X (Kinsey Millhone 24)

“Don’t worry about it. Looks like you have them well-trained.”

“Until there’s a knock at the door,” she said. “I’m Betsy Mullholland, by the way.”

“Nice meeting you,” I said, and shook hands with her.

She stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind her. “They were calling themselves the Shallabergers then, but I know exactly who you mean. They were the worst neighbors we ever had. I wish I could tell you where they went, but they’ve been gone for months and they didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

“Oh, I know where they are,” I said. “They’ve moved into the house next door to me, which is owned by a couple who now live out of state. Edna admits she and Joseph are squatters, but she’s completely unrepentant and apparently has no intention of moving out. My guess is they’ve done this before, and I was hoping to find someone who had better luck persuading them to go.”

“You know they’re both wanted by the police.”

“Are you serious? For doing what?”

“She stole a hundred and forty-two thousand dollars from the community college. She’d worked for them for years, and no one had any idea what she was up to. She’d been lying about her age, and when it finally came to light that she was seventy-five, they tried forcing her to retire. She threatened to hire an attorney to sue them for age discrimination. The school backed down, and that afforded her a few more years in which to siphon off funds.”

“How’d she manage it?”

“She was senior administrative assistant to the comptroller. She set up dummy accounts and rerouted certain checks as they came in. Then she’d alter the records to reflect balances that were pure fiction. Her husband was in on it as well, forging signatures as needed. Their methods weren’t original, but they were effective.”

“How did they get caught?”

“An oversight. A food service contractor was owed a hundred and ninety-six dollars and he complained to the school. Her records showed the man had been paid, and he demanded to see the canceled check. She was off work that week because Joseph was ill, and by the time she got back, the state auditor had launched an investigation. Edna chose that moment to retire.”

“Were they convicted?”

“Not a bit of it. They were arrested and booked, but they managed to post bail. Neither of them has a criminal history, and I guess as first-time offenders, they didn’t fit the standard profile for flight risk. They didn’t show up for the arraignment, and that’s the last anybody’s seen of them. I have all the newspaper clippings if you want to take a look. You can even have copies made if you want a set.”

“I would love that,” I said. “Do you remember the name of the bail bondsman?”

“He gave me his card when he came by looking for them. Hang on a minute.”

She left the door ajar while she went off to fetch the business card. Six pairs of eyes were fixed on mine, and we studied one another. They seemed hopeful I might have a pocket full of treats as well, so they didn’t make a peep.

She returned with a file folder bulging with articles from the local paper, which she handed me along with the bail bondsman’s business card.

“Thank you. This is wonderful. This is just what I need,” I said. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you to use the phone?”

She held the door open for me.

40

I sat in my car and made a few notes before I put the keys in the ignition. It wasn’t until I tucked the bundle of index cards in my shoulder bag that I caught sight of the half sheet of lined paper I’d torn out of Kim Bass’s steno pad. With a little start, I realized this was March 24, Teddy’s departure date. It was after 9:00 A.M. In roughly eight hours, she’d be getting on a plane to Los Angeles, where she’d pick up her flight to London. In the meantime, I hadn’t heard a peep from Ari. Since I’d be driving through Montebello anyway on my way back into town, I decided it would be politic to fill him in.

When I reached the Xanakis estate, I pulled into the drive and paused dutifully while the uniformed security guard approached the car with his clipboard. I rolled down the window on the passenger side and said, “Remember me? I was here on Tuesday. I work for Mr. Xanakis.”

“Right.”

He returned to the gatehouse, and a moment later the gates swung open and I cruised through. I motored up the driveway and around the curve. The house was just as impressive as it had been the first time. I pulled into a parking pad big enough to accommodate five vehicles. As I approached the front door, I looked for exterior cameras. One was angled on the driveway itself, another on the front door. I gave a little wave as I rang the bell.