Steve pulled the LTD into the lot. He and Mike had intended to go into the winery first, but the tasting room did not open until 1:30. He had done his best to make their SFPD car inconspicuous, parking between a large pickup truck and a VW bus, but anyone taking a closer look would have no trouble identifying it as a police vehicle.
The barn was obviously old, but exceptionally well cared for. The clapboard building stood on a rubble stone foundation that looked like the original. Neatly maintained flower beds filled with yellow, orange, and red poppies alternating with mature walnut trees, surrounded the structure. The barn itself was painted a deep shade of forest green with snowy white trim. The midday sun glinted of a shiny standing-seamed copper roof that had yet to develop its verdigris patina. The clearing and paddock behind gave way to the wooded foothills of the Santa Cruz mountains.
"Looks like a post card," Mike said as he took at the tableau.
Steve nodded and opened the car door. His nose was assaulted with the smell of manure. "Smells like a barnyard."
Mike joined him in a chuckle, "If it walks like a horse and smells like a horse..."
The thing that struck the pair as they walked to the barn was the quiet. Even in the dead of night, San Francisco could never achieve the absence of sound that enveloped them. The only noise that broke the still were occasional bird songs and the light breeze upsetting a canopy of verdant leaves.
A young woman in boots, jeans and a flannel shirt approached them as they got closer to the barn. She had on an old white Stetson and her brown hair hung down in long braids on either side of her head.
"Howdy fellas. I'm Kate. How can I help you?"
"Well howdy back at ya, Kate. I'm looking for a place to have a party for my granddaughter." Mike began. It was the story they had agreed upon after leaving the Sherriff's Office.
Steve spoke up, "My daughter. She's nuts about horses and her mom read about this place somewhere. She sent us to check it out." Even as he spoke, it sounded lame in his head. "Pops over there is paying the bill so he insisted on tagging along. He spoils the daylights out of her."
The woman smiled at both of them. "I guess the first question is, how old is your daughter? We do parties, but the youngest needs to be at least 5."
"That'll work, she'll be eight in a couple of weeks."
"Super. Next question, has she ever been around a real horse? They can be pretty big and scary to an eight-year-old."
"No real horses, but she's been on pony rides before."
"Should work. How many kids we talking about?"
"5. Jeannie and her 4 best friends." Steve answered.
"Mike smiled at the name and chimed in with a question, "Is it safe?"
"Absolutely. We'll take every precaution and put the kids on the gentlest mounts we have. I can give you a brochure that explains all our safety precautions. We have lots of experience."
Steve grinned and looked at Mike, who nodded, "Sound perfect. How do we book a party?"
"I'm just a hand here, you'll have to see Pete, he's the general manager. He hasn't come down from the big house yet from lunch."
"The big house?"
"Yeah, that's what we call the house the Garrod's built when they bought this place. The tasting room is behind it on the Vineyard side. Looks like some kind of mansion. Too fancy for me. I liked the bunk house the Cooper's had when they owned this place."
"How long you been working here. You don't seem that old."
"I started mucking out the barns when I was ten. Stayed on after the Garrod's took over. The family is a little..." she stuck her nose in the air and turned in a circle, pretending to be snobbish, "But Pete's ok. Lemme see if I can find him. You can either wait in the office or have a look around and I'll give him a call. He might be tied up over at the Vineyard."
"He manages both? Seems like a pretty big job."
"He shares the Vineyard operations with Georg, his brother. But he's been gone a lot lately, so Pete's been filing in."
"Wow, busy guy." Steve said in response. He turned to Mike, "Hey Pops, why don't you wait in the office and get your checkbook out while I look around out here. Just give me a holler when you need me."
Mike gave Steve a 'keep it up, funny boy' look but answered, "Sounds like a plan."
"Cool. If you'll just follow me to the office, it's in the back of the barn. I'll show you where you can sit a spell while I make a call." She turned to Steve. "You can walk around and go in the barn, but stay away from the stalls on the left, my boys don't know you and they might get a little frisky."
"Your boys?"
"John, Paul, George, and Ringo."
"The Beatles?" Steve laughed.
"Yeah, Pete let me name em. Those 4 are a handful. But don't worry, we would never put an 8-year-old on one of them. We usually put kids on the girls, three of them are out in the paddock, you can visit them if you like. They are very friendly."
