story is that we were within a mile of 'em two hours ago, and they are probably still somewhere in the Bend airport this minute," I told her. "We sure blew it last night."
"You mean I did. But who'd have thought they'd still be around? They sure ain't movin' fast for folks with all creation after 'em. I guess we get dressed as we are and grab a bite at the airport, huh?"
"You know we don't have to," I pointed out. "We did the job. We actually completed the commission. All I have to do is call Little Jimmy, and tell him that Whitlock's in McInerney and has contacts or confederates in this company, and that's it. That's all he asked us to do."
"You know—you're right. I hadn't really thought about it." She gave a big grin. "So the super-detectives did the job and proved it all! We beat the feds, the mob, everybody!" She paused a moment, thinking. "Still, can you really give it up now? I mean, never know who the hell she was, or what all this was about?"
I didn't have to think much about it. "For a percentage of two and a quarter million, most likely ninety percent recoverable by Little Jimmy's friends; yeah, I could forget about it. It might drive me nuts, but I'd be rich and nuts, which beats poor and knowing any day of the week."
"Sheeitt," she responded. "Let's call him from the Bend airport. It won't take much risk to us. I mean, where the hell could they go in a few hours from Nowheres, Oregon? How long you figure it'd take to drive up there from Bend, anyway?"
"Three hours, maybe. Depends on the roads."
"So they'll just be gettin' into town when we get to Bend. What they gonna do—run off to Mars in a Handy Dandy Super Flying Saucer, only One Million Dollars from our toll-free-number line, MasterCard and Visa accepted?"
She had a point, and I had to admit I was not only curious, but also a little mad at myself. The fact was, I'd like to see these bastards, more her than him. Okay, doll, now let's see why you don't leave no fingerprints... .
There weren't exactly flights to Bend every hour; in fact, you couldn't fly there directly at all, but with a change in Portland, as the pair had done, it wasn't that much of a problem. Once we decided to keep going, though, I couldn't resist a double check. I placed a call to the airline they were using in Bend and tried to have them paged. It was a long shot, but you figure they might be figuring on getting picked up by somebody with the company, and it wouldn't be that unnatural. The plane, in fact, had been late getting in, and had only been in for a few minutes, but nobody answered the page and I finally gave up and called the airline people to see if they were still at baggage claim. "A man and a woman who almost look like twins," I told the baggage office.
"Oh, yeah, they just left," said the guy. "Hold on and I'll see if I can spot "em." He kept me hanging for about five minutes, then came back. "Sorry. I think they rented a car at Hertz, though. You might check them."
I did and they had, but they were gone now. The best I could get, even with my phony-cop approach, was that they were driving a new Oldsmobile, and she remembered them particularly, not only because they looked so much alike, but because they'd requested a Cadillac. Still, having the make, model, and license number wasn't bad, particularly since I knew damned well where they were going. What was most interesting was that they had rented the car for a week.
Now, that might not seem like much, but nobody rents a car for a week when they're only going to need it for a couple of days—unless it's fantastically cheaper to do so, and it certainly wasn't—and they particularly wouldn't if somebody else, say their friend in the company, was going to return it. That certainly implied that they expected to be around the place for a while and needed wheels for the whole period. They were pretty confident, I had to say that, still using the Curry name, which had to be in the federal files by now, and still
"You mean I did. But who'd have thought they'd still be around? They sure ain't movin' fast for folks with all creation after 'em. I guess we get dressed as we are and grab a bite at the airport, huh?"
"You know we don't have to," I pointed out. "We did the job. We actually completed the commission. All I have to do is call Little Jimmy, and tell him that Whitlock's in McInerney and has contacts or confederates in this company, and that's it. That's all he asked us to do."
"You know—you're right. I hadn't really thought about it." She gave a big grin. "So the super-detectives did the job and proved it all! We beat the feds, the mob, everybody!" She paused a moment, thinking. "Still, can you really give it up now? I mean, never know who the hell she was, or what all this was about?"
I didn't have to think much about it. "For a percentage of two and a quarter million, most likely ninety percent recoverable by Little Jimmy's friends; yeah, I could forget about it. It might drive me nuts, but I'd be rich and nuts, which beats poor and knowing any day of the week."
"Sheeitt," she responded. "Let's call him from the Bend airport. It won't take much risk to us. I mean, where the hell could they go in a few hours from Nowheres, Oregon? How long you figure it'd take to drive up there from Bend, anyway?"
"Three hours, maybe. Depends on the roads."
"So they'll just be gettin' into town when we get to Bend. What they gonna do—run off to Mars in a Handy Dandy Super Flying Saucer, only One Million Dollars from our toll-free-number line, MasterCard and Visa accepted?"
She had a point, and I had to admit I was not only curious, but also a little mad at myself. The fact was, I'd like to see these bastards, more her than him. Okay, doll, now let's see why you don't leave no fingerprints... .
There weren't exactly flights to Bend every hour; in fact, you couldn't fly there directly at all, but with a change in Portland, as the pair had done, it wasn't that much of a problem. Once we decided to keep going, though, I couldn't resist a double check. I placed a call to the airline they were using in Bend and tried to have them paged. It was a long shot, but you figure they might be figuring on getting picked up by somebody with the company, and it wouldn't be that unnatural. The plane, in fact, had been late getting in, and had only been in for a few minutes, but nobody answered the page and I finally gave up and called the airline people to see if they were still at baggage claim. "A man and a woman who almost look like twins," I told the baggage office.
"Oh, yeah, they just left," said the guy. "Hold on and I'll see if I can spot "em." He kept me hanging for about five minutes, then came back. "Sorry. I think they rented a car at Hertz, though. You might check them."
I did and they had, but they were gone now. The best I could get, even with my phony-cop approach, was that they were driving a new Oldsmobile, and she remembered them particularly, not only because they looked so much alike, but because they'd requested a Cadillac. Still, having the make, model, and license number wasn't bad, particularly since I knew damned well where they were going. What was most interesting was that they had rented the car for a week.
Now, that might not seem like much, but nobody rents a car for a week when they're only going to need it for a couple of days—unless it's fantastically cheaper to do so, and it certainly wasn't—and they particularly wouldn't if somebody else, say their friend in the company, was going to return it. That certainly implied that they expected to be around the place for a while and needed wheels for the whole period. They were pretty confident, I had to say that, still using the Curry name, which had to be in the federal files by now, and still
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