tell in one day, and Dortmunder felt he might already have overdosed. “Of course not,” he said. “You know me, Wally, I’m one hundred percent nonviolent.”
“Okay, John.” Smiling, animated, Wally said, “You know, finding Mr. Fairbanks was very interesting, very different from other stuff I do.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Usually, if you’re looking for somebody,” Wally explained, “you go through the airline computer systems, probably United Airlines, most of the others run through that. And you go to the big hotel chain computers, like Hilton or Marriot or Holiday Inn. And the car rental companies, and like that. But not with Mr. Fairbanks.”
“Oh, no?”
“He doesn’t travel the way other people do. He has all kinds of offices and homes all over the world, and they’re all tied together with fax lines and phone lines and protected cables and all kinds of stuff, so he doesn’t stay in hotels. And when he goes someplace, he doesn’t take a commercial flight. He travels in one of his own airplanes —”
“One of,” Dortmunder echoed.
“Oh, sure,” Wally said. “He’s got five I know about, I mean passenger airplanes, not cargo, and I think there may be some more over in Europe he isn’t using right now.”
“Uh huh,” Dortmunder said.
“So I have to track him with the flight plans his pilots give the towers.”
“Uh huh.”
“And this,” Andy said, “is the guy you’re gonna hunt down like a wounded deer, am I right, John?”
“Yes,” Dortmunder said. To Wally he said, “Tell me more.”
“Well, they send out his schedule,” Wally said. “His staff does, to his different homes and offices. Just a rough schedule of where he’s going and what he’s doing. They fax it, mostly, and they fax the changes to it, he’s always changing it, so everybody knows where he is and how to get in touch with him.”
“That’s one nice thing, John,” Andy said. “Here you’ve got a guy, he tells the world where he’s gonna be.”
“Good,” Dortmunder said. “Then he can tell me. Wally, where is he?”
There was a manila envelope on the floor beside Wally’s chair. Stooping now, with many grunts and false starts, Wally picked up this envelope and took from it two sheets of paper, as he said, “You just want for the rest of May, I guess.”
“Sure,” Dortmunder said.
“Okay.” Wally studied the papers. “Well, today,” he said, “he’s in London.”
“That’s fast,” Dortmunder said. “He was on Long Island last Thursday.”
“Wait for it,” Andy said.
Wally said, “He got to London this morning.”
“How long is he gonna be there?” Dortmunder asked, thinking he really didn’t want to have to go all the way to London to get his ring back.
“Day after tomorrow,” Wally said, “he’s going to Nairobi.”
“Nairobi.” Dortmunder didn’t like the sound of that. “That’s in Africa someplace, isn’t it?”
“Uh huh.”
“Is he ever coming back to the States?”
“Saturday,” Wally said, “because he’s going to testify at a congressional hearing next Monday, a week from today.”
Andy said, “What you’ve got there, John, you’ve got your basic moving target.”
Dortmunder said, “London, Nairobi, Washington, all this week. He’s going to Washington on Saturday?”
“On Monday. He’s going to spend the weekend at Hilton Head, in South Carolina.”
“Nice for him,” Dortmunder said. “How long’s he gonna be in Washington?”
“Until Wednesday. Then he goes to Chicago for two days, and then Sydney for the next —”
“Sydney? That’s a person.”
“Sydney, Australia, John, it’s a city. And then the Monday after that he flies back and goes to Las Vegas, and then he —”
Dortmunder said, “Are we still in May?”
“Oh, sure, John,” Wally said. “The schedule says he’ll be in Las Vegas two weeks from today.”
“I’m almost feeling sorry for this guy,” Dortmunder
“Okay, John.” Smiling, animated, Wally said, “You know, finding Mr. Fairbanks was very interesting, very different from other stuff I do.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Usually, if you’re looking for somebody,” Wally explained, “you go through the airline computer systems, probably United Airlines, most of the others run through that. And you go to the big hotel chain computers, like Hilton or Marriot or Holiday Inn. And the car rental companies, and like that. But not with Mr. Fairbanks.”
“Oh, no?”
“He doesn’t travel the way other people do. He has all kinds of offices and homes all over the world, and they’re all tied together with fax lines and phone lines and protected cables and all kinds of stuff, so he doesn’t stay in hotels. And when he goes someplace, he doesn’t take a commercial flight. He travels in one of his own airplanes —”
“One of,” Dortmunder echoed.
“Oh, sure,” Wally said. “He’s got five I know about, I mean passenger airplanes, not cargo, and I think there may be some more over in Europe he isn’t using right now.”
“Uh huh,” Dortmunder said.
“So I have to track him with the flight plans his pilots give the towers.”
“Uh huh.”
“And this,” Andy said, “is the guy you’re gonna hunt down like a wounded deer, am I right, John?”
“Yes,” Dortmunder said. To Wally he said, “Tell me more.”
“Well, they send out his schedule,” Wally said. “His staff does, to his different homes and offices. Just a rough schedule of where he’s going and what he’s doing. They fax it, mostly, and they fax the changes to it, he’s always changing it, so everybody knows where he is and how to get in touch with him.”
“That’s one nice thing, John,” Andy said. “Here you’ve got a guy, he tells the world where he’s gonna be.”
“Good,” Dortmunder said. “Then he can tell me. Wally, where is he?”
There was a manila envelope on the floor beside Wally’s chair. Stooping now, with many grunts and false starts, Wally picked up this envelope and took from it two sheets of paper, as he said, “You just want for the rest of May, I guess.”
“Sure,” Dortmunder said.
“Okay.” Wally studied the papers. “Well, today,” he said, “he’s in London.”
“That’s fast,” Dortmunder said. “He was on Long Island last Thursday.”
“Wait for it,” Andy said.
Wally said, “He got to London this morning.”
“How long is he gonna be there?” Dortmunder asked, thinking he really didn’t want to have to go all the way to London to get his ring back.
“Day after tomorrow,” Wally said, “he’s going to Nairobi.”
“Nairobi.” Dortmunder didn’t like the sound of that. “That’s in Africa someplace, isn’t it?”
“Uh huh.”
“Is he ever coming back to the States?”
“Saturday,” Wally said, “because he’s going to testify at a congressional hearing next Monday, a week from today.”
Andy said, “What you’ve got there, John, you’ve got your basic moving target.”
Dortmunder said, “London, Nairobi, Washington, all this week. He’s going to Washington on Saturday?”
“On Monday. He’s going to spend the weekend at Hilton Head, in South Carolina.”
“Nice for him,” Dortmunder said. “How long’s he gonna be in Washington?”
“Until Wednesday. Then he goes to Chicago for two days, and then Sydney for the next —”
“Sydney? That’s a person.”
“Sydney, Australia, John, it’s a city. And then the Monday after that he flies back and goes to Las Vegas, and then he —”
Dortmunder said, “Are we still in May?”
“Oh, sure, John,” Wally said. “The schedule says he’ll be in Las Vegas two weeks from today.”
“I’m almost feeling sorry for this guy,” Dortmunder
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