Geez, I'd been picturing a bit of B&E. I took the elevator down and made my way through the maze of corridors to the lobby. I found a bank of public phone kiosks outside the front entrance, sheltered by a marquee that extended from the lobby door to the passenger loading ramp. While I looked on, a young nurse's aide helped a new mother out of a wheelchair and into a waiting van.

I couldn't see the baby's face, but the bundle wasn't much bigger than a loaf of bread. I scrounged around in the bottom of my bag and came' up with a handful of coins. Lompoc was in the same area code as Santa Teresa, so I knew it wasn't going to require much. I dialed directory , assistance while the young husband loaded flower arrangements into the back of the van, along with a cluster of bobbing pink and silver helium balloons. I got C. K. Vogel's number and made a note of it before I dialed. When he picked up on his end, I identified myself. Judging from the sound of his voice, he was in his eighties and possibly in the midst of an afternoon nap. I said, "Sorry to disturb you."

"No, no. Don't worry about that. Arne called on Friday and said someone might be in touch. You want to know about the van I saw, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. It is."

"Tell you the truth, I didn't say much at the time. I had a brother-in-law worked for the Sheriff's Department – this was my sister Madge's husband, fella named Melvin Galloway. He's since died. Two of us never did get along. He's a damn know-it-all. Had an opinion about everything and hear him tell it, he's always right. I couldn't abide the man. Might not sound Christian, but it's the truth. I told him twice about that van, but he pooh-poohed the idea, said if he stopped to track down every half-assed theory the John Q. Public volunteered, he wouldn't get anything else done. Not that he did much to begin with. He's the laziest son of a gun I ever came across. After 'while, I figured I'd done what I could and said to hell with him. What struck me afterward was not the hippie van so much as that other car I saw. Snappy-looking red convertible with Arizona plates."

"Arne mentioned the red car, but I got the impression it was the van you thought was suspicious. Did I get that wrong?"

"No, ma'am. I noticed the van on account of the paint job-peace symbols and that sort, in the wildest colors imaginable. It was parked right there in that fork in the road when I first became aware of it."

"I know the location."

"Reason the other car caught my attention was because I later read in the paper they recovered a stolen car matching that description."

"You remember the make?"