1
Frank Collier finished off Don Perry just the way Doc Pratt had instructed him to do it. It was a bit messy, but Frank attributed that to his own inexperience. He had left Don alive, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before he died; probably a day or two at the most.
Frank wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of killing to begin with, but killing children was almost too much for him to deal with. He tried to work things out emotionally as he sat in his rented van watching the Murphy house from half a block down the street. It was probably going to take a day or two more of surveillance before Frank would feel comfortable enough to move on Brian Murphy.
It was coming up on one o’clock in the morning and Frank was ready to call it a night. He reached for a tissue to wipe down the condensation that had formed on the inside of the windshield and began to dry it off. Then, out of the corner of his eye he noticed the figure of a man in the shadows near the house. The figure moved up to the front of the house and bent down toward one of the two small basement windows that faced the concrete front patio.
Frank rolled down the window of the van to get a better look, but the figure was totally out of sight by then.
“This is just great,” Frank sarcastically remarked to himself. “A friggin’ burglar has to pick this very house this very night.” He was already trying to figure out another way to do Brian Murphy. Cops would probably be all over this neighborhood for the next few days, and the Murphys would probably have a brand new thousand-dollar burglar alarm installed by Friday.
He was ready to pull out and get back to his hotel, but curiosity got the better of him. He waited about five minutes and then spotted the figure hustling down the front steps and briskly walking down the street. The thing that caught Frank’s attention was that the man had gotten in and out so fast and he emerged without carrying anything at all. It struck Frank as pretty unusual and he decided to follow the man for the sport of it.
The figure hopped into a late model automobile with New Jersey tags and drove off. Frank jotted the license number down and followed as closely as he dared. There was almost no traffic this time of night and it was hard to follow the car without being detected. Frank followed at a safe distance, but lost the car when a traffic light separated them.
.....
Mason listened to Frank’s story the next morning. When Frank asked for Mason’s advice, Mason was quite explicit.
“Find out who this guy is, Frank,” began Mason. “And I want to know what he was doing in the Murphy house. I don’t believe for a minute this guy’s a burglar. And I want a tap on this guy’s phone. Can you still handle that sort of thing?”
“You bet,” Frank boasted. “My buddy in DMV can get me a trace on the car and I’ll get a tap on this guy’s phone immediately after that. Buzz is still making those tiny little transmitters. It should be duck soup.”
“Yeah,” Mason added, “if the car isn’t stolen or rented.”
“Well, I got a pretty good look at this guy’s face. It won’t take me long to find out if I got the right house or not.”
“Terrific. Get back to me as soon as you have anything more.”
“Right, chief. Catch you later.”
Frank hung up the phone and searched through his wallet for a list of numbers. He picked up the phone and dialed.
“Andy Brock, please,” he requested. He checked his watch just as Andy answered and Frank said, “Hi Andy! It’s me, Frank Collier. Can you run a tag for me?....Yeah, Jersey.”
He gave the license number to Andy and waited a few minutes.
“Got a pencil, Frank?” Andy asked.
“Sure! Go ahead.” He wrote the information down, then asked, “Is it hot by any chance?”
“No. At least it’s not reported yet if it is.”
“Thanks a million. I owe you, buddy.”
Frank hung up the phone and thought for a moment. On a hunch, he picked up the phone and dialed information. Bingo! The phone number was listed. He wrote it down and then dialed another number from memory.
“Billing center,” said the familiar voice.
“Joe, it’s Frank Collier here.”
“Trying to get me fired again, Frank? How the hell are you?”
“Not too bad, Joe. I know I’m a pain in the ass, but there’s a great Christmas present in it for you and Connie if you could get me a few months of phone records on a South Jersey guy that’s been on my case lately.”
“South Jersey? That shouldn’t be a problem. What’s the guy’s name?”
“I can do better than that, Joe. I’ve got his name, address and telephone number.”
“Better yet! Shoot, pal.”
Frank gave Joe the information and asked if he could possibly drive up and meet Joe later in the afternoon.
“Yeah, I guess so. Meet me around three at the coffee shop around the corner from me. Do you know the one?”
