Stalking the Angel by Robert Crais Page A

other vehicles as possible. Even Pike’s transportation is anti-social.
    When I rang the bell, Jillian Becker answered, her face tight. She said, “They’ve just gotten another call. This time the caller said they’d hurt Mimi.”
    She led me back along the entry and into the big den. Sheila Warren was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, feet pulled up beneath her, an empty glass on the little table beside the chair. She was wrapped in a white terry bathrobe. Joe Pike was leaning against the far wall, thumbs hooked in his Levi’s, and Mimi Warren was on the big couch across from the bar. Her eyes were large and glassy, and she looked excited. Bradley Warren came in from his library at the back of the den, immaculate in a charcoal three-piece suit, and said, “Sheila. You’re just sitting there. We don’t want to be late.”
    I looked back at Jillian Becker. “Tell me about the call.”
    She said, “A half hour after you and I spoke the phone rang. Whoever it was started talking to Mimi, then must’ve realized she wasn’t an adult and asked for her father.”
    “What’d they say, Bradley?”
    Bradley looked annoyed. He adjusted each cuff and examined himself in the mirror behind the bar. Sheila Warren watched him, shook her head, and drained her glass. He said, “They told me that they knew we hadn’t stopped searching for the Hagakure and thatthey were growing angry. They said they would be at the Man of the Month banquet and that if I knew what was good for me and my family, I’d call it off.”
    Sheila Warren said, “Bastards.” Her
s
’s were a little slurred.
    Bradley said, “They told me they knew our every move and we were at their mercy and if I didn’t do what they said they’d kill Mimi.”
    I looked at Mimi. She was in a shapeless brown silk dress and flat shoes and her hair was pulled back. There still wasn’t any makeup. I said, “Pretty scary.”
    She nodded.
    I looked back at Bradley Warren. He was picking at something on his right lapel. “Is that the way they said it, using those words?”
    “As near as I can remember. Why?” Not used to being questioned by an employee.
    “Because it is so theatrical. ‘If you know what’s good for you.’ ‘Know your every move.’ ‘At their mercy.’ Most of the crooks I know have better imaginations. Also, it’s pretty clear now that we aren’t just talking about robbery. The calls you’re getting seem like harassment calls. Someone wants to hurt your business and embarrass you, and that’s probably why the Hagakure was stolen.”
    I went over to the big couch and sat down next to Mimi. She was watching everything the way a goldfish watches the world from its bowl, all big eyes and vulnerability and with an assumption of invisibility. Maybe that was easy to assume when Bradley and Sheila were your parents. I said, “What’d they say to you, babe?”
    Mimi giggled.
    Sheila said, “For Christ’s sake, Mimi.”
    Mimi blinked. Serious. “He told me it wasn’t ours.He told me it is the last legacy of Japan’s lost heart and that it belongs to the spirit of Japan.”
    Sheila Warren said, “Spirit my ass.” She got up from the chair and brought her glass over to the bar. She wasn’t wearing anything under the robe. “Well, I guess it’s time to get ready for the Man of the Month’s divine moment.” She said it loudly, then turned away from the bar and leered at Joe Pike. “Want to stand guard while I’m in the bath, rough guy?”
    Jillian Becker coughed. Pike stood solemn and catlike, mirrored lenses filled with the empty life of a television after a station sign-off. Bradley Warren found a hair out of place and leaned toward the mirror to adjust it. Mimi’s face grew dark and blotched. At the bar, Sheila shook her head at no one in particular, mumbled something about there being no takers, then left.
    Bradley Warren stepped away from the mirror, temporarily satisfied with his appearance, and looked at his daughter.