Free Death in the Haight by Ronald Tierney Page B

knows?” It was the senior Vanderveer who looked troubled. He had accepted as fact that Michael was guilty. After all, Lang thought, he was a practical man. And that conclusion was very hard to avoid.
    No one else ventured a theory.
    â€œThe police think it was the last act of a desperate boy,” Lang said. “Maybe, they think, before he completely accepted he was gay, he gave straight one last try. . . .”
    â€œHis first try,” James said.
    â€œFirst and last, maybe,” Lang said. “That’s what the police think anyway.”
    â€œProbably right,” James said.
    â€œJames,” Mrs. Vanderveer said, lightly scolding.
    â€œI don’t care. He was getting . . . acting like an asshole before . . . when he left.” He shook his head in apparent disgust. “I’ve got to get out for a while. It’s too stuffy in here.” He slammed the door behind him.
    It was too stuffy. The room seemed airless, and vague odors of sleep and food thickened the air.
    â€œSo much to be nervous about,” Mrs. Vanderveer said. “His brother’s disappearance, the coverage in the media of all this sordid business, and poor James will enter Harvard this fall.”
    â€œIt’s tough being young,” Lang managed to say, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Another spoiled rich kid” was the thought that crossed his mind. “You sure you want me to help the police find Michael?” Lang asked. “Because that’s really what I’d be doing if I find him before they do.”
    Mrs. Vanderveer looked like she was bearing the weight of the world, and her husband appeared nearly lifeless. He seemed to move through sheer will.
    â€œWhat we have,” Mr. Vanderveer said, “is this: Kidnappers keep him, maybe kill him or send him back in pieces to show that they’re serious.
Or
the police get him. Maybe the boy resists and they kill him. Or you find him and we arrange a civilized surrender. I have to do that. I’m paying you to bring my son to me.”
    â€œI can bring him to a lawyer—your lawyer, Mr. Vanderveer. That’s about it.”
    â€œThat’s your out?”
    Lang nodded. “I only commit crimes when I’m pretty sure I can get away with them. Mr. West can arrange the ‘civilized surrender.’” He walked to the window where James had stood earlier. He looked out over the park. They had a great view—the park directly in front; legendary Grace Cathedral off to the left; the handsome, but stodgy and exclusive, male-members-only Pacific-Union Club; and directly ahead, beyond and rising above the park, some of the most elegant, expensive condominiums on earth.
    The Vanderveers might live in this neighborhood if they were San Franciscans, Lang thought. Mr. Vanderveer might be a member of the exclusive club across the way.
    â€œI have to find him,” Mr. Vanderveer said. “I have no confidence in the police to find him. But if they do, I am worried Michael won’t live to see a trial. We have to do something.”
    Lang nodded. “We’ll continue. You must keep me informed.”
    â€œI’ve heard nothing. It’s ridiculous. What are they waiting for?”
    Lang had some new thoughts about that, but he kept them to himself.
    Â * * * 
    Lang stopped by the office to pick up Buddha. It was time to go home. Lang banked on his instinct. Stern no longer wanted to kill him. Stern lived by the code of the West, the code boys used to grow up with. Because Lang had had a perfect opportunity to kill Stern and didn’t, Stern was now in debt to Lang. That meant he couldn’t kill Lang until that debt was paid. This wasn’t the way the world worked, but Stern, asshole that he was, had his own sense of ethics.
    Buddha didn’t mind the office or even Thanh’s place, but Lang was convinced the small brown cat preferred to be home,