"There's no desert in Colombia," Nelson Hareem said. "Our guy's a man of the desert."
"That again." Lynn Cutter sighed.
"Some tar heroin from Pakistan and Iran also comes through Mexico," Jack Graves said. "They got some very dry terrain in those countries, I believe."
"Here I thought I was coming into semiretirement in a nice quiet resort," Breda said.
Jack Graves said, "This little metropolis has more Secret Service assigned on a per capita basis than anywhere in the world including Washington, D. C., because of who lives here and who plays here. The FBI has three resident agents in and out of Palm Springs because of all the interstate major frauds, and a lotta presidential nominees get interviewed right out on these golf courses. The air traffic controllers in this town direct squadrons of executive jets."
"Sounds great to me!" Nelson said. "I can't wait to get a lateral transfer. I'm sick a taking theft reports on stolen dates. And I hope I never see another date beetle! Ugh!"
"I gotta admit, Nelson, I'm a little intrigued with your terrorist idea," said Jack Graves.
"At last!" Nelson beamed.
"I don't find it totally convincing," Jack Graves said, "but we're getting a few people in for the golf tournament who could be targets."
"Not Dan Quayle, for chrissake!" Lynn said. "When Reagan came to town they'd have to close all airspace over the city for fifteen minutes to deal with the huge crowds. When Prince Charles came to play polo they had a traffic jam five miles long. When Dan Quayle came to play golf at PGA West, we detailed two reserve officers and three detectives to help Secret Service protect him from the adoring throngs . . . which ended being a guy and his wife, both Young Republicans. Who the hell is gonna terrorize anybody by going after Dan Quayle?"
"You sure hate Republicans," Nelson said.
"I am a Republican!" Lynn informed him. "A poor Republican. It's unnatural, like a vegetarian vampire."
"I wouldn't completely rule out heroin smuggling," Jack Graves said to Nelson, "even if your man of the desert's from the Middle East. I remember the time when some Algerians came to Palm Springs with a load of heroin sewed inside the Spandex waistbands of their pants. They beat all airport security with that one."
"Algerian?" Nelson said thoughtfully. "Maybe! Who else is comin for the golf tournament that's terrorizable?"
"According to the papers, there's a Saudi billionaire coming to play tennis in a pro-am," Breda said. "He might qualify. And Benazir Bhutto from Pakistan is here, now that she's out of work."
"Aw-right!" Nelson said. "Now we're gettin somewheres!"
"A Saudi sheik?" Lynn said. "Maybe I can meet him and learn a few tricks. I married two women and my life's wrecked. Sheiks get married a hundred and four times and fly to Palm Springs for a weekend a tennis. There's a moral somewhere."
"Lynn knows Palm Springs a lot better than I do," Jack Graves said to Nelson. "I'd trust Lynn's instincts."
Lynn said, "If it's Middle East types you're after, an Iranian recently bought a bar in Cathedral City that caters to a gay clientele."
"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask a few questions around there tomorrow," Nelson suggested.
"Why not?" Lynn said. "But if we have to do lunch, you might end up being the catch of the day."
When Nelson went to the bar to fetch more drinks, Lynn said, "Jack, I know how cute he is and all, but I wish you wouldn't encourage him with all these crime stories. He already thinks everyone he meets in Palm Springs is Mafia if their name ends with a vowel."
Lynn didn't fail to notice that Breda was getting a glow. He figured her for a three-drink woman, and she'd already downed two.
She said, "If you don't get away from Nelson after tomorrow, we'll have to make a new arrangement. How's he keep his job, all the trouble he gets in?"
"He must have a witness pool that'll swear to anything he says," Lynn answered. "One thing I know, he's fearless. And me, I'm afraid a guys that ain't afraid. Guys like Nelson're a greater danger to society than MTV. I like him, but he wouldn't know the difference between dandruff and date rape. How about another Chardonnay, Breda? I'll buy a round."
That shocked her so much that she accepted, even though she'd had enough. Then to her dismay, when Nelson returned to the table, he said, "Y'know, Breda, I think I can help you with your Devon case."
"Can't afford any more employees," Breda said. "Eastern Airlines went under because of too big a payroll."
"Oh, I wouldn't charge you nothin," Nelson said. "It's jist that I think your Clive Devon has a definite connection with my . . ."