"I have to ask," Steve replied, still chuckling, "What are the girls names?"
"Patty, Maxine and Laverne."
"Of course," Mike said, now laughing with Steve, as he followed Kate to the office. "The Andrew's Sisters."
Things were working out exactly how they had hoped. Steve now had a chance to look around unobserved. If they were lucky, Mike might get a chance to check out the office if Kate left him in there alone. Steve waited till the others were in the barn and out of site before he started his search. He didn't know how much time he would have.
Next to the paddock was an outbuilding that looked like a garage or an oversized tool shed. Steve casually peeked in the small side window and made his first discovery. A white pickup truck was parked facing nose-out in the structure. He heard the horses whinny in the barn and ducked around the back of the building, squeezing between the cab wall and the paddock rail. From his hidden position, he saw Kate walk from the barn with keys in her hand. She slid up the oversized front door.
Steve couldn't see what she was doing, but heard the engine turn over. He repositioned himself so he could surreptitiously observe the departing vehicle. When the truck pulled out, his suspicions were confirmed. It was definitely the truck he had seen leaving the scene of Natalie Thompson's murder, complete with brand and a mud-covered license plate. He was glad they hadn't bothered to wash it.
While he was waiting for the vehicle to clear the bend, he felt a shove against the middle of his back.
00000
Mike sat in an old leather chair and pretended to read a three-fold brochure about horse riding safety. He was really listened to Kate as she spoke to an unknown party on the phone. She did not look happy and slammed the phone down a little harder than she had intended.
"Sorry about that. I know I'm a hired hand, but they don't have to treat me like it. That man..." she stopped herself before she misspoke."
"What man?" Mike aske in his most sympathetic tone.
"The old man, Mr. Garrod, he's just, um, let's just say held not the nicest person to work for, Georg is just like him too. Mean. If it wasn't for Pete, I'd be outta here. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, here I am airing dirty laundry while you're trying to hire us for a party."
"That's OK," Mike responded "Seems like I'm hiring you and Pete, not the old man and you seem swell."
Kate blushed. "Why thank you. Bottom line, I have to drive out into the Vineyard and track down Pete, he's checking one of the fields. Like it would have been such an inconvenience to send somebody from the house." She raised her hands in disgust. "I'll never get done my regular work today."
"How long is that going to take?"
"No more than 15 minutes, if you've got the time."
"For you, I'll make the time."
Kate's cheeks colored again. "You're sweet. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Mike hoped Steve's inspection wouldn't be compromised by Kate's quick exit. In the meantime, he would have 15 minutes to look around the office. He was on shaky ground legally, without a warrant, but he didn't intent to dig too deeply in the short time he had.
Mike stood up and took a cursory look around the room. The wall by the door was decorated with various pieces of old tack and a long rope fashioned into a lasso. He went to the desk and picked up a stack of papers, carefully thumbing through them. They were nothing but contracts and receipts. He moved on.
The near wall was covered with a series of framed sepia-photos. By the clothes, they looked like they went back to the turn of the century, when Garrod Farms was Cooper Farms. From what he could see, the barn looked identical, except for the sign and a new copper roof.
On the opposing wall there were more modern prints, color this time, of the farm as it looked recently. There was a print of the newspaper photo Steve had found in Miriam's journal with the framed Klimt hanging in the background. It was easier to see in the color photo. There was also a professional family portrait. It was older, but Mike couldn't tell how old. It showed a man and woman, who seemed to be the younger version of the couple in the news photo and two small boys. He pulled it off the wall. Having had family portraits taken in the past, he was sure the name of the studio was somewhere on the picture.
He popped the back off the picture frame and removed the carboard filler. Sure enough, the photo was stamped: Hanover Studio, 1515 Koenig Strasse, Mosel, Deutschland. Even better, someone had hand written Claus & Maria Meyer and family, 1939 in pencil below the stamp.
Mike slapped the desk in victory. Sometimes easily overlooked items were the key to solving cases. He'd found a name, Claus Meyer. A name that could be traced through German Military records. He took a sheet of note paper off the desk and wrote Claus Meyer, shoving it in his pocket before carefully reassembling the picture and hanging it on the wall. Interpol and DoJ could have the name. They were the Nazi hunters. He hoped Steve had found something outside that would help them solve a murder.