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Chapter67
DECKER AND LANCASTERWERESEATEDacross from Bill Peyton in his small office at the American Grill. Peyton was a big man, about six-two, two-twenty, with thick shoulders and muscular arms. His gray hair was cut in a bristly flattop turning silver at the temples. In his early sixties now, he looked like he could bench-press a truck.
“Thanks for meeting with us,” said Lancaster.
“No problem. How is Ms. Katz doing?”
“She hasn’t regained consciousness,” said Lancaster. “But the doctors are still hopeful.”
Decker slid a photo out of a slip of plastic and handed it across to Peyton. “Do you recognize this man?”
Peyton fingered the photo. “No, who is he?”
“The man who attempted to murder your boss. He was killed during the encounter. His name is Eric Tyson. Former military.”
“No, never seen him before, certainly not here. I can ask around to the staff and see. But the fact is, Ms. Katz didn’t come here much.”
“But she still owns the place,” pointed out Lancaster.
“She does. But in the grand scheme of her empire here, we’re small potatoes.” He grinned briefly. “And she trusted me to run the place, just like her husband did.”
“You’ve been here from the get-go,” said Decker.
“That’s right. David Katz hired me.”
“I guess you’ve run restaurants before?”
“I know my way around the business.”
“It can be challenging. Lots of restaurants fail.”
“Yes, they can. And we’ve had some new competition come in. But we’re holding our own.”
“Were you around when the place was being built?” asked Decker.
“I was, yes. David brought me on early enough, so I could have input in the process.”
“How was David Katz to work for?”
“I always found him professional and focused. Later, I found his wife to be the same.” He looked at his watch. “Anything else?”
“What will happen to the business if Rachel Katz doesn’t recover?” asked Decker.
“I have no idea,” said Peyton. “I guess that depends on what’s in her will and what her relatives want to do. I hope we don’t get to that point.”
“Absolutely,” said Decker. “Well, thanks for your time.” He pulled out another photo of Eric Tyson from his pocket and handed it to Peyton. “And let us know if anyone remembers seeing that guy around.”
Peyton took the photo without looking at it. “Will do.”
They left and went outside.
“Well?” said Lancaster.
Decker took out the plastic slip with the photo inside. “Looks like a beautiful print on the photo. We’ll run it and see if Mr. Peyton is who he says he is.”
***
Decker dropped Lancaster and the photo off at the station and continued on to the hospital, where Mars was once more ensconced in Katz’s hospital room.