“Sure, Joe. I really appreciate the help. See you in a while.”
Frank had one last order of business to take care of. He dialed Buzz’s Manhattan number and looked at his watch again.
.....
Frank pulled into the diner parking lot and saw Joe’s car right away. He parked next to Joe and got out. He walked in and saw Joe sitting alone at a booth drinking coffee.
“Hi, Joe,” he greeted as he sat down. “How’d you make out?”
Joe slipped an envelope over to Frank and said, “I got you the last six months.”
“That should be more than enough,” Frank commented as he opened the envelope and checked through the records. “This guy sure makes his share of California calls, doesn’t he?”
“To tell you the truth, Frank, I didn’t even have a chance to look the records over. I hope they’re what you want.”
“They’re perfect, Joe. Look, I hate to run like this, but I’ve got a lot of work to do.” He gestured toward the records and added, “I’ve got some calls to make.”
“Good seeing you again, Frank,” Joe politely said. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
Frank smiled, shook hands and left. He jumped back in his car and headed for Buzz’s place. He got caught in some rush hour traffic and he didn’t arrive until four.
“Frank, old man,” greeted Buzz. “I didn’t expect you for another hour.”
“How are you, Buzz? Long time no see.”
“I’m doing okay, Frank. The old arthritis is acting up again. Makes it kind of hard to work on these things.” He pointed to the tiny radio transmitter and receivers on his workbench. “Are you going to install this yourself?”
“I have to, Buzz. I’m in a hurry.”
Buzz scratched his chin and asked, “Where’s the target?”
“South Jersey,” answered Frank.
“I can follow you down if you want and install it myself,” Buzz volunteered. “It’s the least I can do for an old friend.”
Frank thought about it and then said, “No thanks, Buzz. I appreciate it, but maybe it’s better if you don’t know too much about this thing.”
Buzz winked at Frank and commented, “Still up to no good, eh?” He laughed and told Frank in the best German accent he could muster, “I know nussink!”
“Thanks Colonel Klink,” Frank joked. “Now tell me how to use this thing.”
Buzz gave Frank instructions on hooking the transmitter up and using the receivers and the tape recorder. Frank paid him in cash, thanked him and left.
.....
At around eight that evening, Frank spoke with Mason again.
“The guy’s name is Michael Pearlstein. I got a copy of his phone records for the last six months and I’ll have a bug on his phone later tonight. This guy makes a lot of California calls, Mason, and it’s real interesting. It took me over an hour to do it, but I called the most frequently appearing numbers and got the info on them.”
“I’m all ears,” Mason prodded.
“There’s four numbers that stick out like sore thumbs. One is at UCLA, and they answered the phone with ‘Gifted Children’s Program’. The second one is a private psychiatric hospital. The third is the Valdez residence. The fourth one was an answering machine at the Meyers’ residence. Does any of it make any sense to you?”
“Gifted Children’s Program,” repeated Mason. “Yeah, it might make some sense. Any other numbers?”
“Nothing particularly repetitive. A few calls here and there, but I didn’t see any other patterns. Do you want me to check more of the numbers?”
“Not yet,” Mason instructed. “Get on that phone tap and see if anything develops.”
“Fine. I’ll be in touch.”
Frank drove over to the Pearlstein house and arrived after eleven. He waited until the last of the bedroom lights went out before he walked over and installed the transmitting device on the incoming phone line. He hid the receiver-tape recorder combination in some nearby shrubs, just like Buzz had suggested. The other small receiver enabled Frank to sit in his car up to a thousand feet away and listen through an earphone to the calls. The tape recorder came into play when Frank wasn’t around to monitor the calls directly. It was activated only when the telephone line was in use, so the tape could cover a pretty extensive time period.
When he was through, Frank drove back to his hotel in Philadelphia and crashed for the night. He got up early in the morning and packed. He checked out and moved to a hotel in Jersey just minutes from the Pearlstein house.
.....
Two days later Frank was on the phone with Mason again. From the excitement in Frank’s voice, Mason could tell right away that progress had been made.
