The Clockwork Teddy Read online

  “They can learn to deal with it. Besides, I figure the more you help with this case, the greater the likelihood you’ll be subpoenaed and get another subsidized trip to the West Coast.”

  “I’ve always liked the way you think. Let’s go talk to Lauren.”

  I wasn’t completely certain which of the 1950s-era townhouses was Lauren’s residence, but it became easy to figure out once we got to the sidewalk. All of the tiny front yards were lush with greenery, yet only one featured a three-foot-tall, brown resin statue of a grinning teddy bear wearing a straw hat and leaning on a shovel.

  There was a dark green Subaru Outback parked in Lauren’s driveway and the back of the car was decorated with a bumper-sticker that read: WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS, HUG YOUR TEDDY BEAR. Out of old habit, I put my hand on the Outback’s hood as I walked past. The metal was still slightly warm.

  Gregg noticed my interest and also felt the metal. “Somebody’s been out driving tonight.”

  I said, “Yeah, she should have been back from the teddy bear show hours ago.”

  “Maybe she was down on Lombard Street.”

  “Or she ran some errands and stopped for dinner on the way home. Still, this thing could look like a dark-colored sedan if the light was bad.”

  We mounted the narrow brick steps of the porch and I gently tapped on the fractured front door with my cane. “Lauren?”

  “WHAT PART OF ‘LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE’ DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?” Lauren screamed from inside the house.

  “Lauren, it’s Brad Lyon. I was there today when you got robbed.”

  “You lied! You’re still a detective! Go away!”

  “No, I didn’t lie to you and I’m sorry the officers had to kick your door open. But we had reason to believe that Bronsey had come over here to hurt you.”

  “Why?” She sounded more frightened than angry now.

  “Because it’s possible the guy who robbed you at the teddy bear show was murdered less than two hours ago. Since we know he was helping Bronsey look for your son, we got worried for your safety.”

  Lauren yanked the door open and a piece of the door frame snapped off. It looked as if the patrol officers had arrived just as she was preparing to go to bed. She wore a lime green ankle-length bathrobe and fuzzy slippers with teddy bear heads on the toes.

  In a panicked voice she said, “Oh, my God. Is Kyle all right?”

  “The truth is, we don’t know. That’s why we really need to talk.”

  She squinted past me at Gregg and suspiciously asked, “Who’s he?”

  “Gregg Mauel. He’s my old partner from the homicide bureau and I’ve told him all about how Kyle is being railroaded,” I replied, electing to stick with Lauren’s perception of events for now.

  “But if you aren’t with the police, what are you doing here?”

  “We were having dinner when Gregg got called out to investigate a murder. I went along to say hi to some old friends and ended up seeing some things that made me think the guy who robbed you was killed. Long story short: I’m just helping the police.”

  “I don’t see how this has anything to do with Kyle or me.” Lauren got ready to push the door shut.

  “What if I told you that we found an amazing robotic teddy bear at the murder scene? We think someone dropped it while he was running away.”

  Despite the poor illumination, I could see her complexion go pale. “A robot teddy bear?”

  “Yeah, I know it sounds strange, but I believe it’s a very valuable prototype for a new computerized toy.” The porch light of the house to the left came on and I added, “And I hope I’m not jumping to a wrong conclusion, but Kyle may have lied to you when he said he didn’t steal anything from Lycaon. We might want to go inside to discuss this.”

  She stepped aside to let us in. Gregg took up a position near the door while I went into the snug living room. A candle burning on the coffee table gave off the aroma of freshly baked apple pie. There was a fireplace on the far wall and some framed photos on the wooden mantel. I went over to look at the pictures. One showed a much younger Lauren hugging a boy with piney woodlands in the background. Another featured her standing next to an older Kyle, who was dressed in a cap and gown.

  Not wanting her to know that I’d already recognized Kyle from his driver’s license photo, I pointed to the pictures and asked, “Kyle?”

  Lauren joined me by the fireplace. “That was when he was little . . . before his dad died. We owned a little cabin up near Volcano.”

  “In the Gold Country. Was that what inspired your Barbeary Coast bears?”

  “I guess.”

  “What college did he graduate from?”

  “Stanford. Brad, what happened tonight?”

  “The police responded to reports of a gunfight at a flop-house on Lombard Street. When they arrived, they found a man dead in one of the rooms.” I glanced toward a rocking chair in the corner. “You mind if I sit down? My leg is killing me.”

  “No, go ahead.”

  I settled into the rocker. “So, was your son staying at the Paladin Motel?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “But you have been in contact with him.”

  “Not since late this afternoon,” Lauren whispered as she sat down on the couch. “He called to say he was all right. I haven’t spoken to him since.”

  “Why don’t you call him now?”

  Lauren glanced toward the kitchen where a telephone stood on the white tile counter. “I can’t. He calls me from pay phones. He didn’t have the chance to grab his cell phone before he ran from his apartment.”

  “Still, what is Kyle’s cell number?” I noticed Gregg pull his notebook from his jacket pocket as Lauren recited the number.

  I asked, “When Kyle called, did he mention where he was?”

  “No, because he knew I’d come and help him. He’s trying to keep me safe.”

