“You need something for the pain, Rondo?” Decker asked.
“Demerol helps…but it knocks me out.” A slight smile. “Didn’t die before…ain’t gonna die now.”
“Tell me about Martin Cruces.”
“Cruces…” A nod. “He was there.”
“You’re sure?”
A nod. He closed his eyes. Under the lids, his orbs were moving rapidly. “It was Denny…he said…Denny said, ‘Martin’…I thought he meant me.” He paused, his eyes quivering. “I turned around…he exploded…Denny did.” He opened his eyes, weary and bloodshot. “It was Cruces. I’m positive.”
“Weren’t the shooters wearing masks?”
“No…not Joe…not Cruces. Wish they did. I see their ugly mugs every time I close my eyes.”
“And you’re sure that it was Cruces who shot Denny Orlando?”
Again, he closed his eyes. “I…I don’t know who fired…” A pause, then he opened his eyelids. “But Cruces was there.” He readjusted his position, but he was still in pain.
“That would make sense,” Decker told him. “Someone overheard a gangbanger talk about the murder. He mentioned Joe Pine, calling him José Pinon, and said that he ran out of ammo, that he didn’t kill Gil Kaffey. He said that Martin was pissed. Logically, I thought he meant you since you were missing.”
“Who’s the banger?” Martin asked.
“The kid named Alejandro Brand. His grandmother is named Cruz, so he might be related to Cruces. Are you sure you don’t know him?”
Martin shook his head no.
“Brand is a member of Bodega 12th Street gang. So is Pine. We think Cruces is as well. I can’t understand why Guy would hire thugs to guard him or his property.”
“Guy…he wanted to…to give back.”
“By hiring thugs?”
“He hired all kinds…like Paco…to give back.”
“Is that how Ana got the job?”
He nodded.
“And you got the job with Kaffey through Ana?”
A shake of the head said no. “Through Paco.”
“You met Paco before Ana?”
“No. I met Ana here…in Ponceville. She told me about…her uncle. He worked in L.A. and could get her a paying job as a maid. She was working in the fields before…stoop labor. I told her to take it.”
He took in a deep breath and when he let it out, he winced.
“Hard to get work if you’re illegal. Later, Paco set me up with Neptune Brady…so Ana and I could be together…no one knew about us. I didn’t want Brady to find out…Ana to get deported.”
“I understand.”
“Guy wanted to give back. It bit him in the ass.”
“Neptune Brady said Guy hired thugs because they were cheap.”
He thought about it. “Maybe that, too.”
“So you don’t know Alejandro Brand?”
“No.”
“How about Esteban Cruz?”
“Another Cruz? What does he look like?”
Decker tried to remember Marge’s description. “Scrawny kid around seventeen.”
Martin thought about it. “No…don’t sound familiar.”
“Joe Pine was young.”
“Twenties—not seventeen.”
“What about Cruces?”
Martin grimaced in pain. “Twenties, too. Don’t know any teens.”
The nurse came in and signaled five more minutes. Decker said, “I’m waiting for backup protection to watch the room. Brubeck, Tim England, and I are rotating shifts. England’s also looking for some volunteers in town, but I’ve requested professionals from Fresno. Willy and I won’t leave until we’ve got a system in place, Rondo.”
“That’s good, but I got my own system.” A smile formed on his lips as he pulled a hunk of steel from under his pillow. “Your protection is good, but a gun is even better.”
THIRTY-FIVE
AFTER REACHING THE hallowed Halls of Records at twenty minutes before closing time, Marge and Oliver rushed from floor to floor until they reached the correct department just as the door was closing. Their pleas fell on the ears of Adrianna Whitcomb, a forty-year-old, good-looking blonde.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Marge told the clerk.
They were talking in the anteroom of a basic government space: three teller windows with glass partitions, an institutional table holding brochures that no one ever read, and a floor of green and black terrazzo.
“You caught me at a good time.” She smoothed out the hips of her black pants suit. “I have a dinner date at six with nothing to do until then. Well, not exactly a date. What’s the street address of the business?”
Oliver gave her the address of Ernie’s El Matador. “Where do you eat around here?”
“Tonight we’re going to A Thousand Cranes. My girlfriend and me. She’s an assistant district attorney.” Her smile turned sly. “Would you care to join us, Detective? You two might have a lot in common.”
Oliver smiled back. “I’d love to join you two, but I have a meeting in the Valley. If you wouldn’t mind giving me your number, we’ll make it another time.”
“She might not be available.”
“We could work something out.”
“Well, we’ll see about that.” A pause. “Wait here. I’ll see what I can dig up.”
She disappeared behind the door and the area fell silent.
“You’re having a good day,” Marge whispered.
Oliver grinned. “Hey, when you sink enough shafts, you’re bound to hit oil.”
Adrianna returned a few minutes later and handed a printout to Marge. “Wish all my work was that easy. Anything else I can do for you?”