“Get a pencil and paper, Mason. I’ve got a lot of good stuff from the tap.”
“Go ahead,” Mason replied, “I’m writing.”
“First off, Michael Pearlstein calls the psycho hospital and talks to this woman named Francine Sullivan. He asks about Maria and she says there’s no change and that Juanita has visited a few times recently. Then the Sullivan woman gets in some kind of argument with Pearlstein over how much longer they can give Maria special attention. How are we doin’ so far?”
Mason paused while he finished writing some notes, then answered, “Good so far. Keep going.”
“Okay,” Frank said as he flipped through his notebook. “Next, Pearlstein calls the Valdez place and Corina answers. Pearlstein asks to talk with Juanita, then tells Juanita that the Sullivan woman might be off the case soon. Whatever the hell it means, this Juanita woman flips out and babbles a bunch of Spanish crap that I can’t understand and neither can Pearlstein.”
Frank paused again while he flipped to another page, and Mason got impatient.
“What else, Frank?” Mason demanded.
“Here’s where it all starts to come together,” Frank explained. “After he talks to this Juanita woman, Pearlstein calls the Meyers house and has a quick conversation with this woman named Karen. Then he asks to talk with Jamie and Karen says she’ll go get her. A minute later Jamie’s on the phone with Pearlstein. He tells her he injected the Murphy kid and confirmed that the kid died the next day. Through the whole thing, Pearlstein’s crying his eyes out like a baby and this Jamie’s trying to comfort him. You gettin’ all this so far, Mason?”
“Yeah,” Mason answered excitedly. “Keep going!”
Frank continued, “It gets really weird, Mason. This Jamie tells Pearlstein not to be too upset because he’s doing God’s work. Then, as if killing a kid is routine stuff, this Jamie changes the subject and asks about Maria Cortez. Pearlstein says she’s still the same and he mentions Juanita and the Sullivan woman.”
Frank paused again and Mason asked, “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Frank continued. “There’s one really crazy thing. I’m pretty good at judging voices, Mason, and I’d bet that this Jamie kid can’t be more than three or four years old.”
Mason was ecstatic, puzzled and frightened all at the same time. He nervously reviewed the notes he had taken.
“Let me go back over this with you, Frank. The way I read it, we’re dealing with a Maria Cortez and a kid named Jamie something; possibly Jamie Meyers from the sound of it. Pearlstein kills this Brian Murphy kid and Jamie tells him it’s for God. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“That’s what I’m saying, Mason.”
“All right, Frank. Listen carefully! You gotta get out there and find out who the hell these people are. Especially, find out whatever you can about Maria Cortez and Jamie Meyers or whatever her last name is.”
“What’s all this shit about, Mason?” demanded Frank. “Reincarnation, killing kids for God, psycho hospitals,....it’s getting pretty damned scary.”
“It is pretty scary,” agreed Mason. “Be very careful, Frank. A little while back you asked me about getting in on this reincarnation stuff. Do you remember that?”
“Sure!”
“When this is all over, I’m gonna give you the gift of eternal life,” Mason lied.
“I just don’t know what to say, Mason. Are you serious?”
“You’re my best buddy, Frank. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
2
Two days later Michael called Jamie at home. Jamie had just finished dinner and was studying her lines for the new movie when Karen told her to pick up the phone. Michael was very upset and Jamie had to calm him down.
“I can’t understand you, Michael. Talk a little slower.”
“Francine Sullivan just called me,” he began. “She said some guy was asking questions about Maria. He asked about her age and her condition and other stuff like that. Francine doesn’t think anyone told him anything, but she can’t be sure.”
“This isn’t good, Michael. I’ve got a feeling someone’s eavesdropping on us.”
Michael asked, “What are you saying, Jamie?”
The first thing that entered Jamie’s mind was Mason. It had been eating away at her that he didn’t leave his name and number with Brian Murphy. She knew she’d better play things a little safer from this point on.
“Michael, hold on for a minute,” Jamie requested. She put the phone down, ran in to ask her mother a favor, then got back on the phone. “Call me at the UCLA number in an hour, Michael, and use a pay phone. I think one of our phones may be bugged.”
