Cord sat slumped in the chair in the interrogation room, but he was far from vanquished. A sly grin played around the corners of his mouth, especially when he looked through the glass window to the anxious detectives in the other room.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Lenny asked the young policewoman again.
Dressed in her own clothes – jeans and a warm sweater – Penny nodded. "I'm fine," she assured Lenny. "Back to normal now I'm warm." She glanced into Mike's office. "How's Mike?"
"He should be at the hospital," Lenny grumbled, "but you know how stubborn he is."
"Only from hearsay," Penny reminded the psychologist. "Tonight is the first time I ever met him." She had been unable to verbalise her relief when she saw that Mike was alive. The bullet proof vest he had worn under his coat had stopped the bullet. It had knocked the wind out of him and left him at best badly bruised and at worst with possible cracked ribs, but the older man had brushed off the concern and refused to go to the hospital. At the moment, Jeannie – the real Jeannie – was hovering over him worriedly, for Mike was pale and in obvious pain.
As Lenny straightened up, Mike came to his feet, slowly and carefully. "All right, let's crack him," he ordered. "Penny; Jeannie, I want you both to come with me. Let's see if we can shake him." Mike led the way to the interrogation room. Lenny followed closely behind, Lessing on his heels.
As Mike entered the room, Cord smirked and for an instant, the easy-going lieutenant wanted to smash other man's face in. But just for an instant; Mike wasn't that kind of cop, that kind of man. He stepped aside and Penny entered the room and Cord licked his lips. Penny shuddered in distaste. She, too, stepped aside and watched closely as Cord realised that he had been duped. Jeannie and Penny were a lot alike, but Penny was younger and now that they were together, Cord could see that Penny lacked Jeannie's vitality. He had been fooled by his own mind, remembering Jeannie as she had been 20 years before, not projecting how she would look now. He started to lunge to his feet, anger flooding his veins, but Lessing pushed into the room and used his weight to subdue the prisoner once more.
"Where is Steve Keller?" Mike asked, his voice as dispassionate as he could make it.
"You'll never know, old man," Cord sneered, recovering himself and realising that he still held the ace.
The tension in the room could have been cut by a knife. Cord was the only person who knew where Steve was, and there was very little they could legally do to make him tell them the location. Cord was a tough con, who had spent most of his life behind bars. The threat of prison did nothing to faze him. Mike put a restraining hand on Jeannie's arm. Cord noticed. "Let the little lady try it," he offered, sneering. "I'd like to get my hands on her." His leer was more than suggestive. This time, it was Lenny who put a hand on Mike's arm.
"Don't, Mike," he warned.
The tension eased slightly in the muscles beneath his hand. Mike glanced at Lenny and nodded. "Where is he, Cord?" Mike asked again.
"Somewhere you'll never find him," Cord retorted.
Turning abruptly, Mike ushered the two women from the room. Lenny and Lessing followed, leaving Cord alone. "I want to see every item he had on him," Mike ordered harshly.
"There wasn't much," Lessing offered and he fetched the manila envelope that contained the prisoner's personal effects and tipped it out on the desk.
Lessing was right; there wasn't much. There was a worn leather wallet with about $30 in it; a few pennies of change, a hotel key from a down-town dive and two other keys. One of the keys was very old fashioned, long and heavy, made of brass and had no doubt once been shiny. The other was smaller and most likely for a padlock.
Gingerly, Mike picked up the old key. He examined it closely, and then tapped it thoughtfully against his fingers. "What do you bet this opens some old municipal building?" he mused aloud. "Somewhere unused?"
"Somewhere in Golden Gate Park?" Lessing asked.
"Could be," Mike agreed. "Let's start there. What is there that is unused?"
"Not the Music School," Penny suggested.
"No, definitely not," Mike agreed. "It's too well frequented."
"Same for the DeYoung Museum," Jeannie mentioned. "Or the Academy of Sciences."
"The Japanese Garden, conservatory and arboretum are out, too," Lenny agreed. "And Kezar Stadium has been rebuilt, so not there."
"What about the windmills?" Jeannie asked, suddenly excited. "They aren't used any more."
"Good idea!" Mike exclaimed. He glanced at Jeannie, remembering, as she did, the times they had spent in the park when she was a child, exploring round about the fascinating buildings. He had always regretted that they had been unable to go inside and explore them more. "Let's get down there."
"What about Cord?" Lenny asked.
"What about him?" Mike retorted. "I'm not gonna ask him anything! He'd only lie to us and I would far rather that he stayed here and sweated it out." Mike glanced across to the interrogation room and saw Cord looking at him. He smiled slightly. "I have a good feeling about this," he commented as the prisoner frowned at him.
"I'm coming, too," Jeannie announced, in a tone that implied she would brook no arguments this time.
While Mike had his doubts as to the merits of that idea – they did not know if Steve was alive or not – he knew he couldn't refuse Jeannie this. She had been incredibly brave and resilient during this whole crisis, but she was reaching the end of her tether and the last thing he wanted was for her to break down crying or shouting. That would give Cord far too much satisfaction. "All right," he agreed. "Penny, I'd like you to come, too," he added. If the worst had happened, it would do Jeannie good to have a woman to lean on.
"I'm coming, too," Lenny declared and Mike simply nodded. With Lessing also in tow, they headed down to the parking garage, leaving Cord staring after them.