“Be quiet, Dillon. Dad’s Beemer needs you.” Savich eased the speedometer to one hundred. Thank heaven traffic was fairly light.
Sherlock said, “So Makepeace calls in the bomb himself, even identifies himself, tells everyone the room number, and blows it right away. Why? Are you making any sense of this?”
Savich said, “Maybe he told them the room number because he wanted people to find Kathryn right away, wanted everyone focusing on her, on the explosion, getting tied up in all the chaos. Meanwhile he’s hoping to see Cheney or Julia, betting everyone will haul butt down to Palo Alto. Or, maybe hoping we’ll leave Cheney and Julia in San Francisco.”
Sherlock said, “Problem here, Dillon. Makepeace is down in Palo Alto setting off a bomb, he as good as asked Cheney to come on down and let him try to kill him again. Does he think we’re that stupid? Wouldn’t he be able to figure out that Julia’s safe in my folks’ house in San Francisco, with Cheney protecting her?”
At that moment, Savich’s cell played “Born to Be Wild.”
“Is that you, Officer Clooney?”
“Yes, sir. It’s bad, Agent Savich. Here’s Sheriff Noble.”
Thank God. “Dix, are you okay? Ruth? You got Kathryn Golden?”
Dix stood in the midst of the rubble, swiping his hand over his eyes to clear away the dust, holding his arm. “Ruth and I are both okay, well, nearly. Kathryn Golden’s in bad shape, Savich. There’s lots of blood, and she’s unconscious. Ruth’s stanching the blood from a wound on her leg. Lieutenant Ramirez’s face is bloody, mine too. Two of his men are slightly wounded.
“The room’s a mess, lots of smoke, lots of alarms, but maybe more noise than real damage. He probably used about half an ounce of Semtex, or some equivalent. But why not more? What I’m not getting here is why this little boom when he could have blasted the whole hotel to hell and gone, and us too? Why didn’t he?”
“Dix, hold on a second. Was the bomb detonated after you untied Kathryn and she stood up?”
“I’d say so, yes, wait. That’s right, it didn’t blow right away. Actually, she’d stepped away from the chair, three, four steps, then bang.”
“So he’s close by, using binoculars to see into the room, which means he blew the charge exactly when he wanted to. He probably connected the bomb to his cell phone. Get the cops to canvass the buildings across the street, he’d have to be able to look into the room. Are the drapes open?”
“Yeah.”
Savich heard Dix speaking to Ramirez, heard Ramirez talking to his officers. Then Dix was back. “Okay, done. And we’ve closed what was left of the drapes.”
Savich said, “I’m thinking he could be across the street, or— am I an idiot or what? You said it yourself, Dix, it doesn’t make sense. Quick, check around the hotel room—up at the ceiling line—see if there are any digicams pointed at you, or a cell phone—that’d be the easiest way.”
Dix said, “You think he’s got two cell phones and he’s been watching the hotel room ever since he left? That would mean Makepeace doesn’t have to be across the street, Savich, he doesn’t even have to be in Palo Alto. He could be in frigging Oregon.”
“Yeah, he could. If Makepeace blew the bomb exactly when he wanted, that would mean he didn’t want to kill Kathryn Golden or any of the hotel people or cops who found her when he sent them up to her room.”
Dix said, “Okay, he sees us drive up and that spurs him to move. He calls the hotel and lays the bomb threat on them. Let me see if I can find— Hey, wait a second, just get away from me! No—not now—”
There was what sounded like a scuffle, then someone fumbling with the phone. Ruth, a bit out of breath, said, “A couple of paramedics grabbed Dix to wrap a pressure bandage around his arm to stop the bleeding. Okay, I’m going to look for a camera of some kind. Hang on.” Not ten seconds later, she was back on the line. “You nailed it, Dillon. There was a cell phone fastened into the folds of the draperies, the camera aimed right at Kathryn’s chair. When I picked it up, spoke, the line was dead. But Makepeace has been watching us—or listening to us. Why would he wait for us to move away from the chair before he blew it? Why would he care if any of us was killed?”
Savich said, “Maybe he only murders for a purpose. Maybe mass murder isn’t his style. Maybe he knows killing all of you would have brought every law enforcement agency in the world down on him.”
Ruth said, “Or maybe he was hoping Cheney would be the one trying to free Kathryn, and he would have blasted the bomb right away. They’re carrying Kathryn Golden out right now. She’s unconscious.”