FBI and with the Attorney-General of the state of California. Our university attorneys have advised us that we are not to assist you in any way until these claims and any others filed by our employees are settled.”
“Goddammit, man, this is a national security issue. You don’t know what you’re messing with here or who you’re messing with. I am on a job with the highest priority and when I ask for help, you’re supposed to give it to me.”
“Well, if it is the highest priority, then your office should get in touch with our attorneys very soon. Until that happens, you might as well have a seat and wait because you aren’t entering our campus with the intention of interrogating Dr. Phillips or any one else.”
Bradley Watson rested a hip on the corner of the watch commander’s desk and offered Walt a wooden chair in front of the desk. Walt rejected the chair and stalked to the window in the far wall of the office. He jerked his cell phone out of his pocket and angrily punched in the number for his contact, Tom Adams. The impersonal tones of a machine asked him to leave a message. He growled his name in the phone and then punched in the number for his lieutenant, Art Johnson. When he was forced to leave a message yet again, he almost threw his phone through the window. He stopped himself just before he let go of it and set it on the desk with deliberate slowness. He glanced quickly into Bradley Watson’s face and was almost positive he’d just missed a smile. Well, it wouldn’t be long before he’d show this pissant who was important and who wasn’t.
Walt smiled grimly at the men surrounding him and forced himself to sit calmly in the chair in front of the desk. After he finished this job for Clark Duncan, he’d do a little investigating and screw up the life of the man sitting across the desk from him. Walt glanced again at the calm face and recognized a hint of authority he’d missed when he first met the man. Bradley Watson was definitely not a retired city cop as he’d first assumed. When Tom Adams or Art Johnson returned his calls, he would drop Watson’s name into the conversation and wait for a reaction.
Walt was seriously angry when his cell phone finally rang about forty-five minutes later. He never even had a chance to detail the situation before Tom cut him off.
“Shut up, Walt. Don’t say another word. The shit has hit the fan here in the office. Duncan is frothing at the mouth and swearing to everyone that he told you not to make any waves. Just back away from that university and apologize for bothering them. Do it now. I’ll call you back in thirty minutes.”
A click sounded very loud in Walt’s ear. He thoughtfully slid the phone into his jacket pocket and smiled tightly at the head of security. “Well, I guess that’s that. I’ll be back when all this is sorted out. My office will make an appointment with Dr. Phillips and his attorneys and we’ll thrash this all out then. Sorry to have bothered you.”
Walt reached across the desk and touched the Bradley’s hand. Then he walked steadily out the door and drove away from the campus. He pulled into the parking lot of a large shopping center and waited impatiently for Tom’s call. After thirty minutes had passed, Walt was banging on his steering wheel again and talking to himself. He held the phone out in front of his face and mentally willed it to ring. When he finally tossed it onto the seat in resignation, it rang. He grabbed it up and barked his name.
Tom Adams’ voice grated in his ear. “Don’t snarl at me, you asshole. I don’t know what you did at that campus but you sure ruffled a lot of feathers. You are not to speak with Dr. Phillips again, ever. If he needs to be questioned for any reason, someone else will be sent. I don’t want to hear what you did or didn’t do. It doesn’t matter at all. The word from the top is that you are ‘persona non grata’ out there so do your investigating somewhere else. Clark has also sent word that there are to be no retaliations against anyone at the University. Do you understand? You must have really hit a nerve or messed in someone else’s investigation. Back off and go somewhere else.”
“Goddammit, Tom, you know what it means when we get this severe a reaction. They’re covering up something and we need to find out what it is.”
“No, Walt, ‘we’ do not. Someone else might work on it but not you.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“No, I don’t. Obviously, I didn’t need to know. It must be part of a different investigation that’s more important. What’s next for you, Walt?”
“Oh, hell, Chicago, I guess. I have a feeling that’s where one of my professors has gone. I’ll call you when I get there. Sven and Harris will meet me there. Is there anything about the University of Chicago I should know?”
“Yes, a lot of their professors have security clearances so they do lots of work for the government. No threats and no weapons and no violence.”
“How the hell am I supposed to find out anything if I can’t even ask a question?”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t ask. I just said you couldn’t hold a loaded gun in your hand when you asked.”
Walt stabbed the button to cut off his phone without saying another word. Then he called Art and left him another message. He needed a flight to Chicago and he needed it this afternoon. He drove directly to the airport and stepped into a bar to wait for Art to return his call. Two scotches later, his cell phone rang. Somehow, he wasn’t very surprised when Art told him his flight didn’t leave for another two hours.
A woman slid onto the stool next to him and bumped slightly into his shoulder as she set her purse on the bar. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bang into you.”
She smiled at him and ordered a glass of wine from the bartender. She ran her finger lightly around the rim of the wine glass and stared into the red liquid inside. She pushed her shoulder length brown hair behind her ear with her right hand and drank some of the wine. A loud commercial caught her attention and she watched the small television screen while she sipped her wine. Walt watched her from the corner of his eyes and noticed the flashing rings on her hands and the glitter of her earrings. As near as Walt could tell, she was skating very close to her fortieth birthday. Her dress and shoes looked fairly expensive. Hell, he had two hours to kill before his flight. What would it hurt to talk for a while with a pretty woman?
