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He stabbed down the phone button. Releasing it again, he punched Judith's
phone number. No one answered. Punching for Information, he asked for Judith's
parents' number. She often spent Sunday afternoons there.
"Hello, Garreth," Judith said cautiously when her mother put her on the
line. "How are you?"
"What do you mean, you want permission for your husband to adopt Brian?
What the hell makes you think I'll ever agree to that?"
Her breath caught. "So much for polite amenities. No, it's all right," she
said to someone on the other end. "Just a minute, Garreth." He heard her
moving and a door shutting, with a diminution of background sound. "Now. I
thought maybe you'd agree because you love Brian and want what's best for him.
Brian and Dennis are already good friends, and-"
"They can be friends, but I'm his father. I stay his father."
"He needs one full-time, Garreth, someone he can feel he belongs to. What
are you? He's lucky if he sees you four or five times a year."
"You were the one who insisted on moving back to Davis. My job doesn't give
me enough time off to-"
"Your job is exactly what you choose to let it be." Her bitterness came
clearly over the wire to him. "It wouldn't have to be twenty-four hours a day
every day, but you wanted it that way. You chose that job over Brian and me."
Oh Lord here we go . . . two minutes of conversation and down into the same
old rut. "Judith, I don't want to start that again."
"With Brian adopted, you wouldn't have to pay child support anymore."
She thought she could buy Brian for her precious Dennis? "Forget it!" he
said furiously. "Brian is my son and I'm not giving him to anyone else!"
He slammed down the receiver, shaking, and turned to find Lien regarding
him with sympathy. All the anxiety related to her presence here returned in an
icy flood. Don't let her think too much.
"I have to be going. I have stacks of paperwork," he said. "Thanks again
for coming by. I appreciate your concern."
"You'll visit Harry sometime today, won't you?"
 He picked up a ski jacket and hurried her out the door. "Of course. May I
have my spare key back? Thank you." He clattered down the steps ahead of her
and out onto the street, calling over his shoulder. "I'll come by this
evening."
Pulling away from the curb, he saw Lien in the rearview mirror, staring
after the car. He shivered. She had caught him asleep! She had almost found
the blood in the thermos. If he remained friends with Harry and her, sooner or
later he would slip, would give away something fatal. He had to find Lane just
as soon as possible, take care of her, and leave the city before he woke some
morning to find someone standing over him with a pointed wooden stake.
6
According to R and I, Claudia Darling had been born Claudia Bologna. Her
yellow sheet listed eight arrests for prostitution in the years between 1940
and 1945. After that her only offenses were those of many good citizens:
speeding citations. One had been issued in 1948, one in 1952 by which time her
name had become Mrs. William Drum with a Twin Peaks address-and a final one in
1955.
He copied down the information and studied it as he rode up to Homicide.
Serruto's office sat empty, but otherwise the squad room looked like it
looked any other day. Garreth felt almost like a civilian in his sweater,
jeans, and ski jacket. He walked quickly to his desk, only nodding greetings
to the detectives there. He felt better after he began the reports. They were
easy . . . just typed from his notes and memory, no real involvement required,
no emotion. His fingers danced across the keys with almost selfvolition,
translating the thoughts in his head to words on paper. The rhythm soothed,
draining away tension and anxiety, even when the report dealt with a dead-end
lead or Wink's screwed-up capture. He typed steadily most of the afternoon,
oblivious to the other activity in the room, only occasionally pausing to
greet someone or let another thought creep in.
While proofreading, though, his mind slipped back to his conversation with
his ex-wife. He fumed just thinking of it. Let Dennis have Brian? No way! Yet
he recognized that Judith had a valid argument. Maybe that was what he found
so infuriating. He had to admit that he had not been much of a father . . .
and what kind could he ever be now? Come on, son; let's go out for a bite. You
have a hamburger and I'll take the waitress.
He tapped the reports into a neat stack and carried them into Serruto's
office. That was enough for today. Now, to Miss Claudia Bologna Darling Drum.
He closed the door of the office and sat down behind the desk with the phone
book.
Three William Drums lived in San Francisco, none in the Twin Peaks area.
Dialing the number of William C. Drum, he found a Mrs. Drum at the other end,
but a young woman and not a Claudia. She had never heard of Claudia Drum.
No one answered William R. Drum's phone.
He dialed William R. Drum, Jr. A child answered. Hearing the high-pitched
voice, Garreth grimaced. This did not sound promising. "May I speak to Mrs.
Drum, please?"
"Who?"
Garreth tried another tack. "Is your mommie there?"
"Mommie?"
Garreth felt like an idiot, talking baby talk to make himself understood.
But to his great relief, a woman's voice came on the line a few moments later.
"This is Inspector Mikaelian of the San Francisco police," he explained.
"I'm attempting to locate a Mrs. Claudia Drum." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]