Blood Ties by Nicholas Guild Page A

which was one reason she was such an effective prosecutor and most of the defense lawyers in San Francisco were scared to death of her.
    â€œI just packed my bag and walked out. He can keep his house and his alimony checks. The manager of my old apartment building on Fell Street has promised they’ll have a vacancy at the end of this month. Once my mother gets over the shock, it’ll be like the whole thing never happened.”
    â€œIs she taking it hard?”
    â€œYou can imagine.”
    Yes, actually, Ellen could imagine. On the one occasion she had met Mindy’s parents, when they had come all the way out to California to visit their daughter, they had been invited down to Atherton for dinner with the roommate’s family. Mrs. Epstein and Mrs. Ridley had discovered they were kindred souls.
    â€œI told Mom I’d probably be ready to settle down by the time I got to my fifth husband, but that didn’t seem to console her.”
    Mindy refilled her wineglass, which killed the bottle. She took a sip and smiled in a way that suggested she had at last come to the interesting part of her narrative.
    â€œAnd now let me tell you about my new squeeze.”
    *   *   *
    They walked out of the restaurant about five to seven, and Ellen gave Mindy the key to her apartment.
    â€œI just have a quick errand to run,” she said.
    Five minutes later she was parked on North Point, across the street from Number 621. The idea had been forming in her mind all during dinner. She just wanted a quick look at Stephen Tregear’s premises.
    It was almost the end of spring, when the evenings lingered forever and the light seemed less to diminish than simply to clarify.
    Just as Sam had predicted, it was a very nice building. Each unit was a town house, brick with bowed windows and a front door painted Delft blue. The rent payments couldn’t have been less than five thousand a month.
    That was about as much as she was likely to find out.
    â€œWhat am I doing here?” she asked herself. “What is this supposed to accomplish?”
    Nothing. That was the only possible answer—nothing. He wasn’t likely to come out and volunteer a confession and, short of that, she couldn’t go calling on him. She had no probable cause, so she could have looked through his apartment door and seen bloody handprints all over the walls, and they wouldn’t have been admissible as evidence. She had no warrant and no grounds to apply for a warrant. She had nothing.
    She had nothing, and she was sitting in her car, across the street from a suspect’s apartment, because she didn’t want to go home to a sleeping ferret. She envied Mindy the chaotic drama of her personal life and she wanted a little excitement. Well, she wasn’t going to find it on North Point Street.
    â€œI’m out of here.”
    Her hand was actually on the ignition key when the door to Tregear’s apartment opened and a man in a tan Windbreaker stepped out onto the street. It was him, big as life.
    He closed the door behind him and started to walk down North Point in long strides. Suddenly he crossed the street. Then he turned a corner and was gone.
    It was irresistible. He was practically begging her to follow him. She hardly expected that he would lead her to an unmarked grave in the middle of Ghirardelli Square, but the thing was still irresistible.
    Ellen had never tailed anyone before, but she knew it was a team sport—on the sidewalk, you needed at least five people to shag someone for any distance. Thus she knew she had a better chance if she followed him in her car than if she started off on foot. Careful, she thought to herself. He knows you by sight. She felt reasonably confident that Tregear hadn’t noticed her yet.
    She drove up to the intersection and slowed. The sidewalks weren’t crowded, so she had no trouble spotting him. He had cut across to the other side, so it was a safe bet