The Night Crew

Clark was walking with a woman who was carrying a cello case, and Anna said, half-joking, but her voice fierce, ‘‘Oh, Christ, a cello.’’
    ‘‘What?’’ Harper asked. He was whispering, though Clark and the woman were seventy-five yards away.
    ‘‘Cello players are supposed to be, you know, sexy. All those hours with a big vibrating instrument between their knees.’’
    ‘‘Hmm.’’
    ‘‘Yeah, it’s gotta be bullshit.’’
    ‘‘Why?’’
    ‘‘I don’t know.’’
    The other couple walked past, still seventy-five or eighty yards away, and Harper said, ‘‘Walk behind me—he’ll recognize your walk if he sees you.’’ Anna looked after Clark, and realized that she would recognize him from the back, anywhere, just by the walk. How had Harper known that?
    ‘‘Okay.’’
    They followed Clark and the woman around the end of the building, and Anna said, ‘‘They’re headed for Structure Two.’’
    ‘‘You sure?’’
    ‘‘There’s nothing else over there, unless they’re walking somewhere. I can’t see them walking far with that cello.’’
    ‘‘Run and get the car,’’ Harper said, tossing her the keys. ‘‘I’ll meet you outside the structure. And run—and keep the goddamn gun handy.’’
    Anna grabbed the keys and turned and ran before he finished the sentence. The parking structure they’d used was four hundred yards away, and took her a couple of minutes to reach, but since it was further from the music building, she didn’t have to contend with other people getting out of the recital.
    She ran up the stairs to the second level, where they’d parked. Stopped and listened. Heard a car somewhere in the structure. She ran toward the car, popping the car door with the automatic key.
    As she came up to the car door, she was seized with the fantasy that somebody was looming behind her: she saw nothing at all, but she climbed frantically into the car and hit the electric lock button. The locks snapped down, and she twisted, looking out the windows . . . nothing. Nobody. Her heart was beating so hard she thought she could hear it, but a minute later, she paid the parking fee and was on her way, no other cars in sight.
    Harper was waiting at the other structure. He flagged her down, and she stopped and crawled into the passenger seat as he got in on the driver’s side.
    ‘‘What?’’ she asked.
    ‘‘Woman’s got a Dodge van. They talked for a couple of more minutes, then he headed up to the next floor. The van just got out a minute ago.’’
    She didn’t want to ask, but did anyway: ‘‘Did he kiss her goodnight?’’
    ‘‘No.’’ Harper didn’t smile at the question, just shook his head. ‘‘Christ, you’re hung up on this guy. And I shoulda said yes.’’
    ‘‘I don’t know what I am; I think I might be goofy,’’ Anna said. Then: ‘‘When I saw him the first time, at the gas station, he had a Volvo station wagon.’’
    ‘‘You remember?’’
    ‘‘Yeah, because . . . it’s about what I’d have expected.’’
    As she said it, a dark blue Volvo wagon nosed out of the structure, then turned left and drove past them.
    ‘‘Here we go . . .’’ Clark led them down to Wilshire, and then to Santa Monica, right on Santa Monica toward the Pacific. ‘‘He lives the other way,’’ Harper said.
    ‘‘Mmm.’’
    Clark was in a hurry, slicing in and out of traffic. Harper let him get several cars ahead.
    ‘‘If he sees us running like he is, he’ll watch us,’’ Harper said. ‘‘I hope he doesn’t just bust a light, or we’ll be stuck.’’
    They stayed with him all the way into Santa Monica, into another parking structure. Harper got in line behind him for a parking ticket, as Anna slumped in the passenger seat, then followed him up the structure, continuing on when Clark found a space.
    Harper took two more turns, then pulled in.
    ‘‘Stay behind me again, until we know where he is,’’ Harper said.
    ‘‘How far are we?’’
    ‘‘Other side of the structure, half a floor lower,’’ Harper said. ‘‘He may already be going down the stairs.’’
    They ran to the stairs, and Harper eased the door open. They heard a door bang, and Harper said, ‘‘Shit, we’ll have to take a chance. Come on.’’
    ‘‘No. I’ll wait here—you call me.’’
    Harper nodded and ran down the stairs, opened the door, then called up, ‘‘He’s out here, hurry . . .’’
    Anna ran down to him, and followed through the