Walt waited for the woman to drink more of her wine before he waved to the bartender. He ordered another scotch and then asked the woman if he could buy her another glass of wine. She looked him squarely in the face for the first time and narrowed her eyes in concentration. Then she smiled widely and pushed her glass toward the bartender.
“I’m Alison Brown and like everyone else around here, I’m waiting for a flight.”
“Walt Ralston. My flight leaves in two hours. How about yours?”
Just as Alison opened her mouth to answer, Walt’s phone rang. He grabbed it and answered it. He turned his head away from Alison and listened intently to the voice of his assistant Art. When he finished, he set the phone on the bar with a smile and faced Alison again.
She waited until she had his attention and then she answered his question. “Well, Mr. Walt Ralston, I have a two-hour wait also.” She turned on her stool to face him and carried her glass to her mouth. She watched him over the rim of the glass as he took a hefty slug of scotch and water. “Where are you headed? I’m on my way to Dallas. Will you be back in LA in about a week? Maybe I could buy you a drink since you bought me one.”
“Oh, I don’t live here, just passing through on business. I’m on my way to Chicago and I don’t know where I’ll be after that. What are you doing in Dallas? Don’t tell me you have ‘business’ there?”
She gurgled a low laugh and playfully touched his arm. She finished the wine in her glass and pushed it toward the bartender. “Now, what makes you think I’m not a business woman? I have my own business here in LA. I’m an interior designer. I’m on my way to Dallas to consult with a client and also to find new product sources for my more ‘western clients.’ Let me give you one of my cards and maybe you could call me when you’re back in LA.”
Alison picked up her small purse and reached inside for a business card. When the bartender set down another glass of wine, she motioned toward Walt’s glass and slid a ten-dollar bill across the bar. She pulled out her cell phone and finally slid out an ornately printed card. She handed the card to Walt just as the bartender slid another scotch and water in front of him. Alison picked up her phone and slid it into the small purse. Walt stared at the small card and smiled at it before he slid it into his jacket pocket. Then he noticed his cell phone on the bar next to a fresh drink so he slid it into his pocket also. He picked up his drink and held it out to Alison.
“Here’s to a new ‘friendship’!”
She touched his glass with her wine glass and drank a sip. “What kind of business are you in, Mr. Walt Ralston?”
“Um, I do confidential audits for businesses. You know, for takeovers or buy-outs. I also do background checks on employees. Some companies want some kind of audit before they sign big contracts with other companies, just to make sure these other companies can deliver. I travel all over the world.”
A loud announcement blared through the terminal and Alison cocked her ear. “They’re calling my flight. It’s been nice visiting with you, Walt. Please give me a call if you’re ever back in LA.” She held out her hand and shook his hand before she carefully slid off the stool and walked down to her gate. Walt stared down into his drink and wondered what would have happened if they hadn’t met in an airport. He shook his head and tossed down his drink.
Walt’s flight was called in the next couple of minutes, so he left the bar and joined the line of travelers funneling into the small door of the airplane. He settled into his seat and ignored the people sitting around him. As soon as he could, he tipped his seat back and closed his eyes. Behind his blank face, his mind replayed the events of the last few days. He tried to remember everything he’d seen and heard and then made tentative plans for his arrival in Chicago.
Walt was almost the first person off the plane and hurried through the long tunnel with extra long strides. He scanned the faces of the people in the terminal, recognized no one, and then slipped his phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open, and punched in the speed dial number for Tom Adams. Nothing happened. He shook the phone, punched the numbers again, and scowled when he heard silence. He angrily stabbed at the tiny buttons with his forefinger and pulled up the screen of speed dial numbers. It was totally blank. Now, Walt really stared at the small receiver in his left hand. Unconsciously, he weighed it and accepted its size as correct. He shook his head at the small phone and wondered fleetingly if it was time for a new one. This time he punched in Tom’s entire phone number and heard the ringing sound in his ear. A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he listened to Tom’s directions. Within minutes a well-dressed woman in her mid-thirties was driving him away from the airport and into the huge city in search of more answers. This time he would be the soul of politeness when he questioned Marianne Wolfe, excuse me, Dr. Marianne Wolfe. Walt growled slightly under his breath. These over-educated intellectuals were either the hardest ones to deal with or the easiest. He’d already hit a couple of hard ones. Maybe this one would be an easy one.


Alison Brown swayed out of the airport bar and turned to her left. She kept to the same slow rhythm until she judged it safe to hurry. Her legs took longer and longer strides as she slid between and around slower moving traffic. She glanced up at the rows of lighted signs signifying everything from bars to shops to bathrooms and counted off the bathrooms as she passed them. She ducked into the fourth one she came to and joined the short line of patiently waiting women and children. The young woman in front of her slightly turned her head and looked down at the shiny black high heels on Alison’s feet. Then she glanced at her face and nodded. Alison looked into the black eyes of the woman and then saw the small gold tooth at the very edge of her smile. Contact made and acknowledged. Within a very few minutes, Alison had turned over Mr. Walt Ralston’s cell phone and dropped the word “Chicago” into the smooth brown ear of the young woman in line. She changed clothes in the stall and left the bathroom looking far different from the woman who’d shared a few minutes with a strange man in a bar. Jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers will change the looks of any woman, no matter her age, size, or coloring. Alison attached herself to a family group heading for the baggage area and drifted out of the terminal without seeing or being seen by Walt Ralston.