“Doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Tell me anyway.”

He brooded for a moment, then said, “You don’t tell the cops?”

“No. That’s your business.”

He looked toward his dad and shook his head. “He’d tell.” But while Edison vehemently denied the accusation, Joshua held my attention, and very clearly held up two fingers, then pointed to the tip of one of his dirty running shoes.

Two Toes. My jaw dropped. Joshua was watching me. Watching me with bruises all over his face, maybe a few broken ribs, and God knows what else. Attacked in his sleep by the man who considered himself my guardian angel. “I thought Blue was going to protect you-”

“Blue wasn’t around,” Joshua said.

“I don’t know who attacked Roberta,” I said. “I don’t think it was-the one who attacked you, but I don’t know. I’m just trying to say that you and your dad need to watch each other’s backs-that’s too hard to do if you’re on the streets, Joshua. You’ll be safer here.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Maybe they can even help you get rid of that cough,” I said.

“Why should you care?”

“I owe somebody.”

“Lucas?”

“Yes.”

“You knew what the note meant…why’d you come looking for me?”

“Two reasons. I didn’t really know all of it, did I? And I’ve already told you the other reason.”

“You owe Lucas.”

“Right. So do you.”

“I’m so tired,” he said, but was completely docile after that.

31

NINAHOWELL,my pal in the Zoning Department, was delighted to be of help when I called her. Ray Aiken was acting city manager now, and her own boss was learning that administrative support personnel-which included secretaries-would be treated differently as long as Ray had anything to say about it. Nina’s work life wasn’t completely transformed but it had improved.

“How can I get in touch with Charlotte Brady?” I asked her.

“Allan Moffett’s former secretary?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Aiken asked her to come back. She’s one of his assistants now. Want me to transfer you to her?”

I said I did, and spent the next five minutes listening to Charlotte rave about her new boss. I was feeling a little impatient; I needed to get a story in on Moffett’s secret meetings, but I was also anxious to get back to following up on other matters.

“Ray Aiken always did all the real work around here anyway,” Charlotte said in what I hoped was conclusion.

“Workhorses don’t always make the best administrators,” I said. “I’m glad Ray is doing so well.”

“He’s great. Now what can I do for you?”

“I wondered if you might verify a few items for me.” I read off some of the information I had gathered from Ben’s calendar.

“So what you want to know is, did Allan Moffett call these meetings in defiance of the Brown Act?”

Can’t put anything over on Charlotte Brady. “That’s what I want to independently verify,” I said. “I already know it.”

“Until I talk to Mr. Aiken about this-hmmm. You know nothing will come of it, right? I mean, even under the terms of the Brown Act, there won’t be much you can do?”

“Of course not. In the first place, the law only concerns legislative bodies and their committees, not the city manager himself. But those meetings were held illegally, and Allan was the one who put them together. The public has a right to know that the man they entrusted over all those years abused that trust.”

“He’d never make a comeback, would he?”

“It would be doubtful at best.”

“Oh, I am so tempted! Tell you what. Off the record? You are right on target. That little bastard had more secret meetings than J. Edgar Hoover and his dressmaker.”

“Now, Charlotte…”

“But I can give you the name and number of someone who would probably love to verify it on the record.”

“Who might that be?”

“Why, Allan’s ex-wife.”

“I don’t know-”

“Are you kidding? Double check with whoever gave you those names in the first place. Nancy went to half of those meetings. She was a looker, and Allan liked to show her off.”

I called Claire first.

“Irene! I just read about Roberta in this morning’s paper!”

I talked to her about the events of the prior evening, then said, “I talked to Becky this morning. She told me Roberta’s color is better today, but otherwise there’s no change.”

“I should call Becky. Maybe I can help her somehow, make it easier for her to spend time with Roberta when she’s off duty.”

“She’d probably appreciate that. I have a favor to ask, too. Do you know who ‘N.M.’ is in Ben’s calendars?”

“Sure. Nancy Moffett. Allan’s ex-wife. He used to bring her everywhere. Boy, was he ever nasty to her in the divorce. Nancy and I are friends. Do you need her number?”

I called Nancy Moffett, and got an earful.

When I called a few of the other attendees at these secret meetings, I was able to truthfully say, “I’ve verified this from three different sources…” and ask if they had anything to add, or say in their own defense.

People will talk, especially if they think others are talking about them. I had everything in place on one side of the story. Moffett’s turn.

He surprised me by answering his phone. Every other time I had called in the past week, I got a machine, and though I had left messages, my calls were not returned.

“Mr. Moffett, this is Irene Kelly. I’ve talked to several people today who will go on record as saying that while you were city manager, you asked them to attend meetings which-as you were fully aware-were in violation of the Brown Act. I wanted to give you an opportunity to respond to these allegations.”

He let me list a few of the meetings before he said, “Well, Ms. Kelly-off the record, which is the only way I’ll talk to you-if you know your Brown Act so goddamn well, you know that the worst you could do would be to demand the reversal of some of the decisions made in those meetings, which is not likely, since they almost all fall under protected categories. And you also know that I can’t be held personally responsible for those violations. You know that my position was not subject to the Brown Act, but that even if I had been a council member, you’d have to sue the city, not me. So screw you.”

“Now, Allan, that’s a little hostile. I don’t even know how I find it within me to do this, but I’ll ask again, and for your own sake, this should beon the record, Allan. Do you have a response to the allegations?”

“No comment.”

“Okay, well, that takes care of that. I suppose I should mention that I completely understand that you probably can’t be jailed or sued for being underhanded, and no one I know wants to bother suing the city over the acts of a-well, over someone like you-and it is too late to undo most of the damage you’ve done. Still, the public will not be pleased to learn you spent the last twenty years sneaking around in clandestine meetings, privately deciding how to spend their tax dollars. They may have suspected something like this all along, but once it hits print, it’s sort of a declaration that you’ve made them out to be fools. It’s a mistake, Allan, to underestimate just how cranky the local citizenry may feel when that happens.”

“You miss the point, Kelly. I don’t plan to return to public life, and one of the best things about being a private citizen will be to tell you-you and your friends at theExpress -to fuck off.”

Thank goodness he told me to fuck off. It conveyed more than how he wished to say good-bye. Hearing that phrase, I knew he was nervous, maybe even scared. Moffett never uses ye old f-word unless he’s afraid. He’s fairly foul-mouthed as public servants go, and he’ll say all kinds of other nasty things, but Allan never uses that one unless he’s feeling rabbity. Sort of a “best defense is offensiveness” philosophy.