Betrayers(26)
“Deron Stewart, Doctor. You probably don’t remember me—”
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t. We met at the Moscone sports show, you said?”
“That’s right. I talked to a lot of people that day and I guess you did, too.”
“Yes. Very crowded event.”
“You said to call you Doctor Easy.”
“Did I? Well.”
“You were with a friend, a man named . . . Heller, was it?”
“Zeller. Yes.” Pause.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Stewart?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about that club you mentioned.” Stewart cleared his throat. He was playing it just right. Softened his voice, put in a little nervousness but not too much. “The one you and Zeller belong to.”
Ten seconds of silence. Hawkins trying to remember. Then, “Yes?”
“Five members and there was room for another man. I said I didn’t think I’d be interested, but . . . I’ve changed my mind. If there’s still room.”
“There is. For the right man.”
“Compatible, you mean. The club . . . all brothers?”
“That’s right. Businessmen, professional people like myself. What business are you in, Mr. Stewart?”
“Computers. Bayside Computer Sales and Service. One of our sidelines is providing computers to schools, mainly those in impoverished sections of the Bay Area.”
“I see. Admirable.”
“Married, two kids. But my wife and I . . . well, I won’t go into that.” Stewart cleared his throat again. “Anyhow, I think I might fit in. I’ve been a sports nut all my life, all kinds, especially football and basketball, I like talking sports to other knowledgeable guys, and I . . . well, I’m married, as I said, but I like to get out once in a while, have a good time with guys who feel the same. You know what I mean?”
“Perhaps.”
“So do you think I might fit in?”
“Perhaps,” Hawkins said again.
“Well . . . maybe we could get together, get to know each other, talk it over. Zeller, too, if he wants to join us.”
Four-beat. Then, “I think that might be arranged. Suppose you let me have your phone number, Mr. Stewart.”
“Deron. Call me Deron.”
“Let me have your number and I’ll get back to you.”
“How soon?”
“Soon.”
“Before the club meets again?”
“Yes. Before then.”
Hawkins provided his cell number and they ended the conversation. Tamara reslotted Bill’s phone, went back through the connecting door. Stewart grinned up at her from the client’s chair.
“How was I?” he asked.
Probably the same question he asked his conquests as soon as they finished doing the nasty. Self-centered types like him always cared more about their performance than anything or anybody else. And if he got any rating less than a rave, he’d blame the woman for being a lousy lay.
Tamara said, “Believable.” Why give him any more satisfaction?
“Yeah, I thought he bought it. I’ll be hearing from him.”
“That company name you gave, Bayside Computer Sales and Service—”
“My brother-in-law’s company. I’ve used it before. He’ll know what to say if Hawkins checks up.”
Stewart’s attitude toward women was sexist lousy and his ego overinflated, but she had to admit he was good at his job. Some agency should’ve put him on full-time by now. Racism? She’d never come up against any of that crap in her dealings with other agencies, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there under the surface.
He said, “I think Hawkins will agree to the get-together. You?”
“No reason why he shouldn’t.” Unless the phony Lucas or somebody else talked him out of it. “But I’m not so sure about Zeller.”
“I figure he’ll want to scope me out, too. Only problem I can see is that I’ll be a stranger to them. Might lead to questions, suspicions.”
“It’s been over a month since the sports show,” Tamara said, “and Moscone was packed that day. Not too likely they’ll remember everybody they talked to.”
“Not even a handsome guy like me?”
She let that pass. “You ought to be able to convince them.”
“Never been in a situation yet I couldn’t handle.”
“Okay. When you hear from Hawkins and you’ve got a time and place, let me know right away. My cell, day or night.”
“Will do,” Stewart said. “If Zeller does show up, you want me to follow him afterward, find out where he lives? Tail jobs are my specialty. He’ll never know I’m there.”