"Hello, Carla. Nice seeing you again."
Carla was not happy to find Hannibal and Murdock sitting in her living room. She was even less happy to see Hannibal waving a smoking cigar as he grinned at her. Murdock on the other hand was not grinning at all. Just looking. He had a vacant stare, and yet there was a defined anger creeping behind it. She didn't know which one of them upset her more.
"Colonel, put out that cigar. Then you can explain to me what the hell you're doing in my house!!"
Hannibal casually stretched his arm over to a ficus and slowly and deliberately stubbed the cigar out in the dirt. Leaving the butt in the pot, he stared at Carla with a challenge.
"We need to see Stockwell. Now."
"If you're looking for Peck, he's not here. And we don't know where he is."
Hannibal shook his head. He had thoroughly enjoyed her consternation at their appearance, but now it was time to get down to business. "We need to talk to Stockwell. We know where Face was and what he was doing. None of us have time for playing games. Now call him."
There was something in Hannibal's tone that made Carla move immediately to the telephone.
BA 
had finished up with the hotel clerk, and was now heading over for a meeting with the CPA. He had a pretty good description now - somehow the clerk had managed to remember several small details that she hadn't before. He couldn't figure out the glove thing, though.
The CPA was also very helpful. Because Face had included his information in the packet, it hadn't taken long to find various transactions that provided good leads. If Face noticed inquiry information on his accounts, it might be bad, but Hannibal had figured he would be too involved in other things to be looking too closely.
"There's more that could be found, but I'm afraid it would be illegal for me to do that. You understand, don't you?"
"Sure, man, no problem." BA knew a few people himself. Ones that he knew couldn't be trusted around other people but, because they knew better, would be totally honest with BA and his friends. He took the information the CPA had found and headed back to the hotel. He needed to check in with Hannibal.
The air conditioner in the small motel room didn't work. Houston was a humid 86 degrees and his room was like an oven. If he hadn't purchased his plane ticket at the last moment, he might have been able to get a return flight the same day. But he wouldn't make reservations for these trips; no paper trail back to LA. He wanted Stockwell to think he was actually staying in the cities he mailed his little gifts from.
He had considered calling the hotel manager about the problem, but decided he didn't want to call any attention to himself. He'd taken a couple of cold showers but it hadn't helped much. He'd tried walking, but it was almost as bad outside as in. There was no escaping it. In the end, he gave up and flopped down on top of the bed. Reaching over, he turned out the light and removed his gloves, laying them carefully on the night stand, ready to go on as soon as he awoke.
In the parking lot, several young men stood around their cars, smoking, drinking, eyeing the vehicles in the lot. They watched carefully as the lights went off in each of the motel room windows. They grinned darkly at each other. Time for some fun...
He woke up, alert. Someone was working the lock on his door. Stockwell? It couldn't be. Could it? He waited, tensing, seeing the silhouette of the intruder as he slipped through the opening door. Then another similar shadow. How many were there, for God's sake? Quietly he sat up, ready. Without thinking, he reached over and flipped on the light. And all hell broke loose.
"And here's one for goofiest arrests category..."
BA smiled. He liked hearing this radio talk show. They always picked up on strange things that happened around the country. And some of the arrests were really strange.
"It appears that a man was driven temporarily insane by the heat in Houston late last night. He was staying at a motel whose air conditioning broke down and he proceeded to totally destroy his room, as well as attacking some late night party goers. Police say furniture was tossed through windows, and every mirror in the place was smashed. Several other persons received undisclosed injuries. When police arrested the man, he begged them to let him put on - get this, in 80 plus heat - begged them to let him put on his GLOVES. Thinking this would calm the agitated man down, they did so - only to have him unlock his handcuffs and the squad car door and escape moments later. Can you believe it? Police are still looking for the guy, who is described as..."
The description could have fit any number of guys, and he had no indication that Face was anywhere but LA, but when he heard about handcuffs and the gloves it sent chills up his spine. He would put in another call to Hannibal.
He knew it must have happened again. He woke up in a parking lot, behind a dumpster. He remembered going to bed. Vaguely, he remembered a door opening, uniforms and flashing red lights. God, what had he done now? He'd been so careful, so in control. He stood up slowly, looking around. Did he have his wallet? Thank God it was in his back pocket. Whatever involvement he'd had with the police, they hadn't gotten around to taking his personal affects. He tried to remember more of what happened, but it wouldn't come back to him. He was beginning to worry that these incidents would thwart his mission. That couldn't be allowed. He had to finish this. The guilty had to be brought to justice. All of them. He couldn't rest until that was done. And he wanted to rest.
He stood carefully, brushing himself off. He needed to find someplace to stay until he knew how badly the police wanted him...
Stockwell had agreed to meet with them, but put them off for another three days. Hannibal wasn't happy; he knew Stockwell wasn't just pulling a power play. He and Murdock immediately changed motels, watching for anyone following. They didn't forget who they were dealing with. Or what he had to lose.
He had spoken with BA every day since leaving LA. He was as puzzled by the gloves as BA had been. He'd also given BA the go-ahead to get his 'friends' working on Face's paper trail. He wasn't happy about it, but they needed that information and they needed it now.
When BA had told him about the incident in Houston, Hannibal was skeptical. It was probably just some poor nut case that couldn't take the heat, as the police surmised. But BA was not so easily put off.
"There's something there, Hannibal. I mean, this guy got out of handcuffs and a police car. How many guys can do that? And then the gloves too? That hotel clerk said Face even signed in wearing those gloves, and when I went back and talked to the bellhops and room service people, they said the same thing. The maid said he had them on first thing in the morning."
"Okay, BA, okay. I know it sounds too coincidental. But the guy down in Houston - from the way you describe his behavior, there's no way he's anywhere near functional. If that were Face, it would mean he'd have to have gotten from LA to Houston, and this other guy would never have been able to do that. I'd like to believe we'd found him, BA, but it just doesn't sound plausible."
'I don't want it to be Face,' he thought.
Murdock was of another mind. When he had heard about the gloves at the hotel, he had an inkling of what might be going on. Never having lived in a psychiatric ward, BA and Hannibal would not have immediately caught the implications. When Hannibal told him about Houston, Murdock was convinced.
"It's Face, Hannibal. I know it is."
Hannibal started to repeat what he had told BA, but Murdock would have none of it.
"I don't care what he was like at that time, Hannibal. It doesn't mean he's like that ALL the time. It's gotta have something to do with that glove thing. Remember, BA said the guy was begging the cops to let him put his gloves on. And right after they let him, he suddenly has it together enough to escape? It's gotta be him, Colonel."
"All right, Murdock. Let me see what I can find out about it, okay? I won't rule it out - but I'm not racing down to Houston to look for him, either. Not yet."
