Fletch(65)

“Why, no. He was at the Inn on the telephone all the time, as far as I know. She was married. I suppose he could have seen her. He never mentioned it.”

“Again, many thanks, Mr. Stanwyk. You’ve been a great help. We won’t bother you again.”

“Any time, Mr. James. I’m very happy to have the opportunity to help out Alan.”

Fletch went through the routine with five local hotels before finding the right one.

“Desk, please.”

“Desk.”

“Has Mrs. Sally Ann Cavanaugh checked in yet?”

The sixth hotel desk answered, “Yes, sir. Mrs. Cavanaugh and her son checked in yesterday. Do you want their room number?”

“No. Thanks. We want to surprise her with some flowers. Can you tell me when she intends to check out?”

“She’s keeping the room through Thursday night, sir, but she told us she would actually be leaving Thursday evening after supper. Tomorrow night about nine o’clock.”

“That should give us plenty of time to send her flowers. Thanks very much.”

“Trans World Airlines. Reservations.”

“On your flight 629 to Buenos Aires tomorrow night,” Fletch said, “do you have a reservation for a Mrs. Sally Ann Cushing Cavanaugh and son?”

“What’s the name, sir?”

“Mrs. Cavanaugh and son, William.”

“No, sir. We do not have reservations under that name. Should we make these reservations, sir?”

“No, no. That’s all right. Do you have a reservation under the name of Irwin Fletcher for the same flight?”

“Irwin Fletcher. Yes, sir. Flight 629 to Buenos Aires. Departure time eleven P.M. Thursday. That reservation has been confirmed.”

“And you do not have a Sally Ann Cushing Cavanaugh registered aboard that flight?”

“No, sir. We do not have either a Cushing or a Cavanaugh listed as passengers aboard flight 629.”

Fletch said, “Thank you very much.”

Before making the next telephone call, Fletch spent a few moments wandering around the apartment. In the kitchen he drank a glass of milk. In the bathroom he brushed his teeth. Back in the bedroom he spent a few minutes looking into the telephone directory.

Then he picked up the phone.

“Command Air Charter Service?”

“Yes. Hello. Command Air Charter Service.”

“This is Irwin Fletcher. I’m calling regarding my reservation for tomorrow night …”

“Yes. Mr. Fletcher. We’re glad you called. Your cashier’s check arrived this morning, as we arranged. The flight is prepaid. An executive jet will be standing by tomorrow night from ten-thirty P.M. to twelve midnight for your flight to Rio de Janeiro. You don’t expect to be arriving later than twelve midnight, do you, sir?”

“No. I don’t. At the airport, aren’t you right next to Trans World Airlines?”

“Yes, sir. We use the same parking facilities.”

“I see.”

“We haven’t known where to call you, Mr. Fletcher, as you left no telephone number when we talked Friday of last week. You didn’t indicate whether or not you’d be traveling alone, sir.”

“No. Does it matter?”

“No, sir. Our only question is whether or not you wish a steward flying aboard.”

“Is one usual?”

“Well, sir, if you’re flying alone, the copilot usually can take care of such things as drinks and food …”

“I see.”

“Will you wish a steward, sir? It makes no difference in cost to you. It just means one of our able stewards will be flying to Rio and back.”

“Yes. I will want a steward.”

“Yes, sir. That’s fine. We’ll have a steward on board.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fletcher. And thank you for calling in. This flight will not need to be confirmed again.”

After replacing the telephone receiver, Fletch remained sitting on the bed. It was ten minutes past seven.

There were twenty-five hours and twenty minutes before he was next scheduled to meet Alan Stanwyk.

Fletch went over in his mind precisely what he had to do in that twenty-five hours and twenty minutes, and ordered the doing of these things in a time sequence. After making the plan, he adjusted it and then reviewed it.

There was plenty of time for what he had to do.

At seven-thirty Fletch fell asleep with his alarm set for one-thirty Thursday morning.

At three-twenty Thursday morning, Fletch parked his car on Berman Street, The Hills, three hundred yards from the Stanwyk driveway.

In sneakers and jeans and a dark turtleneck sweater, Fletch entered the Stanwyk property by the driveway. Leaving the driveway immediately, he approached the side of the house by walking in an arc across the left lawn.