mail it to her empty, keep the money, and still claim ignorance. I thought of Snyder’s head on my front seat and imagined that I might end up the same way. Snyder had never even seen the money and they did it to him. Maybe I should just take it and run. With five million I could run far and for a long time. I seriously contemplated several scenarios, but moments later I laughed out loud. I wouldn’t know the first thing about running. They would find me in a week.
I remained in my chair, rocking and staring at the hope chest, knowing that the man who’d been following me and who’d killed Snyder was still out there somewhere. I was paralyzed by images of Snyder and my own grief at having dragged him into it. I thought of calling Liz, but was afraid to drag her in anymore than I already had. The only thing I knew for certain was that I would have to leave my office at some point.
Then the phone rang. It was Detective Wilson.
“I thought you said you didn’t touch anything in that house up in Topanga.” Those were the first words out of his mouth.
“I didn’t.”
“Well, the place was trashed when we got there. You’re sure you weren’t followed there? You sure you left everything piled up in the middle of the room?”
“Yes. I mean I can’t be—” I stopped myself. “Yes. I left everything piled up. No, I can’t be sure I wasn’t followed. All I know is that I didn’t see anyone. But hell, they probably had the copy of the file I made Ed. It wouldn’t take a genius to find it.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t. You seemed to make it up there pretty quick.” I couldn’t tell if Wilson meant it as an insult.
“Do you know if they’re done looking at my place yet?” I asked. “I’d really like to get some sleep.”
“Yeah, they’re done. I got a man outside. You’ll be alright there.”
“So have you arrested anyone yet?” I wanted to know when the streets were safe.
“We talked to Andersen. He denied everything. No surprise there. But we really don’t have any evidence on him, so we had to release him. You’ve gotta do things by the book with a guy like that. Any little mistake and he’ll walk.”
“What about Steele?”
“We don’t know where he is.”
“Gary Rollins?”
“Same thing.” Wilson let out a deep breath. “Look kid, relax. The entire LAPD has been briefed on this. They’re all looking for them. They won’t be able to hide for long. Go home. Get some sleep. You’ll be safe at your place. These guys aren’t going to come near you now. They know the heat’s too high.”
I digested what he was saying. Wilson made noises on the other end of the phone, like he was having trouble talking. Finally, he asked, “Well, you got any idea what someone would be looking for up there? It seems to me they’re not too interested in you. It seems to me they’re looking for something particular.” Wilson was the kind of guy who didn’t like to admit he needed help.
I stared at the hope chest. Yeah, they were looking for something particular all right. I figured at this point it wasn’t safe to tell anyone anything at all. “I have no idea.”
When the call was over I thought about the house in Topanga, thought about the drive up there. I was certain I wasn’t followed. The roads were too narrow and winding, someone following me would have had to stay too close. It had to have been Ed’s copy of the file that led them to the house. Then I thought of Ed’s other comment, cliché as it was: Never keep your eggs in one basket.
I stared at the chest again and shook my head. Good advice, Ed, I thought. It seemed at every turn I was leading the enemy right into camp.
I’d reached a point where I could no longer think about anything, no longer contemplate alternate courses of action. The events of the prior days weighed on me, suffocated me. I thought of a plainclothes policeman sitting in an unmarked car outside my apartment. Was that supposed to help me sleep? It was the fact that I needed protection that haunted me. The mere presence of protection could not take away the danger, or the fear of danger. And what could they really protect me from anyway?
But there, alone in my quiet office, sagging