Part 18 (1/2)

I guess I wasn't in a great mood after the failed bust. ”Unfortunately, nothing happened.” I told her the bottom line.

Kate nodded, waiting for more. She had on a light blue tank top, khaki shorts, and yellow flip-flops. She was wide awake and revved up. I was glad to see her, even at half-past two on a s.h.i.+tty morning.

I finally came in and we talked about the FBI stakeout on Melrose Avenue. I told Kate how close we might have come to getting Dr. Will Rudolph. I remembered everything he'd said, every gesture. ”He sounded like a gentleman. He acted like a gentleman, too... right up until the blond woman made him angry.”

”What does he look like?” Kate asked. She was eager to help. I couldn't blame her. The FBI had flown her to Los Angeles, then stuck her in a hotel room for most of the day and night.

”I know how you feel, Kate. I've talked to the FBI, and you're going to ride with me tomorrow. You're going to see him, probably in the morning. I don't want to set up any bias in your mind. Is that okay?”

Kate nodded, but I could tell her feelings were hurt. She definitely wasn't happy about her level of involvement so far.

”I'm sorry. I don't want to act like a tough detective, a controlling b.a.s.t.a.r.d,” I finally said. ”Let's not fight about it.”

”Well, you were distant. Anyway, you're forgiven. I guess we better get some sleep. Tomorrow's another day. Big day maybe?”

”Yeah, tomorrow could be a big day. I really am sorry, Kate.”

”I know you are.” She finally smiled. ”You really are forgiven. Sweet dreams. Tomorrow we nail Beavis. Then we get b.u.t.t-Head.”

I finally went off to my room. I hit the bed and thought about Kyle Craig for a while. He'd been able to sell my unorthodox style to his confreres for one reason: it had worked before. I already had one monster's scalp on my belt. I hadn't played according to the rules to get it. Kyle understood and respected results. In general, so did the Bureau. They were certainly playing according to their own rules here in Los Angeles.

My last semiconscious thought was of Kate in those khaki shorts. Take your breath away. I had a pa.s.sing thought that she might come down the hall and knock, knock, knock knock, knock, knock on my door. We were in Hollywood, after all. Wasn't that the way it happened in the movies? on my door. We were in Hollywood, after all. Wasn't that the way it happened in the movies?

But Kate didn't come knocking on my hotel door. So much for Clint Eastwood and Rene Russo fantasies.

Chapter 63.

THIS WAS going to be a big day in Tinseltown. The manhunt of manhunts was playing in Beverly Hills. Just like the day they finally caught the killer-strangler Richard Ramirez out here.

Today we get Beavis.

It was a few minutes past eight in the morning. Kate and I were sitting in an arctic-blue Taurus parked half a block from Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. There was an electrical sound in the air, as if the city were being run on a single, huge generator. A play on an old line ran through my head: h.e.l.l is a city much like Los Angeles. h.e.l.l is a city much like Los Angeles.

I was nervous and tense; my body felt numb, and my stomach was queasy. The burnout factor. Not enough sleep. Too much stress for too long a stretch. Chasing monsters from sea to s.h.i.+ning sea.

”That's Dr. Will Rudolph climbing out of the BMW,” I said to Kate. I was so wound up, I felt as if strong hands were squeezing me.

”Good-looking,” Kate muttered. ”Real sure of himself, too. The way he moves. Doctor Doctor Rudolph.” Rudolph.”

Kate didn't say another word as she intently watched Rudolph. Was he the Gentleman Caller? Was he also Casanova? Or were we being set up for some sick, psychopathic reason that I did't understand yet?

The morning's temperature hovered in the low sixties. The air had a crisp snap, like fall in the Northeast. Kate had on an old college sweatsuit, high-topped running shoes, dimestore sungla.s.ses. Her long brown hair was bunched back in a ponytail. Sensible stakeout attire and grooming.

”Alex, the FBI's all around him now?” she asked me without looking away from the binoculars. ”They're here right now? That sc.u.m can't possibly get away?”

I nodded. ”If he does anything, anything anything that shows us he's the Gentleman, they'll grab him. They want this arrest for themselves.” that shows us he's the Gentleman, they'll grab him. They want this arrest for themselves.”

