Why Did He Die?

Chapter 11

Two Years Later

The San Francisco night was cool with a brilliant, full moon lighting the festivities. Union Street was filled with New Year’s Eve revelers. We had gathered at the Abacus Restaurant where Jim’s roommate, Jeremy, waited tables. He had reserved the prime front table for us. He said it was the best for watching the parade of party goers that would intensify as 2003 turned into 2004. Peking duck aromas mixed with other smells laced with twelve spices filled the room. Jeremy uncorked a bottle of champagne and set glasses in front of us. Jim and I were the only ones who had arrived for our 9:30 pm reservation.

Jeremy assured us that we could stay as long as we wanted to if his tip was big enough. Rob and Michael had arrived from Philadelphia earlier in the day. Rob brought his girl friend and Michael invited another boy. I invited my friend Mary, a Vice President at the Bank of California, to join us. Mary was a tall slender blond with a fashion model-like figure with a youngish face. I expected Lee even though I had received no confirmation from him.

We dressed formally even though we didn’t have to. Michael, Rob, and the other boy who introduced himself as Nathan looked great in their rented tuxedos. Rob’s girlfriend wore a simple black, long sleeved dressed accented by what appeared to be real pearls. My tuxedo was tight at the waist and pulled at my shoulders because I worked out regularly to reduce the stress of work and erase my ever present memory of Andrew. I missed him. Jim and I found common interests but I hadn’t found anyone like Andrew. I really haven’t looked hard since work occupied virtually all of my awake time.

Rob recounted the events since we had been together in Tampa. I had been with Rob and Michael only once since we flew off that afternoon in April, 2001. Before Rob got very far into the story Lee entered the restaurant followed by a tux clad, young Chinese fellow. The fellow’s sparkling brown eyes drew looks to his gentle face and his muscular body. Whether he was Lee’s date or his bodyguard I was not clear. A tinge of anger ran through me as I walked toward our table. Lee was as handsome as the first day I met him on the plane flying to Hawaii. We stood as Jim introduced everyone. I wondered if the fellow with Lee was in the same business that Andrew had been drawn into.

Lee’s young muscle-bound companion with shiny coal black hair appeared ready for a fashion shoot. Instead of closed collars and bow ties both men had open collars showing their upper chests decorated with heavy gold chains. They also wore sparkling diamond rings and heavy gold bracelets. After pleasantries Lee said, “See you and Jim Saturday, first thing. Rob, you and Mike should be there as well. We’re off to a black tie affair at some flaming tycoon’s penthouse in the Embarcadero.” Lee continued, “The meeting will be finished by 10:30 am. There’ll be plenty of time for whatever you have planned.” He turned and walked away followed by his companion. At the door he waved and smiled as his escort grabbed his arm and pulled him into the crowded street.

Moments later Jeremy stood at attention and distributed the menus. He laid his hand affectionately on Jim’s shoulder as he started reciting the limited choices. He abruptly sat down, “Things are still slow so I can join you for a few more minutes. I’d rather be partying than working anyway.”

The girl with Rob asked, “You said you guys haven’t seen each other since Tampa. Why were you in Tampa?”

Rob started, “Well, we were together on a sailing trip from St. Maarten to Tampa. We were the crew. I mean, Michael and me… John just rode along.”

“Hold on I worked as hard as you ever did,” I jabbed.

He shook his head, “Just wanted to see if I had your attention. Anyway, Lee, Jim and John had a convention to attend in Tampa. As soon as the converntion was over John, Jim and Lee flew away leaving first mate Michael and me to tend the Sulu which was Lee’s 65 foot yacht. Lee put it up for sale before he left.

The girl whose name was Marci jumped in, “Did you live on the boat?”

“Well, in a way, but not all the time. When they left for San Francisco and Hong Kong it was almost June. We needed someplace to get away from the heat and humidity. We rented an efficiency apartment a couple of blocks from the marina. I talked the Coast Guard into giving us a temporary charter license. We printed flyers for ‘Anything Goes Sunset Cruises” and distributed them to bars and boutique bed and breakfast around Tampa and St. Petersburg. We had business within a week and were busy until we left in for school August.”

Michael laughingly said, “John, remember those obnoxious white aerobics outfits Lee made us wear for the Jap cruise. They became our uniforms on every cruise. Even when they got holes in them we kept wearing them.”

