'You're that cop, aren't you?' I asked eventually. He didn't reply. 'Right?'
'I was a cop,' he said. 'Not any more.
'Maybe so. But I was living in San Diego at the time. I read the news. There was one cop in
particular, someone who was supposed to be a serial killer hotshot. Didn't catch him, then dropped out of sight. That would be you, I'm thinking.'
'Seems like you remember a lot about the case,' he said. 'Sure you don't have a vested interest? Maybe you're looking to see how many fans you got. Checking you're still a celebrity.'
'You thought I was him, we wouldn't be having this conversation. So don't jerk me around.'
He took a last drag of his cigarette, and then flicked it across the lot. 'So what are you doing?'
'I'm looking for the people who killed my parents,' I said.
He looked at me. 'These The Straw Men you mentioned?'
'I think so. What I don't know is if they're connected to the man you're looking for.'
'They're not,' he said, glaring out across the lot. 'This whole thing is bullshit and a waste of time we don't have.'
'Your friend doesn't seem to think so. Frankly, I don't care. But it seems to me that inside that hotel we've got two people who are connected to law enforcement agencies. Who can get things done. On the other hand, we've got you and me, who are currently connected to dick. We can stand outside and piss into each other's tents, or we can see where this leads and try not to get too much in each other's faces.'
He thought a moment. 'Good enough.'
'So what's your name, dude?'
'John Zandt.'
'Ward Hopkins,' I said, and we shook on it, and walked back into the hotel.
At the door to the restaurant my cell phone went off. I waved Zandt on and clucked back into the
lobby. I paused a second before hitting the connect button, trying to work out the right way to sound to an
old guy who was running scared. I couldn't work out how that might be. All I could do was listen to what he had to say. And not shout at him, probably.
I answered the call and listened, but it wasn't him. I had a brief conversation, and then thanked someone. I put my phone away.
When I walked into the restaurant they were all sitting round the table, Zandt more in the loop this time. The woman looked up at me, but it was to Bobby that I spoke.
'Just got a call,' I said.
'Lazy Ed?'
'No. Girl from the hospital.'
'Yeah, and, so?'
'She spent the afternoon yesterday chasing down records.'
'You must have really made an impression.' I didn't reply, so he added: 'You going to tell what she found?'
'She traced both my parents back to their hometowns,' I said. 'Neither of which were the ones I had been given to believe.'
My voice was a little cracked. Zandt turned round to look at me.
'I didn't get as far as this bit,' Bobby said. 'But there's a sibling Ward's parents didn't get around to telling him about.'
'I don't think they really told me much at all. Much that was true, anyhow.' I was aware of the woman's eyes still on me; that, and how Hunter's Rock and everything I had thought I'd known now seemed like a favourite story I had been read, time and time again, but of which I could now remember only the title.
'What is it?' the woman asked.
'My mother couldn't have children.'
'Any more?' Bobby said. 'After you?'
'No. Any at all.'
25
They came with us out to the bar. Young Ed wasn't fulsome in his greeting, and said only that he hadn't seen the old guy and still had no idea where he might be. He continued to say this even after Zandt had taken him to one side. I couldn't hear what the ex-cop was saying, but Ed's body language was enough to convince me that Zandt's conversational style was compelling.
'Your man is very keen to catch this killer,' I observed to Nina.
She looked away. 'You have no idea.'
Zandt eventually turned from the barman, who quickly slipped back behind the safety of his counter.
'We're wasting our time out here,' Zandt said, as we followed him back out into the parking lot. 'No offence to you guys, but I don't see how an old wino is going to help Nina and me in what we're looking for. Maybe it's relevant to you, but it's not getting us any closer to anything and Sarah is getting closer to death with every minute we waste.'
'So what do you want to do, John?' the woman asked. 'Head back to LA and sit on our butts there instead?'
'Yeah,' he said. 'Actually that's exactly what I want to do. I wasn't just pulling my wire at your house. I think…' He shook his head.
She frowned. 'What?'
'I'll tell you on the plane,' he muttered.
'Hey,' I said. 'I'll give you a little privacy.'
I walked away from them to where Bobby was standing, near to our car. 'Think the party's going to
break up,' I said.
'So what's our plan?'