“So you’re setting a trap for him,” Bob prompted.
“Right. He thinks the book may be at the shipyard. Now let’s see what he does.”
Pete looked worried. “If we’re going to follow him, we need a car — right away!”
Jupe nodded. “Ray Estava said he wants to help us. Let’s give him a chance!”
Ray Estava was there in fifteen minutes. He drove a dull-looking gray sedan that had rust on the fenders and a few dents and nicks on the side panels. “I borrowed it from a neighbor,” said Estava as the boys got in. “It’s such a nothing sort of car, no one will ever notice us. Who are we going to tail?”
“Harry Burnside,” Jupe told him. “His shop’s over there. He should be leaving any minute.”
“Burnside?” Sanchez looked startled. “He’s mixed up in this mess? But he’s the original Mr. Nice Guy!”
“I know it’s hard to believe,” Jupe admitted, “but I found the evidence… Look! There he is!”
Jupe pointed. They could see the back door of the catering shop. Harry Burnside was just locking the dead bolt.
Ray Estava started his car.
Burnside got into his truck, and the truck rolled forward.
The boys ducked down out of sight.
Burnside braked at the end of the alley and looked to the left and the right. Then he pulled out and headed for the Coast Highway.
Estava let him get a block ahead before he followed.
Burnside had to wait for a light at the highway intersection. Estava slowed so that a van loaded with surfers could pass and get between his car and Burnside’s truck.
“You’re pretty good at this,” said Pete admiringly.
“I see lots of spy movies,” said Estava.
The light changed. They moved out onto the highway, heading north toward Bowsprit. Jupe tensed as they neared the turnoff. But the catering truck sailed right past Bowsprit and sped on up the highway.
“Hey!” said Bob. “That wasn’t in the script!”
Jupe didn’t answer.
At Chaparral Canyon, Burnside braked and turned right. Three blocks from the highway there was a condo complex. Burnside parked in front and went up to the entrance, where he rang a bell.
Estava drove past Burnside’s truck. He parked on the next block, and the boys watched through the rear window. They saw Burnside go into the condo complex. After a few minutes he came out again with a girl — a pretty girl with long dark hair. The two got into the catering truck, and it made a U-turn and headed back toward the highway.
“He’s not going to the shipyard,” Bob predicted. “Not tonight.”
Burnside didn’t. He drove south to Marina del Rey, where he and the girl went up to a restaurant.
“So much for that,” said Ray Estava. “He’s just taking his girl out for dinner. I’m not surprised — he’s no crook. If he’d gone to that shipyard, I think I’d have had a heart attack!”
As Estava spoke Burnside paused in the restaurant doorway for a second, holding the door open so that his girl could go ahead of him. He had his head turned away from the watchers in Estava’s car, and for an instant Jupe recalled Jeremy Pilcher standing in his kitchen doorway with his head turned toward Burnside and the dishwasher, Ramon. For an instant Jupe again saw Ramon’s face as the man looked at Pilcher. Estava’s words “heart attack” echoed in Jupe’s mind. “Oh!” Jupe struck his forehead with his fist. “How dumb could I be? Of course it wasn’t Burnside! It couldn’t be him. I remember now. Pilcher went to the kitchen to raise Cain because one of the waitresses broke a glass — that’s the moment it all began!
He was silent for a moment. He concentrated, his eyes closed. “Harry Burnside was there,” he said. “He was putting food on the trays, and the guy called Ramon was at the sink with his hands all wet and soapy. Until that second there was no kidnapping plot. I’d bet my life on it. Pilcher wasn’t in any danger — and then suddenly he was in deadly danger, and he knew it. I saw it happen, but I didn’t understand.”
Bob sat forward. “What didn’t you understand?” he asked. “What happened?”
“Remember how angry Pilcher was? He was shouting, and Marilyn was trying to calm him down. Then Ramon looked at him and Ramon dropped a plate. Pilcher almost had a heart attack on the spot.”
“Nothing odd about that,” said Ray Estava. “It almost killed the old geezer when things got broken — especially if there was a chance he’d have to pay for the breakage.”
“That wasn’t it!” Jupe insisted. “The instant the dish smashed, Pilcher really noticed Ramon for the first time. Ramon was staring at him. I couldn’t see Pilcher’s face, but I saw Ramon, and he had a strange expression on his face. I thought at the time that he was afraid, but I was wrong. It wasn’t fear I saw — it was hatred. He was looking at Pilcher the way you’d look at a worm that needed to be stepped on! Ramon recognized Pilcher. He knew him. And Pilcher recognized Ramon. That’s why he had the angina attack!”
Bob gasped. “Then Ramon is — he’s Navarro!” he said.
“He could be,” said Jupe. “He could be the one Marilyn Pilcher was warned about. And unless I am very mistaken, he’s now at Central Coast Marine searching the Bonnie Betsy. He came back to Burnside’s in time to hear me talk about the yacht.”
“Let’s go!” Estava shifted to drive and stepped on the gas, and they roared back toward Bowsprit.
It was almost dark when they approached Central Coast Marine. Pete worried that the security man would never let them through the gate.
“We won’t need to go through the gate,” said Jupe. “Look!”
The others saw it. Burnside’s disreputable dishwasher was caught in the glare of Estava’s headlights. He was straddling the chain link fence that surrounded the shipyard.
“Don’t stop now!” cried Bob. “Don’t let him know we noticed. Unless maybe we want to tackle him and make him tell us where Pilcher is?”
“Better to follow him,” said Jupe.
Estava drove past Ramon. The boys looked out the back window and saw the man drop from the top of the fence to the ground outside the yard. He took off at a run toward the highway.
Estava went into a tight U-turn. He cut his bright lights and was using only his parking lights when they passed Ramon again. The man was walking now, and he had his thumb out, trying to get a lift.
“Do we pick him up?” asked Estava.
“No, he’d recognize us,” Jupe said.
Estava turned onto the highway and drove south a block or two, then pulled into the parking area next to a fish restaurant. The boys watched through the back window. They saw a van pull over and take Ramon aboard.
“Dark Chevy van,” said Jupe.
“Got it,” said Estava.
They stayed two cars behind the van all the way to Santa Monica. At Lincoln Boulevard the van shot up the exit ramp and pulled over. Ramon got out and the van drove away.
Again Estava passed the dishwasher as if he didn’t even see him. He zipped around a corner and stopped. The boys looked back.
Ramon was walking along with his head down and his shoulders hunched.