Marci said, “Don’t stop. Go on.”

Michael continued, “One of the first cruises was for lesbian couples.”

“Oh shut up,” Marci shot back.”

“It’s true, they were really nice women. Eight couples mid-twenties to forty. Most of them were pretty large ladies. They asked us in advance to see if we meant ‘Anything Goes’. We said ‘yes’ having no idea what they had in mind.”

“Well, what did they have in mind?” Nathan entered the conversation.

“Oh, nothing really. They kissed, hugged and fondled each other. I sailed and Rob served drinks. We went almost totally unnoticed. When we got back to the dock they kissed and hugged Rob and me and thanked us for taking them. One sweet, stout woman said that she felt totally free to be herself.”

Rob continued, “We took Sunday School groups, fraternity members. One night we had three boats for a sunset cruise. We rafted up for a big swim. No one drowned miraculously. Remember, the nudist group from Paradise Lakes.”

“What’s Paradise Lakes?” Marci asked.

“It’s a huge nudist resort north of Tampa. That night we didn’t wear the white outfits, remember.”

“We didn’t need to,” as if the conversation continued between Rob and Michael. “Remember the number of boats that buzzed us that day. What a horny world!” Jeremy placed plates of steaming dumplings down in the middle of the table. Egg rolls, fried won ton followed. Between bites Rob continued, “A couple of times a week a broker would call and bring someone over for a look at the Sulu. The boat hadn’t sold by the time we left in August.”

Speaking to Michael I ventured, “Why did you decide to go to Villanova?”

“Rob told me daily that if I ever wanted to amount to anything I had to go back to college. I didn’t have any money. I kept telling him I couldn’t afford it. He made me check out Florida Southern in Tampa and the University of Florida. I applied to both and got in.” Looking at me puzzled. ”I’ve told you this before on the phone.”

“I know, but I never heard the details,” I said. Jeremy interrupted with bowls of hot and sour soup.

“Anyway,” Michael continued, “When somehow I got into Florida Southern based on the results of the SAT’s which Rob made me take. I didn’t study for it. Rob got it in his head that I should come to Philadelphia for college. He said if the Sulu sold I’d be out a place to live. Besides, he needed an excuse to have an apartment and not live in the dorm.”

Rob stopped Michael, “Let’s be clear. I was never going to live in the dorm or at home.”

Everyone laughed and Michael continued, “I applied to Villanova, St. Joseph’s and Drexel. I got in all three. I choose Villanova because I told them I was an orphan and Catholic so they offered me a full scholarship for one year renewable if I kept my grades up. The other reason I chose Villanova was Rob found an apartment close to Bryn Mawr where he was going. It was a short bus ride to Villanova.”

Michael pulled out his wallet and showed us a slightly torn picture and passed it around. “This is us in our kitchen.”

“Why are you showing that picture of our normal household attire.”

Nathan said, “I took that picture!”

“When did the Sulu sell?” Marci asked.

Michael, the sophisticated business-type said, “That’s the best part. We had the Sulu telephone attached to an answering machine which we could check from our Bryn Mawr telephone. We scheduled charters from Philadelphia. We had two charters the first weekend in November. We flew down, cleaned the boat, did the charters and flew back. The charter fees totaled $2000. We cleared between $1400 and $1500—all cash. We did forty charters and to answer your question, Marci, the Sulu was sold in November this year. We made a lot of money we lived well.”

Jim asked, “With all that going on how well did you do in school?”

Rob said smartly, “As a matter of fact both of us have 3.8 grade point averages. Thank you very much! It was a great business and we may do it again when we finish college.”

Half seriously I said, “Michael, what happened to the money I sent you?”

“Sounds crazy but I saved almost all of it. I wanted to use Andrew’s money for something special like a red Mustang convertible.” I sat back in my chair and knew Andrew would be happy.

As we got closer to midnight Union Street filled with party goers. Shortly before midnight we left Jeremy his big tip and waded into the crowded street for the predictable muffled roar at midnight. The sky sparkled with millions of stars. I wondered why with the change of one second we felt compelled to celebrate. A new year starting means we are closer to death. I shivered at the thought. Michael wrapped his arms around me and I heard him say, “John—Hello, John, it’s Michael.”

“I’m here, I’m back.”

