cheese on pumpernickel for me, two bags of potato chips, and two Pepsi Colas. Each sandwich came with a giant kosher dill pickle.
I got back to the office a little after three. Jake still hadnât showed up, nor had he called. Julie turned on the answering machine, and we ate our sandwiches off waxed paper on the coffee table in my office.
After we finished, I lit a cigarette and said, âJake had something important to tell me. He said it would blow my mind.â
âIf youâre worried about him,â Julie said, âyou should call him.â
âHeâs not living at home. I donât know how to reach him.â
She grinned. âWe got that caller ID, remember?â
âOh, right. So you could keep track of all my calls, make sure I didnât overlook anything billable.â
âI logged the phone number he called from yesterday.â
âYouâre amazing.â
âI know,â she said.
She went out to her desk and was back a minute later with a phone number written on a scrap of paper. I took it over to my desk and dialed it.
âKingâs,â answered a manâs heavily accented voice.
âIâd like to speak to Jake Gold,â I said, wondering who or what the hell Kingâs was.
âWho zat?â
âMr. Gold.â I spelled it for him.
âOkay. Hang on.â He put me on hold, then came back on the line a minute later. âNo Gold, sorry.â
âWhat is this place?â I said.
âWhaâ place?â
I took in a long breath and let it out slowly. âKingâs. Whatâs Kingâs?â
âMotel, man. Whaâd you think?â
âAnd thereâs no Jake Gold staying there?â
âI tol you, no.â
âWhat about yesterday? He mightâve checked out last night or this morning.â
âYou want me to look?â
âPlease.â
âSure, man. No sweat.â He put me on hold again. This time he was gone for close to five minutes. Then he said, âSorry, man. Nobody name Gold.â
âCould someone not staying there have used your phone?â
âNot this one. Maybe in one of the rooms, huh?â
âDo you keep a record of calls made from the rooms?â
âOh, sure. Gotta chargeâem. Outgoing calls, they come through the switchboard here.â
âThen I want you to check your records and tell me about a phone call that was made around twelve-fifteen yesterday afternoon.â I gave him my office number. âDo that for me, okay?â
âListen, manââ
âItâs a police matter,â I said. âI appreciate your cooperation.â
âLike I got nuthinâ else to do,â he grumbled. But he put me on hold again. When he came back on, he said, âYeah. Unit Ten.â
âWhoâs staying in Unit Ten?â
âMr. Silver.â
Real clever, Jake. âJohn Silver, right?â I said.
âYeah, thaâs him.â
âSuppose you ring Mr. Silverâs room for me, okay?â
âYou got it, man.â
I let it ring a dozen times. Jake didnât answer, nor did my friend at the switchboard pick up, so I disconnected and hit the redial button.
âKingâs.â
âNo answer from Mr. Silver,â I said. âHe is still registered there, isnât he?â
âOh, yeah. Paid by the week. You get good deal for a week.â
âWhere are you located?â
âRoute Nine.â
âWhere on Route Nine?â
âFramingham, man. Practically next to Kenâs, you know?â
âKenâs Steak House?â
âYou got it.â
âListen,â I said, âdo you know who Mr.âumâMr. Silver is?â
âOh, sure. Tall old guy, funny hair. I check him in. I see him come and go.â
âDid you see him come or go today?â
âNo, man. I been here since eight. Din see him all day. But he donâ have to check