  “That must be upsetting for you.”

  “Terrifying, actually.” Lauren sighed. “Can you tell me why you’re so sure that Kyle was there? Did anybody see him at that motel?”

  “We don’t have any witnesses to the shooting, so we can’t be absolutely certain he was there. It’s a long story, but there’s a good chance the murder victim was the man in the bear costume who robbed you. That also means it’s possible Bronsey was there.”

  “And?”

  “You told me Bronsey was hired to recover property stolen from Lycaon by your son. You said it was a frame job, but we found a very sophisticated teddy bear robot near the murder scene.” I paused and then sighed. “It was produced in a computer lab.”

  “So you think Kyle stole it from Lycaon?” Lauren asked angrily.

  “I can’t say for certain, but it would explain why they’ve pulled out all the stops to find your son . . . and why there’s a million-dollar warrant for his arrest.”

  “A million dollars?”

  I sat forward in the chair. “Yep, and no judge—not even one receiving generous campaign donations from Lycaon—would issue a bail amount that high unless there was compelling evidence that the property taken was of extraordinary value, and that Kyle was viewed as a flight risk.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Did Kyle ever mention working on anything like that bear?”

  Lauren looked at the flickering candle flame and I had the sense that she was just beginning to realize the full scope of her son’s treachery. “No.”

  “I’m really sorry you had to learn about it this way. I just have a few more questions and then we’ll go.”

  She nodded listlessly.

  “What kind of car does Kyle drive?”

  “A Toyota Prius. I don’t know the license plate.”

  “That’s okay. What color is it?”

  “Like a mint green.”

  “Does he have any friends he’d be staying with?”

  “No.”

  “A girlfriend?”

  “As far as I know, he isn’t seeing anyone regularly.”


  “Did you go anyplace in your car this evening?”

  She looked up. “Why?”

  “Because when we got here the hood was still warm.”

  “I went to the store because I was out of coffee. Is that against the law?”

  “Not at all. Does Kyle own a gun?”

  Her nostrils flared and she gave me a stern look. “My son did not kill that man.”

  “I’m sorry, but we have to look at it as a possibility. It could have been that he was acting in self-defense and—”

  “My son did not kill that man!”

  “Yes, but does he own a gun?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “How about you? Do you own a gun?” I asked quietly.

  Lauren stood up. “No, and get out. I thought you were here to help me, but I can see that you’re just trying to frame my son, too. He didn’t kill anybody.”

  I pushed myself out of the rocker. “If that’s true, then the best thing Kyle can do is surrender himself to Inspector Mauel. The shooter is still out there and he doesn’t know that we have the robot. The next time he sees your son he might decide to shoot first and look for the bear later. Tell Kyle that when you talk to him.”

  Eight

  Gregg put one of his business cards on an old-fashioned treadle sewing machine that was next to the door. I followed him from the house, feeling troubled. Not only had I failed to get the information I’d all but promised Garza I’d deliver, I also had the niggling suspicion that I’d overlooked something important.

  “There’s a greater chance that I’m going to be a freaking contestant on Dancing with the Stars than that Kyle left his cell phone behind,” I murmured as we walked back to the unmarked police car.

  “Dude, this constant thinking the worst about people is going to give you some really bad karma,” Gregg drawled, sounding exactly like one of San Francisco’s many refugees from the Age of Aquarius.

  “I’ll be sure to work on that in my next life. Did you notice the way Lauren stared at her house phone when we were talking about Kyle’s cell phone?”

  “Like she was praying it wouldn’t ring.”

  “But I don’t think she knew about the shooting. She seemed genuinely shocked and frightened.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So, she’ll be on the phone to him the second she’s certain we’re gone.” I opened the car door and got inside.

  Gregg fired up the Impala. “We need to run a GPS search for the cell phone.”

  “Good idea . . . if it’s his cell phone he’s using,” I pondered aloud.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he did leave his phone behind. Kyle is tech savvy, so he’d have to know that he’d give his location away if he used his phone. He probably has a new one by now.”

  Shortly after, Gregg’s phone rang and he pulled over to talk. As he spoke to Lieutenant Garza, I mentally reviewed my conversation with Lauren, but still couldn’t figure out what I’d missed. However, I wasn’t so lost in thought that I didn’t hear Gregg tell Garza that he’d meet her at police headquarters once he’d dropped me off. The field trip was over.

  Gregg slipped the phone into his jacket pocket. “We’re coming up dry pretty much everywhere.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “There are no new witnesses and the car leasing company is insisting on a search warrant before they release any information about who has the Dodge. But here’s an interesting tidbit,” said Gregg. “Either Lauren was lying or Kyle doesn’t tell his mommy everything. Aafedt ran a records check and ascertained that Kyle bought a Sig-Sauer P two twenty-three months ago, from a shop in Santa Clara.”

  “Forty-five auto. That’s some serious firepower.”

  “And it just adds to the confusion, since the only cartridges we recovered from the scene were from a nine-mil.”

  “You’ll figure it out and I know you’ve got hours of work ahead of you, so I think I ought to call it a night. Thanks for letting me come out to play.”