“Thinking about Andrew? What you need is a boyfriend.”

”I was thinking about Andrew. We walked toward the Castro. Rod and Michael were holding my hands as we followed Jim. Nathan and Marci were holding hands walking behind us.

We had our Saturday morning meeting. Lee left immediately and headed to the Bohemia Club north of San Francisco. The Mutual of California Insurance Company had been slow to hand over the million dollars to Andrew’s estate but that was finally going to happen on Monday, January 5. Before I left to pick up the money I met the young group on their way to take a cruise around Alcatraz to Sausalito.

When I arrived the insurance company’s reception area was appointed with dark walnut paneling, plush gray carpet, and richly upholstered furniture and attended to by a handsome young receptionist. He took my name and offered me coffee. I had been informed during the insurance company investigation that Andrew spent much of his productive and leisure life in San Francisco. He moved to Hong Kong only a couple of years prior to his death. Twice in the last two years the insurance investigators took depositions from me regarding Andrew and the circumstances surrounding his death. I waited patiently dressed in my black sport coat, tie and white shirt tucked neatly into my gray wool trousers. I dressed up thinking that was appropriate when one receives a million dollars.

I would not receive a million dollar check instead I decided to have the money electronically transferred. I was signing the transfer documents. I was thinking about how to disperse of the remaining corpus of Andrew’s foundation. His will named organizations and Jim for set percentages but left the dispersal schedule at the discretion of the executor. After leaving Tampa I approved checks for $100,000 to the AIDS Foundation in San Francisco and gave $100,000 to Jim.

I conservatively invested the remaining money and was referred to Mr. Clay Kincaid, an attorney specializing in foundations. I remembered my father saying, “You mentioned setting up a foundation in Andrew’s name to help HIV/AID’s survivors. The Northern Trust recommended talking to Mr. Kincaid. Mr. Goode from the Northern thinks your objectives might be too limited in light of the medical advances that are taking place in the HIV/AIDS field. He suggested considering something more generic.” Father told me Kincaid used to work at the law firm of Sidley and Austin in Chicago but was living in Palm Springs. He gave me his number.

I called Kincaid in Palm Springs. He answered his phone promptly and I introduced myself. “Mr. Kincaid, my name is John Haffner. I was referred to you by the Northern Trust in Chicago. I need to have a foundation established.”

“For yourself, you sound pretty young.”

“No, for a friend who died and named me the executor of his estate.”

“You mean a trust.”

“No, there are no family members and the will gave me discretion over the use of money. I want to set up a foundation that helps folks who have survived AIDs and need help with a new life.”

“Pretty specific. How much money did he have?”

“Over three million dollars.”

“How old was he when he died? What happened to him? Did he die of AIDs? Sorry for all the questions. I would rather be doing this in person. Where are you, Mr. Haffner?” He paused.

“Mr. Kincaid…”

“Clay, please.”

“Clay, my problem is I am in San Francisco now. I work in Hong Kong and will be going back soon. To answer your questions: No, Andrew did not die of AIDs even though he could have. He was murdered about two years ago. He was about thirty. I am not exactly sure how he made his money since I really only knew him for a short while.”

“I see your problem. Where is the money now?”

“Invested with the Northern Trust in Chicago.”

“Have you dealt with the estate taxes?”

“Not yet. But the IRS has been in touch with me.”

“OK, I really want to help you and I see your dilemma. Even though I’m semi-retired I have a special reason for wanting to help you which I will tell you when we get together. Let me look into the tax situation. Let me talk to your Mr. Goode at the Northern and see if we are approved to let the investments grow while we work out the details. When will you be back in the states?”

“Nothing scheduled.”

“I propose that we meet in Hawaii in about a month. I have a reason to come over to see several clients. You wouldn’t have to pay for the whole thing. I want to meet you personally and understand your goals. Do we need to talk about anything else? Not to be crass but I'm pretty expensive...”

“How expensive?” I laughed.

“What I started to say is I have a strong personal interest in helping you do this correctly. I will keep track of my hours and when our meeting we will discuss my fees. Don’t worry.” We hung up.