“All right, Jamie. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jamie hung up and thought to herself that perhaps it was time to let Michael know about Don Perry. She thought about having Michael kill Don right away.
Karen drove Jamie over to UCLA. She asked why it was so urgent for Jamie to get over there in such a hurry, but Jamie dodged the issue. When they arrived, Jamie said she’d probably need a couple of hours. She suggested that Josh might be able to take her home, or else she could call her mother back if she needed a ride. Karen reluctantly agreed to leave, but only after she verified that Josh’s car was in the parking lot.
Jamie kissed Karen good-bye and ran into the building. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was Mason or Don Perry behind this. She found Josh working at his computer. He was surprised to see her.
“What’s up, Jamie? I sure wasn’t expecting you here tonight.”
“I’ve got a big favor to ask, Josh. I really need your help.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His eyes reflected his sincere concern.
Jamie explained, “I have to find out someone’s name and address. I think he was born in Maryland on January 5, 1977. Is it possible to find out who was born on a certain date?”
“I’m not sure,” Josh confessed. “But, if you give me a little while, I have an idea.”
“Thanks, Josh.”
“You’re welcome, Jamie. Can you tell me what this is all about? I’ve never seen you so nervous.”
“Just trust me, please. I promise I’ll explain later, but it’s a long story and I need time to think right now.”
“Okay, kid. Let me get on it.”
Jamie sat down and thought things through the best she could. The overwhelming sense of urgency clouded her thinking. She wondered if Mason may have finally called Don Perry and identified himself. It was a long shot, but it was all she could come up with. She took a small sheet of paper from her pocket and unfolded it. She picked up the phone and dialed Don Perry’s number.
“Perry residence,” the voice said.
“Is Donnie there?” she asked.
“Who is this?” asked the voice.
“It’s Paula Austin. I talked to him a while back and I said I’d call him again.”
“I’m really very sorry, Paula, but Don is no longer here with us.”
“Where is he?” Jamie asked. “Is there a number I can reach him at?”
“No, honey. How can I put this?” The voice sobbed, “Donnie died.”
Jamie hung up the phone and stared straight ahead. It was Mason. It had to be Mason! She felt a surge of nausea come over her and she forced herself to overcome it. She felt fear like never before. A hideous image of Mason began to form in her mind. It was the image of a demon driven to murder by pure greed. Then the dreadful irony of the situation suddenly struck her. The story she made up for Michael Pearlstein wasn’t far from the truth. A devil-child really was out to destroy Maria Cortez, and it was out to destroy Jamie too.
The sound of the phone ringing jarred Jamie from her horrible thoughts. It was Michael Pearlstein. Jamie had to think fast.
“Michael, you have to get out here right away.”
“Why? What’s going on, Jamie?”
“I’m not really sure myself. I really believe our phones may be bugged and I’m afraid Maria may be in danger. We should have Maria moved right away. Also, when you come out here, please bring some more of the poison mixture and some needles.”
“I can’t get out there until next week,” Michael told her in a shaky voice. “I can probably get Maria moved to safety right away, but that’s all.”
“Then that will have to do,” she informed him. “Assume your phone is bugged, Michael. It might even be a good idea to assume you’re being followed. Act accordingly.”
“What do you mean? Act how?”
“Let’s just assume one of the devil-children is on to us somehow. Maybe it was hooked up with Larry or Brian and it saw you. I honestly don’t know what happened or how, but it must be trying to zero in on its target and it must suspect Maria. Get her to safety now! And you better be careful of what you say to me on the phone.”
“You’re scaring me to death, Jamie,” Michael admitted.
“There’s good reason to be scared, Michael. Just don’t lose your head. Take care of Maria right now and then get out here as soon as you can.”
Jamie hung up and began to pace back and forth. She had to keep Maria safe. If Mason killed Maria, Jamie would never be able to get Michael to help her kill Mason. She knew she had to be careful of what she told Michael. It was all getting so complicated that Jamie was afraid she might slip up.