  “My pleasure. It was great working with you again,” Gregg said sadly as he steered the Impala back onto the roadway.

  Ash was waiting for me at Gregg’s house in suburban Corte Madera, on the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge, so we headed in that direction as I listened to the strangely comforting sound of the police radio.

  As we passed the Golden Gate Bridge toll plaza, I said, “It occurs to me that even if you ID the victim from his fingerprints tomorrow, that’s only half the job. You’re going to need to positively link him to Bronsey.”

  “I know. Any ideas?” Gregg asked

  “That bear costume is a good lead. There can’t be that many costume shops in the city and I imagine they’d want to swipe your credit card to bill you, just in case the suit isn’t returned.”

  “You think Bronsey might have rented the costume?”

  “More likely him than your victim. Would you have accepted a credit card from the dead guy?”

  “No way. I’d have automatically assumed it was stolen.”

  “And assuming that Merv was the brains of the operation—which is a scary thought—it would have been up to him to get the costume.”

  “We’ll follow up on that,” said Gregg. After a moment, he slapped the steering wheel. “Damn, I miss working with you. Look, can I call you if we come up with any other weird teddy bear angles?”

  “Depend on it.”

  Gregg stopped long enough to drop me off and tell Susie not to wait up, because he wouldn’t be back until much later. Ash and I said good night and as we drove back to our motel, I started to tell her about my evening.

  “You saw Heather? How did she look?” Ash did her best to sound innocent.

  “Great, other than the fact her hair is blue,” I said with a chuckle. “Were you going to mention that to me before we met them for brunch?”

  “I—What do you mean, them?”

  “Blue hair was apparently going to be the least of the surprises tomorrow morning. Heather is bringing her partner, Detective Colin Sinclair. I like him, but obviously not as much or in the same way as our daughter does.”

  “Oh, Lord. She’s . . . ?”

  “Yep, I have the feeling you’re going to meet your future son-in-law.”

  Ash slumped in the car seat. “That’s impossible. In my mind, she’s still playing with her My Little Ponies in the sandbox.”

  “I know exactly how you feel.” I patted her hand.

  “He’d better not break her heart.”

  “He seemed like a good man. However, if you want to give young Colin the traditional Remmelkemp warning, we can stop at a department store tomorrow morning so you can pick up a carving knife.”

  “There’s a Macy’s at Northgate Mall in San Rafael. I wonder what time they open on Sundays,” Ash said pensively.

  A change of topic was clearly in order, so I started to tell her about the murder and the robotic teddy bear I’d found. We’d arrived at the motel and were walking to our room by the time I finished the story.

  “A walking, talking teddy bear?” Ash asked incredulously. “What did it look like?”

  “He’s a polar bear with a really cute face and his name is Patrick. That teddy bear is going to make someone a big mountain of money.”

  I unlocked the door and we both went into the hotel room.

  “It’s strange that Lauren didn’t know anything about the bear,” said Ash.

  Sitting down on the bed, I replied, “I know, but she looked completely poleaxed when I told her about it.”

  “I can understand why. She’s a wonderful teddy bear designer, and it must have been heartbreaking to find out that her son had excluded her from a project like that.”

  Ash’s words caused me to suddenly realize what had been bothering me about my conversation with Lauren. I said, “If, in fact, he did exclude her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What was the very first thing you asked me about the bear?�
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  After a second or two of thought, Ash replied, “What did it look like?”

  “Which is exactly the question I’d expect from a teddy bear artist. But Lauren never asked me to tell her about the bear. Maybe that’s because she already knew what it looked like.”

  “Sweetheart, I think you may be jumping to conclusions.”

  “Me?” I pretended to be shocked.

  “Yes, you. You’d just told her that her son might have been involved in a murder. Lauren was probably so worried about Kyle that she couldn’t have cared less about the bear.”

  “I suppose you’re right. But I’m almost certain she’s lying about not being able to contact Kyle.”

  Ash began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. “Maybe she has a good reason. Is it possible that Lycaon actually tried to steal the bear from Kyle?”

  “I’m not following.” Actually, I was following something, but it was with my eyes.

  “What if Kyle developed Patrick on his own time and with his own money?” Ash slid her blouse off and gave me a tiny smile.

  “And Lycaon decided to grab the project and claim it as their own?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time a big company pulled a vicious stunt like that.” Ash was now undoing the buttons of her skirt.

  “And it . . . they . . . I just forgot what I was going to say.” I sounded dazed. It was impossible to focus on the Byzantine investigation while watching my wife perform a chaste yet incendiary striptease. “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.” She leaned over to give me one of those patented long slow kisses that make me light-headed.

  When I caught my breath, I whispered, “You Remmelkemp girls are lethal. God help Colin Sinclair.”

  Our bodies were still on East Coast time, so we woke up early. The morning was foggy, but I knew from experience that the sky would be blue and clear by lunchtime. There was no way I was going to last until noon without eating, so we partook of the motel’s free continental breakfast. I was good, resisting the gut bombs—doughnuts—in favor of a bowl of blueberry yogurt mixed with low-fat granola. Then we returned to our room to shower and dress for brunch.