Sitting quietly waiting I was thinking about how I was sending some of my executor’s fees to pay for Michael’s tuition. Jim gave Michael spending money. I had much more of Andrew’s money to deal with. I was in a daze when the receptionist stood in front of me announcing that they were ready for me. I followed him into a conference room with dark furniture and muted lighting. Three men in suits, white shirts and ties sat across from me. After introductions the formalities of signing transfers and other documents proceeded. They assured me that the money would be wired to the Bank of America. Mr. Charnoff, the oldest of the three men, surprised me by asking, “Is there was any further news regarding Andrew’s death?” His tone suggested a familial concern.

Before I could catch myself, “Do you, I mean, did you know Andrew?”

He stammered. “Well, yes, we met once or twice some years ago.” My mind reviewed the list. I couldn’t remember seeing ‘Charnoff’ but I wasn’t sure.

“No, there is no ongoing investigation as far as I know.” His mannerisms suggested his uneasiness.

He gruffly concluded, “We, at Mutual of California, believe there was foul play.”

“I agree but the police in St. Maarten appear to have forgotten the case. Is the company doing any further investigation?”

Charnoff pushed his chair back. “The answer is ‘no’. Thank you for coming and helping me close this distressing case.” I noticed too much passion in his voice. I walked out of the conference room with a sheath of papers which I stashed in my satchel in the rental ca. I drove to Union Street for a lunch that Jim has arranged. He told me it had something to do with Andrew but didn’t say more. When Jim and I were together he talked about getting the “Andrew Chapter” of his life closed. For the last two years the list had remained in my safety deposit box at the Northern untouched. Jim had a copy. We spoke of Andrew a couple of time. He never mentioned that he knew any of the men listed. We were extremely busy with the Kai Mai contract. I thought that maybe he had forgotten about the list.

I assumed that the list contained the names of Andrew’s blackmail victims since Jim’s name was on the list. Jim didn’t feel Andrew could have accumulated that much money from the short list that I had found. When I arrived at a café called Tidewater Jim told me he hoped the men he had invited knew each other. Two men approached our table we rose as Jim two men whose names appeared on the list.

Shortly, the host directed another distinguished, gray-haired man in a blue sports coat and light blue turtle neck sweater to our table. He extended his right hand with manicured nails. He was wearing expensive Italian shoes and a loose gold bracelet on his wrist. In an aristocratic manner he said, “I’m George Huntington.”

Jim said, “We are expecting, at least, one more person. Please join us.”

Five minutes later Mr. Charnoff from the insurance company appeared and walked toward us. I stood with the others.

“John, your eyes gave you away this morning so I decided what the hell I would come to this lunch. What have you discovered? ” He smiled at Jim, “You didn’t expect to see me, did you?”

“No, there may be one more person joining us.”

Conversation was polite until Jim said, “We have something in common — we knew Andrew Henley.”

Mr. Charnoff said, “Good riddance to him!”

I responded, “He was my friend. He wasn’t that bad, just misguided.”

Charnoff said, “Do you know how I can get the negatives? I understand there was also video. I’d pay dearly to know that they were destroyed. I have nightmares about them appearing in my mailbox for my wife to see.”

Jim looked at me, “Do you have the negatives?”

“I never thought about negatives. I have seen some pictures but no negatives or video tapes. I have not found any on his laptop computer.”

“Pictures of me?” he angrily grimaced.

“Honestly, the pictures were sealed in a safety deposit box. I haven’t looked at them in over two years. I am sure there are no negatives.”

Mr. Huntington asked Charnoff, “Where did he entrap you?”

“For me the first time was at a men’s party up in San Rafael that I used to attend.”

“The first time I saw him in a compromising way was at the Bohemia Club.”

“I belong. George, you’re a regular member?”

“Yes,I have a bungalow, too.”” Huntington answered and continued, “Have anyone received a letter in the past two years wanting more money?”

Charnoff looked puzzled, “I never received a letter.” I sent a cashier’s check to a P.O. Box in San Francisco every September.”

“You still do?”

“Yes, I didn’t know I should stop,” Charnoff added.

“Was the check cashed?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have the cancelled check? How was the check endorsed?

“As I said first few years I sent a cashier’s check so I did have a cancelled check. More recently I sent a personal check to Andrew Henley. When last year’s cancelled check came back I kept it.” He pulled it from his shirt pocket.

Jim said, “Can I see it?”

Huntington said, “After I heard the asshole died, I didn’t send money. Two months later I got a threatening letter. I still didn’t send the money. I got one more letter about a year ago but took no action.”