Josh’s voice broke her train of thought. “Why are you so nervous?” he asked. “You’re pacing like a lion in a cage.”
“I’ve got a lot of things on my mind right now,” she explained.
“Well, maybe I can help. While you were on the phone I sneaked over to Sam’s office and called a buddy of mine. This guy’s the world’s best hacker.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s someone who can break into other people’s computer systems. Anyway, this guy says he can probably get you that information you want from Maryland.”
It was the best news Jamie could have hoped for at the moment. Her excitement lit up her face.
“When?” she asked.
“By tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Josh,” Jamie said with a deep sigh of relief. “Should I call you in the morning?”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Make it around eleven.”
Jamie’s fear had turned to exhilaration. She had the sudden realization that if she could find Mason quickly, victory was hers. It was almost too good to be true.
“Josh, could I ask you one more tiny favor?”
“What is it, Jamie?”
“If you’re not going to stay too late, could you possibly give me a ride home?”
.....
In the morning, Karen noticed how Jamie fidgeted and squirmed at the script reading session.
“What’s the matter with you today?” she inquired.
“What do you mean, Mom?” asked Jamie, totally unaware that her nervousness was showing.
“You haven’t been still the whole morning, darling. Is everything all right?”
Jamie looked at the clock on the wall. “I’m okay. I was just thinking about other things.”
It was only ten o’clock and Jamie felt as if eleven would never arrive. Several times she contemplated calling Josh early, but she somehow managed to control herself. She continued to read her part for what seemed like an eternity, and finally it was ten forty-five and everyone took a coffee break. Jamie wandered over to a phone as nonchalantly as she could and called Josh.
“You’re fifteen minutes early,” he jokingly admonished her.
“Well? Did you get it, Josh?”
“He faxed over a list about an hour ago. There’s a lot more names on it than I would have expected. Maryland isn’t that big, is it? Anyway, my friend says that he could only get sixty or seventy percent of the records. Some of them are in files he couldn’t get access to.”
Jamie was about to ask Josh to check the list for the name Mason, but her better judgment intervened.
“Do you think you could fax the list over to the studio, Josh?”
“Sure, kid. It’s six pages long, though. What’s the fax number over there?”
She asked Josh to hold for a moment while she ran into an adjacent office and obtained the number from one of the secretaries. She ran back and gave it to him, thanked him for his help, then hung up and raced around to the fax machine.
Three minutes later the machine hummed into action. A lead sheet followed by six other pages flowed out into the paper hopper. Jamie pulled each one out in succession and read it while the next one printed. She was devastated when she finished the last sheet without seeing the name Mason even one single time.
She sat down and leaned over with her elbows on her knees and her face buried in her open hands. She wondered if maybe his name wasn’t Mason at all, or maybe he’d been born elsewhere and then moved to Maryland. Then she wondered if he lied about Maryland altogether. She felt like crying, but she forced the tears back. She knew that she was in for a long, tough search unless she was lucky enough to catch a big break. She didn’t feel very lucky.
.....
That evening Jamie quietly went to her room and closed the door behind her. She opened the lower right-hand drawer of her dresser and pulled out the tiny metal lock-box. Karen had thought it was so cute when Jamie told her that it contained all of her special secret stuff like her diary and souvenirs. Jamie took the box over to her bed and fumbled through her night stand to find the tiny key. She opened the lock and swung the lid open.
The two small syringes were packaged in sealed cellophane and paper envelopes. She pulled them out and sorted through the various bottles of chemicals and solvents. She took out the small beaker and set it down on the night stand. She went over Zoron and Jonah’s instructions in her mind, then began to mix the concoction. She was frightened and she didn’t feel safe knowing that Michael Pearlstein wouldn’t be there until the following week.
3
Frank Collier hadn’t gotten any useful information by asking questions, so he decided to take another approach. He waited by a locked side exit of the hospital around five o’clock in the afternoon, pretending to be on a smoke break. When one of the staff members pushed open the door on her way out to the parking lot, he casually slipped his foot into the doorjamb to prevent the door from fully closing. When he was certain that nobody was looking, he stuck a small piece of duct tape over the latch to hold it down in the unlocked position. He let the door fully close and then tested his work by slipping a small screwdriver under the latch plate and pulling back. The door started to open. He let it close again, tucked the screwdriver into his pocket and strolled away with a confident smile on his face.