But the FBI was also giving me whatever rope I needed. Kyle Craig had kept his promise. So far, anyway.

Kate and I watched as Dr. Will Rudolph slid out of the BMW coupe, which he'd just parked in a private lot on the west side of the hospital. He wore a European-style charcoal-gray suit. It was cut well and looked expensive. It probably cost as much as my house in D.C. His brown hair was held back in a fas.h.i.+onable ponytail. He had on dark gla.s.ses with round tortoisesh.e.l.l frames.

A doctor in an exclusive Beverly Hills hospital. Smug as h.e.l.l. The G.o.dd.a.m.n Gentleman Caller who was setting this city on fire? The G.o.dd.a.m.n Gentleman Caller who was setting this city on fire?

I ached to run across the parking lot and hit him, take him down right now. I ground my teeth until my jaw was stiff. Kate wouldn't take her eyes away from Dr. Will Rudolph. Was he Casanova, too? Were they one and the same monster? Was that it?

We both watched Rudolph as he crossed the hospital lot. His stride was long and quick and buoyant. Nothing bothering him today. Finally, he disappeared inside a gray metal side door of the hospital.

”A doctor, doctor,” Kate said and shook her head back and forth. ”This is so weird, Alex. I'm shaking on the inside. inside.”

The static on the car radio startled us, but we could hear agent John Asaro's deep, raspy voice.

”Alex, did you guys see him? Get a good look? What does Ms. McTiernan think? What's the verdict on our Dr. Squirrel?”

I looked across the front seat at Kate. She looked all of her thirty-one years right now. Not quite so confident and a.s.sured, a little gray around the gills. The prime witness. She understood the deadly seriousness of the moment perfectly.

”I don't think he's Casanova,” Kate finally said. She shook her head. ”He's not the same physical type. He's thinner... carries carries himself differently. I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I don't think it's him, G.o.ddammit.” She sounded a little disappointed. himself differently. I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I don't think it's him, G.o.ddammit.” She sounded a little disappointed.

Kate continued to shake her head. ”I'm almost sure he isn't Casanova, Alex. There must be two of them. Two Mr. Squirrels.” Her brown eyes were intense, as she looked at me.

So there were were two of them. Were they competing? What the h.e.l.l was their coast-to-coast game all about? two of them. Were they competing? What the h.e.l.l was their coast-to-coast game all about?

Chapter 64.

SMALL TALK, surveillance talk; it was familiar territory for me. Sampson and I had a saying about surveillance back in D.C.: They They do the crime; do the crime; we we do the time. do the time.

”How much could he make with a successful Beverly Hills medical practice? Ballpark number, Kate,” I asked my partner. We were still watching the doctors' private parking lot of Cedars-Sinai. There was nothing to do but eyeball Rudolph's spiffy new BMW and wait, and talk like old friends on a front stoop in D.C.

”He probably charges about a hundred and fifty to two a visit. He could gross five or six hundred thousand a year. Then there are surgery fees, Alex. That's if he has a conscience about the prices he charges, and we know know he doesn't have a conscience.” he doesn't have a conscience.”

I shook my head in disbelief as I rubbed my palm over my chin. ”I have to get back into private practice. Baby needs new shoes.”

Kate smiled. ”You miss them, don't you, Alex? You talk about your kids a lot. Damon and Jannie. Poolball-head and Velcro.”

I smiled back. Kate knew my nicknames for the kids by now. ”Yeah, I do. They're my babies, my little pals.”

Kate laughed some more. I liked to make her laugh. I thought of the bittersweet stories she'd told me about her sisters, especially her twin, Kristin. Laughter is good medicine.

The black BMW coupe just sat there, s.h.i.+ning brightly and expensively in the California sunlight. Surveillance sucks, Surveillance sucks, I thought, I thought, no matter where you have to do it. Even in sunny L.A. no matter where you have to do it. Even in sunny L.A.

Kyle Craig had gotten me a lot of rope here in Los Angeles. Certainly much more than I'd had in the South. He'd gotten rope for Kate, too. There was something in it for him, though. The old quid pro quo. Kyle wanted me to interview the Gentleman Caller once he was caught, and he expected me to report everything to him. I suspected that Kyle himself hoped to bag Casanova.