“Do you have the letter?” Jim inquired as Huntington shook his head. “Who told you Andrew was dead?” He paused either protecting someone or just trying to remember. He didn’t answer. Jim continued, “I stopped paying after my divorce because I needed the money more than I feared exposure of my foolishness. I came out so I didn’t care. I never heard anything and Andrew was still alive at that time...”

Charnoff interrupted, “I’m going to stop paying.” At that the last man who joined us rose as if to leave.

“Bart, where are you going? Jim asked.

“To the toilet I am going to be sick,” he staggered away.

“We have a clue,” Jim said holding the cashed check out. This check was sent after Andrews’s death and it was cashed. The scrawled signature is impossible to decipher but it was deposited in the First State Bank of Calistoga.

George said, “The Bohemia Club is near Calistoga.”

“Bohemia Club! That’s where Lee…” Jim and I said simultaneously. After lunch the group split up and the three victims seemed more relaxed than when we came together. Huntington invited us to have lunch if more information came to light.

Jim and I slowly strolled back to his condominium. I said, “Lee left for the Bohemia Club this morning. Too much is pointing to the Bohemia Club.” When Jim didn’t respond I said, “Do you think that bastard Lee had Andrew killed? If he did I know he’d never admit it. A couple of years ago you were adamant that he wouldn’t kill the golden goose.”

“That’s right. What are we going to do?”

“Get in your hot tub and think about all this over a glass or two of your finest chardonnay.”

“Great idea.”

“There have been other developments which I will tell you about once we get relaxed

I wondered how much I should say. Jim had prospered working for Lee as had I. I stayed with Jim in the condo on my infrequent trips to San Francisco. Jeremy was Jim’s roommate and house sitter because Jim was gone so much. Jim was good at his job and demanded and got top quality goods from the Koreans. The sales figures were rapidly growing and the customers kept coming.

Jim’s condo had a new white leather wrap around sofa. The fabric furniture was upholstered in a nubby off-white raw silk. The floors were polished dark mahogany giving the room a museum feel. The dark grey walls were decorated with Chinese silk scrolls and old Korean war implements Jim had collected. The incidental tables and chairs were mahogany and cherry giving a warmer feel to the room. The floor-to-ceiling windows afford an unencumbered view of Alcatraz and Sausalito across San Francisco Bay.

The master bedroom opened onto a deck. By leaning over the balcony rail the Golden Gate Bridge was visible when it wasn’t shrouded in fog. Jim had installed a four man hot tub. From the bedroom it took a few steps to get into the hot, bubbling water. I slipped naked from the master bedroom into the soothing warm water. With two glasses of chardonnay in hand Jim joined me. We sipped and looked out over the roof tops. After a long silence Jim asked, “Do we really care if Lee killed Andrew? What would we do if we found out? We’d lose our jobs. He might try to kill us. What’s the point?”

“I admit some of the same thoughts have crossed my mind more than once. I keep asking myself ‘Why would Lee do it?’” Jim’s foot was sliding up and down my inner thigh. “I got a call from Mr. Henley’s office—he was Andrew’s attorney—with another surprise. Ms. Tornelli, his assistant, informed me that they have been notified by an attorney of a deceased man that Andrew was to receive approximately $200,000 from the man’s estate.”

“Do you remember the guy’s name? Did you recognize it? He must not have been aware that Andrew was dead.”

“Right, the guy’s name was on the list”

“That doesn’t make any sense. A guy was blackmailed and then leaves money to Andrew.”

“Does the name Harold Hawkins mean anything to you?”

“Do you mean do I know him or do I know who he is?”

“Either,” I paused but Jim didn’t answer. “He is or was the President of Gold Leaf Mining in Calgary. Do you want to hear something else amazing?” I continued, “Ms. Tornelli opened a sealed letter that accompanied the letter from his attorney at my request. The letter read, ‘Andrew, Sorry it has been so long. Hope all is well with you in your new life. You made my life wonderful. All my love, Harold’.”

“Unbelievable. A guy screws you in life and pays you when you’re dead. What will happen next?” I was enjoying the sensation of Jim’s foot in my crotch when the doorbell chimed. Jim said, “Sit tight. I’ll get rid of them.” He quickly dried his well-toned, glistening, smooth brown skin. He wrapped a towel around his middle hiding a part of him that had stiffened. Moments later I heard chatter. Jim reappeared with Rob and Michael following after him.