Shortly after midnight, Frank slipped through the door undetected and made his way back to the office area. He was dressed in a white uniform so he’d be as inconspicuous as possible. He found the record room and turned the door knob. It was locked. He casually looked around as he pulled a credit card from his pocket, slid it into the doorjamb and skillfully manipulated the latch out of the striker plate. The door opened, he slipped inside the room, and silently closed the door behind him.
He switched on his small flashlight and scanned the labels on the filing cabinet drawers. It took him ten minutes to find the right drawer. He found Maria Cortez’s file near the back of the drawer and slipped it out. He instinctively slipped a piece of folded paper over the next file back so he could replace the Cortez file in exactly the right position. He read through the file and began making some notes in a small writing pad he carried in his shirt pocket. When he was through, he carefully replaced the file and crept over to the door. He opened it slowly, looked out in both directions, and quickly stepped out into the hallway.
He walked down the hall toward the exit and suddenly an office door opened twenty feet in front of him. He froze for a second and then forced himself to continue along as naturally as he could. A nurse stepped out and turned in his direction. She made eye contact with him, and a puzzled look came over her. Adrenaline surged through his body as he mentally prepared himself to seize her and snap her neck.
“Did you see the cleaning lady?” she asked him.
“No,” he answered as casually as he could. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
He continued walking to the exit and she walked off in the other direction. He was so shaken that he tripped when he opened the exit door and he fell down on the walkway. He got up quickly, looked around to confirm that nobody saw him, and headed for the parking lot.
Two minutes later he was driving away. Ten minutes later his pulse was just getting back to normal.
.....
In the morning, Frank began an early surveillance of the Meyers house. He watched Vic leave for work at seven. Twenty minutes later Karen and Jamie got into their car and drove off. Frank hovered about three cars behind them as they got on the freeway and then got off at the next exit. Two turns later he found himself directly behind them and pulled over to let a few more cars get between them. He almost lost them at a light, but picked them up again three blocks down as they turned into the studio entrance and got waived in by the guard.
Frank pulled over and parked on the other side of the street. He got out and walked toward the guard as he lit a cigarette.
“Can I help you, sir?” the guard asked as Frank approached him.
“Yes you can,” Frank said. “That car that just came in; wasn’t that Jamie... oh now... what’s her name again?”
“Jamie Meyers you mean.”
“Yeah that’s it. Where the heck did I see her before?” he asked as he scratched his head.
“Maybe in ‘Outside the Lines’,” the guard suggested. “She starred in that picture.”
“Ah, that’s probably it,” Frank faked. “Thanks, buddy,” he said as he walked away.
He drove around until he found a bookstore. He went in and looked through the magazine section, but he had no luck finding what he wanted. He waited until there was nobody else at the counter and walked up.
“Can I help you?” the clerk pleasantly asked.
“Yeah, you sure can! I was trying to find something about the child actress named Jamie Meyers. She played in that new movie ‘Outside the Lines’. Do you know who she is?”
“Oh, sure. There’s an article on her in one of the screen magazines. I’ll show you.”
Frank followed the clerk back over to the magazine section. The clerk fumbled around looking at several different magazines.
“Here we go. There’s a nice little story on her in here.”
“Thank you very much,” Frank said.
He walked over to the counter, handed the clerk a five-dollar bill and said, “Keep the change.”
He left the store and drove right back to his hotel. When he got to his room, he sat down and read the article. He waited around until one o’clock and then called Mason.
“What did you find out?” Mason asked excitedly.
“Jesus, where should I start? First of all, this Maria Cortez has been hospitalized for around six months or so. She’s some kind of autistic kid. That Juanita woman is her mother. There’s no father around. She’s around your age, Mason. She was born January 5, 1977. That makes her...let’s see... seven years old and change. It says in her record that she doesn’t talk or communicate in any way. Sounds like a total wack-job, eh?”
