He was not at his creative best and he could have made mistakes. He asked Angela to keep an eye on Beth while he patrolled the city in a 1954 Rolls Royce with a white body, beige leather interior, whitewall tires, and a chrome grill. It navigated the San Francisco hills quite nicely and it was much more comfortable than the two-seater Mercedes, which he realized he had left in Union Square a few days earlier. He now had time to think. He would rather have avoided brooding over Mr. Go’s brain scans suddenly showing activity in Beth’s presence. In truth, it was both good and bad news. Was he in love with her? Doubtful. More than likely he was excited by the prospect that she lasted longer than other ephemera. What troubled him was that this part of Go’s brain could show activity given the proper stimulus, but it hadn’t when around Angela. Everything looked fine in the city until he got to the Financial District. A group of people was gathered on the street outside the 555 California building on the corner of Pine and Kearny.