“Where are Marci and Nathan?”

“They’re at the hotel. We’ll meet them later. Can we join you? I am chilled to the bone.”

“Sure, I’ll get some towels. Leave your clothes on the bed.” Rob was down to boxers before Jim finished his sentence. He walked over to the rail to admire the awesome view. His body had matured since I last saw him. His chest was muscular and his biceps filled out. What was peach fuzz on his chest had turned dark brown as had his full bush. His ample manhood was not hidden. Michael wrapped in a towel stood with Rob at the rail. Seeing them together I thought, “Maybe Michael is too dependent on Rob.” They hopped in the spa with us. Everyone had a place to sit but feet and legs were constantly bumping. Jim’s foot found its way back to my crouch. I smiled at him and didn’t flinch. The boys say anything if they noticed.

Jim asked Rob and Michael the question he posed to me. “Do you think we should try to find out if Lee had anything to do with Andrew’s death?”

“Why?” Rob questioned.

“That’s my point. Things are going well for John and me. What do we have to gain?”

Michael said, “If Lee killed Andrew shouldn’t he be punished. How can he get away with such a horrible murder and everyone look the other way?”

“But,” I interjected, “We have no hard evidence and slim circumstantial evidence that he was involved.”

Rob stated what Jim and I knew. “The way I figure it Lee was the pimp and Andrew was one expensive ‘Ho’. Maybe Andrew said he wouldn’t do it anymore. Lee may have lost control of him and had him killed.” He paused and looked straight at Jim who was still caressing my balls with his toes and said, “After we met you in Florida I figured you were Andrew’s replacement.”

Jim pulled his foot back but both boys saw what he was doing. Michael pulled himself up on the edge of the spa. He was now a full-grown Asian man. Jim and I looked as his slim smooth body with stark black hair only on his head and around his middle. His dark brown dick was completely sheathed. Jim said, “Boy don’t tease me. Fuck me or cover yourself.”

Unfazed Michael said, “I never been done by an Asian. But old man if you need some relief my behind is available.”

Smiling Jim said, “OK, I’ll be your first Asian sticky rice.”

Michael added, “Only if you use a rubber. Jim stood up with his shaft stiff and wrapped himself in a towel. He pulled back the covers on the king sized bed and led Michael by the hand. Rob and I watched as the two silhouettes mingled with audible moans emanating from the dusk darkened bedroom.

Rob spoke as the bubbler came on to cool the water. Looking at me he said, “Michael is not gay just gentle, sensitive and accommodating. I know.”

“You don’t have to explain his actions. He is an adult,” I spoke paternalistically.

Rob laughed, “Oh, no, he’s not an adult. I take care of him like a puppy.”

“Do you want me to help get him away from you?”

“No, no, no, I mean he doesn’t pick up after himself. I have to do his laundry. I stay up with him to make sure he gets his papers done. He never tells me he appreciates me or…” His voice trailed off to a soft sigh. I see Rob is tearing up. “Oh shit I don’t care what he does.”

“You care a lot, maybe too much. Maybe you love him? Next year get a new roommate or get a bigger house for four guys.”

“Why guys?”

“I mean girls or guys, just more people. He takes you for granted.”

Rob got defensive. “How do you know? You’re never around. You just send money which he gives to me to manage.”

“Are you guys lovers?”

“No, but we have sex sometimes for relief. I don’t want to be lovers because that might spoil our friendship. Like now later he will tell me everything about the experience he is having with Jim. I do the same with him. I mean like last night the four of us were in the same bed in the hotel. We don’t have secrets.” I marveled at his candor especially when his best friend was fucking Jim in the next room.

Rob looked at me, “What about you and Jim? I could see you and him playing.”

“We have sex sometimes for relief… I don’t know how he feels about me. Like Michael, Jim does not know how to express affection, appreciation or anything like that.”

“Does that bother you? Would you want him to be more than a business acquaintance and fuck buddy?”

“You do know how to cut to the chase.” I paused. “Sometimes I wish we could be more but I’ve never asked Jim how he feels.”

