Lucas looked in his notebook and recited the number. Saito said, “That’s not our number,” but Heather said, “That’s a pay phone.”
Saito said, “Really?” like he wished Heather had kept her mouth shut. Then to Lucas: “We have a pay phone back by the restrooms. Some of our customers don’t want to use their own sometimes...”
“I know howthatgoes,” Rae said. “Don’t want your dealer calling you up or even having your cell number on his phone.”
“Not just dealers... Okay, maybe sometimes,” Saito said. “But what are you gonna do? The phone kicks out two hundred dollars a week, so... we need the cash.”
“If you want to get in touch with Beauchamps, you couldn’t call the phone and hope that he’s walking by. Not if he comes in only every few weeks,” Bob said.
Lucas: “We were told you had to call after nine o’clock Los Angeles time.”
Saito said, “After nine o’clock?” and looked again at Heather, who said, “It’s that goddamn Englishman. I kept telling you he was gonna be trouble.”
Saito said to Lucas, “Ah, jeez. It’s gotta be Oliver. God, I hate that. He’s been with us for, what, eight years?”
Lucas: “Oliver?”
Saito sighed. “Oliver Haar. He’s this English guy that works the door at night. Got a hard nose, when he needs it, keeps the peace when required. The phone’s right down the hall from his spot at the door. He come on at six, works until we throw everybody out at two.”
Bob: “Has he had any trouble with the law?”
Heather: “There was a rumor—”
Saito: “Just a rumor.”
Heather: “That he needed to make himself scarce in London and wound up here. He’s at the door, the women like him—the accent, and all that.”
Saito: “And he looks good.”
“All right,” Lucas said. “We may want to talk to him later. Don’t say a word to him about this. And don’t give him a hard time, no hints there might be a problem. Just let him work. Okay?”
“Are you going to watch him?” Saito asked.
Lucas shook his head. “No. If Oliver is only passing messages, he might not have any idea of who he’s talking to—or even that he’s talking to bad guys. It could be he’s calling burner phones, which wouldn’t get us anywhere.”
“I gotta say, I’d hate to lose him,” Saito said.
“I wouldn’t,” Heather said. “He’s a jerk.”
“You need a jerk on the door,” Saito said. “Especially one with refined British manners.”
“I’ll give you that,” Heather said, grudgingly.
“I leave all that up to you,” Lucas said. “Again, don’t tip him off. This is a serious matter and you don’t want to be touched by it. But it’s also possible Oliver’s completely innocent.”
Heather shook her head, not buying it.
—
RAE CALLED TREMANTY, who opened by telling her they’d found a seventh grave and were pretty sure they had eight. “The pressure is building.”
“We’re working,” Rae said. “We need to find a woman named Barbara Jackman who lives in Marina del Rey. Could you have somebody look?”
“You got an actual lead?”
“Maybe.”
“Call you back soon as I can,” Tremanty said.