“What about the Jamie kid?” prodded Mason.
“I’m gettin’ to that. I followed her this morning to Dynasty Pictures. It turns out she’s some kind of child star named Jamie Meyers. She was in this new movie called ‘Outside the Lines’ and she’s not even four years old yet. I picked up this magazine with an article on her. She’s supposedly this super-genius prodigy kid from Buffalo who’s been on all sorts of TV programs. Hey, that reminds me, Mason. You owe me a coffee! I told you she sounded about three or four years old, didn’t I? This old guy’s still got the touch, don’t he?”
“You sure do, Frank,” Mason agreed. “You did real good. Listen up, buddy. I hate to do this to you, but I need you to get back here right now. I gotta get out there to California right away. How would you like to be my grandfather? We can take a nice airplane trip to L.A. together.”
“How are we going to pull that one off?” asked Frank. “You got parents and school and all.”
“I’ll take care of all that. I’ve got a great way to cover things with my parents.”
“Okay, Mason. I’ll get myself on the next plane out of here. I’ll call you when I get back there.”
“Terrific, Frank! I’ll be ready when you get here. There’s one more thing, Frank. Pick me up a sweat suit or something at the airport. Maybe some NFL thing or something like that. And a cap too. I don’t want to travel in clothes my parents know about.”
.....
Mason could hardly believe it. Maria Cortez was definitely one of the six. But who was this Jamie Meyers? Who was Michael Pearlstein? Mason knew he had to get these answers first hand. He wasn’t about to let Frank Collier know the whole truth.
He sorted things out in an effort to get a fresh perspective. He knew about Brian Murphy, Don Perry and Maria Cortez. Who and where were the other two? He knew that Jamie couldn’t be one of them because of her age, so how did she figure in all this? One thing he knew for certain was that Jamie Meyers was dangerous. A child prodigy? That was far too coincidental to Mason’s way of thinking. He was beginning to get upset with himself. He was certain that he was missing something obvious. But what?
He turned his attentions to more pressing business. He took out pen and paper and began writing a note.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I really hate school. I’m going to hitchhike to Florida and go see Uncle Marvin. Please don’t worry about me.
Love, Mason
He looked over the note and smiled. He could imagine the panic they’d feel. They’ll call the police and they’d call Uncle Marvin. They’d call all the neighbors and friends. They’d sit by the phone for days waiting for news. They’d never even think of looking for a little boy traveling with his grandfather in California. It was a stroke of pure genius!
.....
Frank Collier called the next afternoon from the Baltimore airport. Mason gave him instructions.
“Pick me up across the street from the diner at five. Is that all right?”
“Sure,” Frank agreed. “That should leave me plenty of time. Where do we go from there?”
Mason explained, “I checked out the airline schedules. We can get a plane back to L.A. from Washington National Airport at eight tonight. There’s lots of seating available. Did you bring me something to wear?”
“Yeah. You’ll love it. It’s a Universal Studios sweatsuit. Real tourist shit.”
“That’s great, Frank. I’m going to get ready now. I’ll see you at five.”
Mason packed a small knapsack with underwear, socks, a few polo shirts, a toothbrush and toothpaste. He went into the kitchen and took a fistful of candy bars, a pack of Fig Newtons and two apples just in case he got hungry. He packed everything, opened his bedroom window and dropped the knapsack into the shrubs below. He put the note on his pillow and closed his bedroom door behind him. Then he went downstairs and watched television in the living room until it was time to sneak out.
Frank was waiting for him when Mason arrived at four-fifty. Mason jumped in the car and they left for the airport. They fought their way through some rush hour traffic, but arrived with plenty of time to drop off the rental car and purchase tickets for the eight o’clock flight.
As the plane taxied out toward the runway, Mason could only imagine the excitement that was going on back at his house. He figured he’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do when he finally got back home. He figured he’d probably be grounded for months.
The engines revved and Mason felt the plane accelerate down the runway. As the plane lifted into the air, he pushed the button to recline his seat. He fell asleep within five minutes.
