Double Take

when, particularly in Africa. It’s Czech—and surprise, surprise, the cartridge is American design.”
    “Maybe we can trace it,” Cheney said.
    “I doubt that, compadre, but we can try.”
    Cheney picked up Julia’s SIG from the ground, handed it to her. “Hey,” he said to her, “we made it.”
    “I think,” Julia said slowly, looking out over the pewter water, “that I just might let you teach me beach racing sometime.”
    He laughed.
    A patrol car skidded up. The officer yelled, “Captain, we found the car. The guy took off on foot, or maybe wired a car on the street. We ran the VIN already. The Charger was stolen out of a garage in Daly City last night. The owner sure isn’t going to be happy when he sees his ride.”

CHAPTER 39
    CALIFORNIA STREET
    Tuesday afternoon

    Savich saw a flash of irritation on Thomas Pallack’s face as he turned from his window on the thirty-sixth floor of the Maiden-Pallack building on California Street and looked at the two men and two women who stood in his office doorway. Then he saw a look of unease, perhaps fear, but it was gone quickly. Savich recognized the formidable intelligence, the suspicion in Pallack’s eyes, and thought, Dix, if you’d come, he would have called security in a heartbeat and removed us all.
    Thomas Pallack looked at each of them in turn, assessing them, Savich thought, for what sort of threat they posed to him. He stood motionless now, no expression on his face, and fingered the business card Savich had given to his assistant. When he waved to his assistant standing in the open doorway, she nodded and let herself out of the office, after a quick searching look at her boss.
    Pallack said, “The view would be splendid if the fog weren’t lying so thick over the city and the Marin Headlands, there”— he pointed—”behind the Golden Gate.”
    They all dutifully stared out the huge window. Only one of the Golden Gate Bridge’s suspension towers peaked above the fog.
    “The fog usually burns off by noon,” he continued, “but not today, unfortunately. Mrs. Potts tells me all three of you are FBI agents and for some reason I don’t understand, you, my dear Julia, have come with them.
    “Let me say both Charlotte and I are distressed at all your trouble. It has all been an immense shock to us, as well—we are very sorry.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Pallack,” Julia said.
    He inclined his head to her, nodding. “Perhaps that is why you’re here with the agents? They’re protecting you from this maniac?”
    “That’s certainly true, Mr. Pallack.”
    “You used to call me Thomas.”
    “Yes, Thomas, I will.”
    He said, “I see from your card that you’re Special Agent Dillon Savich. I hope you are all here to tell me you’ve caught the people responsible for all this.”
    Savich said, “Not as yet.”
    “A pity. Do these agents have names?”
    Savich introduced Sherlock and Cheney, each of them flashing their shields. He motioned them to sit in the stiff modern chairs facing his desk.
    “Now you may tell me what I can do for you.”
    Savich said, “As part of protecting Mrs. Ransom and investigating her difficulties, Mr. Pallack, we are reviewing Dr. August Ransom’s murder. We believe the two may be related. We would appreciate any assistance you’re able to provide us.”
    Thomas Pallack gave them a slight bow of his head.
    Savich said, “We understand you were a client of Dr. Ransom’s for many years.”
    Thomas Pallack nodded, sat back in the very comfortable-looking leather chair behind his very modern desk, all glass and polished steel, and folded his hands on his belly. He’d eased considerably, Savich saw, felt back in control of his universe, and that was what Savich wanted. Pallack said, his voice expansive and smooth with confidence, “Surely you must know the SFPD interviewed me after August’s murder, along with his other clients. They would have all those records. Unfortunately I wasn’t of much help, nor were any of his other clients, as I understand. So, I don’t know how I can help you now.”
    “You are obviously a very intelligent, very successful man, Mr. Pallack. Perhaps over the intervening months you’ve recalled or wondered about some details that could assist us? How long were you with Dr. Ransom?”
    “Over ten years when he died.”
    “You were pleased with his efforts on your part?”
    “Yes, of course, or I wouldn’t have stayed with him that long. August, as you know, was able to