Tales of the City 03 - Further Tales of the City

wanted and he’s heading home.”
    “But the trip was our idea, DeDe. How could he have known we were doing it? How could he …?”
    “Maybe he just lucked into it. How the hell do I know? What does it matter, this speculation? He could be back in Moscow by now!”
    “Not really,” said Mary Ann, perusing DeDe’s map of Alaska. “Not unless they made terrific airlines connections. The closest big city to the Diomedes is Nome and that’s over eleven hundred miles from here. Then he’d have to get a smaller plane to take them to the Diomedes. Plus, there must be some sort of restriction on travel between Little Diomede and Big Diomede. It’s a pretty complicated scheme.”
    “If anybody could do it, he could.”
    “It would take money,” countered Mary Ann.
    “Prue said he had lots of it. He had lots of it in Jonestown—trunks of it—enough to last him the rest of his life. He could bribe his way from here to Timbuktu if he wanted to.”
    Mary Ann rummaged for a word of consolation. “In one way, you know, this helps us. I mean … it narrows the focus of our search. The man at the book store said Little Diomede is only four square miles. Any airplane trying to land there would be noticed immediately … if he’s trying to make a jump into Russia.”
    “Yeah,” said DeDe dourly. “I suppose so.”
    “So, if we call the authorities in Nome, they could relay …”
    “No. No police!”
    “We wouldn’t have to tell them …”
    “No. I told you how I feel about that.” DeDe grabbed her tote bag and headed for the door. “There’s a travel agent two blocks away. I’ll check on the flights to Nome. Be back in twenty minutes.”
    “DeDe …”
    “All we’ve got to do is beat him there. We can hire people, if we have to. Once he lands on that island, we’ve got him cornered. Jesus, we’ve gotta hurry!” DeDe stopped when she reached the door. “Oh … I’m assuming you’re going with me?”
    Mary Ann hesitated, then smiled as confidently as possible. “You assumed right,” she said.
As soon as DeDe had gone, Mary Ann called Brian at Perry’s.
    “It’s me,” she said, perhaps a little too blithely. “Alive and well.”
    “And living where?” He was understandably miffed.
    “I’m sorry, Brian. I didn’t count on this.”
    A long pause and then: “I’ve heard of brides-to-be getting cold feet, but this is ridiculous.”
    She laughed uneasily. “You know it isn’t that.”
    “Is it … the Jonestown business?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Christ! You aren’t in Jonestown, are you?”
    Another laugh. “God, no. I’m fine. DeDe’s with me, and we should be back in a few days. I’m sorry to be so mysterious about all this, but I gave DeDe my word I wouldn’t talk for a while.”
    “I miss the hell out of you.”
    “I miss you, too.” For a moment, she thought she might cry. Instead, she said brightly: “It’s gonna be wonderful being Mrs. Hawkins!”
    “Yeah?”
    “You bet.”
    “You don’t have to take my name, you know.”
    “Fuck that,” she said. “I’m from Cleveland, remember?”
    Finally, he laughed. “Get home, hear?”
    “I will. Soon. How’s everybody?”
    “O.K., I guess. Michael says he’s not getting laid these days. But who is? Jesus … I almost forgot. That asshole from the station called. He says you’re … let me get this right … ‘out on your ass’ if you’re not back at work on Friday.”
    “Larry Kenan?”
    “Uh-huh. And I think he meant it.”
    “Breaks my heart.”
    “I thought you might say that. Also, Bambi Kanetaka called to say that you left some notes at the station. She says she’ll give them to Larry if you don’t call her right away. What’s that all about?”
    It took a moment for the catastrophe to sink in. “Oh, no,” groaned Mary Ann. “Those were my notes on DeDe and the whole … oh God, this is awful, Brian. Look, I have to call her right away. I’ll call you soon, O.K.?”
    “Sure, but …”
    “I love you. Bye-bye.”

Rough Treatment
    I T WAS SUCH A STUPID MISTAKE—SUCH A STUPID, CONVENTIONAL , deadly mistake. Even in her panic and excitement, how could she have rushed off to Alaska, leaving those incriminating notes behind at the station?
    At least Larry hadn’t found them. That was some consolation. Bambi was bad enough, of course, but there was some hope that her simplemindedness and/or vanity might be activated to prevent her from leaking the story to the world at large.
    She pondered the problem