Rob jumped like he’d been electrocuted. He was out of the spa and headed straight into the bedroom. “Michael get your ass out of bed. We told the Marci and Nathan we’d be back by 6:00 pm. It’s already ten after.” I heard Jim moan. “Where’s the telephone?” Rob frantically dialed the hotel number. “Room 1210…Marci, we’re on our way. Please call the restaurant and tell them we’ll be a few minutes late. The number is there on the pad by the bed…Hold on…” He put the receiver down and came back into the bedroom as Michael was pulling up his pants. Rob said directly, “John, are we going sailing or not? They want to go to Florida tomorrow if we aren’t.”

“We’ll know by tomorrow morning. Tell them that much.”

He rushed back to the phone giving me an irritated look, “OK, OK. I’ll call you first thing tomorrow.” Moments later he pushed Michael out into the corridor and closed the door.

Closing my eyes momentarily I heard, “Where’re they going in such a rush?” It was Lee. I got out of the spa carrying my towel. Jim was lying across the bed erect and naked. “Jim get dressed we have business to attend to. Were you stood up?” Lee laughed.

Not answering his question, I asked, “You need me too?” He turned toward me. He hadn’t seen me with sun settling in the west.

“No, not you, John, just Jim,” he said still puzzling at the scene.

“Lee, we thought you were going to the Bohemia Club.”

“That’s where we’re going.”

“This late—why not tomorrow morning?”

“No, now,” he snapped. “We have to meet some people there tonight. Dress casually but warmly. It’s cold up there and you can never count on heat in the cabins.” As I expected Jim complied. I looked at Jim as I secured the towel around myself. Lee walked to the bar and poured a V-8 as Jim disappeared to shower to return a few minutes later dressed in blue jeans, a dark, checked flannel shirt and hiking boots. He pulled a down jacket out of the closet and put a few things in his backpack.

Looking directly at me Jim said, “When are you going back to Hong Kong?”

“In a couple of days: I’ve got to call about a ticket.”

Lee walked over, “Oh, he’s not leaving for another week. We have plenty to do in San Francisco.”

“Well, that answers Rob’s question.”

“What’s that?” Lee inquired.

“You suggested we sail to Baja when we invited the kids out. If we are not going their friends want to go to Florida for some sunshine.”

Lee looked puzzled, “I said that.”

“Yes, Lee, you mentioned it a couple of times.”

“It’s too early in the year to sail from San Diego. Maybe we can fly to Xatapa and sail from there.” Lee seemed to drift off. I could see that sailing was not in Lee’s plans. “John, come with us to the Bohemia Club.” From across the room I noticed Jim shifting from foot to foot. He caught my eye and shook his head suggesting, I think, he wanted me to come along.

“I can come up tomorrow. I’ve to get the kids on a plane to Florida. You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”

I was thinking about the question posed by George Huntington at lunch. ‘Were there negatives or DVD’s containing video?’ Were they hidden at the Bohemia Club? All I said out loud was, “Is tomorrow OK?”

“OK, tomorrow. Do you know how to get there?” Not waiting for my answer he started giving directions, “Follow I-10 north to Exit 97. I think that’s the Calistoga exit. Travel east about twenty miles and look for a massive stone gateway. There is no name on it. Ask the gatekeeper or the person in the office to find us.” Without a ‘goodbye’ or a look back at me, he and Jim were out of the condo.

With the condo to myself I filled my wine glass and went back into the hot tub. As I dimmed the lights the telephone rang. After a quick “Hello,” Rob asked, “Are we going? We passed Lee as we left. They are ready for sunshine before a cold, grey winter in Philadelphia. They want to change their reservations.”

“Lee said maybe Xatapa, but he didn’t say when. I think it would be safer if you go to Florida rather than waiting around for something that may not happen.”

“I don’t think Michael and I are invited. It’s just the two of them. We’ll move in with you tomorrow.”

“Sounds like the Marci and Nathan have hot dates waiting for them,” I joked. A firm telephone click snapped in my ear as I put the receiver back into its cradle.

The telephone rang again. I picked up expecting Rob’s voice and instead it was Lee. “The exit for Calistoga is Exit 97.”

“Lee, Rob and Michael may be coming with me.”

I could hear muffled conversation between Lee and Jim. “Tell them that it can get boring with only old men around. Tell them not to react if they see someone famous and they might. The people who come to Bohemia want to get away from the public.”

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