Oliver took out his business card. “In case you have the sudden need to contact a detective.”
Adrianna took it. “You never know.”
“And do you have a card in return…in case I have to come back?”
“Just call the office,” she told him.
Oliver tried to hide his disappointment. “Thanks.”
“Call the office if you want the office,” Adrianna said with a crooked smile. “But if you want to call me, my cell is on the top of the printout.”
“RONDO PUTS CRUCES at the scene,” Decker said over the phone. “Pick him up.”
“If you think the timing’s right, absolutely,” Marge said.
“What does that mean?”
“Do we really know if Rondo Martin is reliable? He still could be involved, Pete. It could be a conspiracy between him, Ana Mendez, Paco, and Riley Karns.”
“Why would they conspire to murder the Kaffeys?”
“Same reason you think Cruces and Pine did the killings. Someone paid them to do the hit. I’m looking at how defense would spin it. The bloody prints taken from the scene matched with Rondo Martin, Ana Mendez, and Riley Karns. Sure, they admit being at the scene, but in what capacity? If we had something, anything, to back up Martin’s story, I’d go for it. But since we don’t, maybe we should wait until all the forensic evidence comes in.”
Decker said, “I don’t want to lose this guy. Surveillance isn’t foolproof.”
“You’re certainly right about that. I’m just worried that if we bring him in without forensics, it’ll alert him and we’ll be more likely to lose him. Because we don’t have anything to keep him other than Rondo Martin’s say-so. How strong is that?”
“How far is Lee from unsealing Cruces’s juvenile record?”
“I don’t know. We’re headed back to the station house now.”
“Okay. We’ll give it another twenty-four hours to round up a set of prints. By that time, I’ll be back home. Keep a watch over Cruces. If it looks like he’s taking evasive action, grab him.”
“I hear you. I’ll tell Messing to beef it up.”
“Good. What’s happening with Ernie’s El Matador?”
“The bar is owned by the Baker Corporation.”
“Who the hell is that? And what kind of corporation owns a s
eedy bar? Sounds like a dummy corporation to me. Did you check if it’s a DBA?”
“Doing Business As? We didn’t have time to check it out. I bet Lee could do that kind of search on the computers in the squad room.”
“Keep me informed. And whatever you do, don’t lose Cruces.”
“Hopefully, we’ll get a set of his prints. I’m just trying to keep egg off our faces.”
“If Cruces rabbits, it won’t be just egg, Margie. It’ll be a whole damn soufflé.”
WANG SAID, “BAKER Corporation is a subsidiary of Kaffey Industries.”
“You’re kidding!” Marge opened and closed her mouth. “Kaffey owns Baker?”
“Read for yourself, but don’t get too excited. I’m sure Kaffey owns a lot of different businesses.”
“And among the businesses is the bar where Martin Cruces got his alibi.” She skimmed through the pages. “Does this make sense to you, Lee? That Kaffey Industries—a major development corporation that’s responsible for malls nationwide—would bother buying a seedy bar in Van Nuys?”
“Someone bought the bar using Kaffey money—or Baker Corporation money.”
Marge said, “Does the Baker Corporation have officers?”
“If it’s a DBA, probably not. Let me do a little more digging. Or you could just call Grant Kaffey and ask him about it.”
“I’m not calling Grant. He’s still a major suspect.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s back in Newport Beach. We don’t have to check in on him because he calls every two hours and asks about Gil. If he’s truly a concerned brother, I admire him. If he’s faking concern, let me tell you something. He’s a lousy actor.”
CARMEN MONTENEGRO HAD changed into something black and sexyish without going over the edge. She had put on just a dash of makeup and had drawn her hair into a knot allowing little curls to frame the side of her face. She was every high school boy’s fantasy: a TILF—Teacher I’d Like to Fuck. The only giveaway that the dinner had some business content was her briefcase-like purse.
Oliver had chosen a blue blazer and khaki pants. As they walked to the table, he held out the chair for her. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” She scooted the chair closer to the table and took the menu offered by a waiter who introduced himself as Mike. He asked if either of them wanted a cocktail and both opted for a glass of house red wine.
“Excellent,” Mike extolled.
After he left, Carmen said, “It’s nice to get dressed up once in a while. Thank you for taking me out here. I couldn’t afford it otherwise. I hope the department is paying.”
Oliver smiled. “I’ll send in some kind of voucher, but usually the department frowns on these kinds of places. I’m taking you out here just because you’re you.”
“Don’t you know how to charm a woman.” Carmen opened the menu and her eyes widened. “Did you check this place out beforehand?”
“Order from the left side,” Oliver said. “The duck is great, but I’m having the Black Angus. And thank you very much for helping us out this afternoon.”
“You’re welcome. I have the copies of the files.” She opened her purse/briefcase and peered inside. “I hope you can read them, because I had to photocopy the papers. A lot of this stuff was forwarded material from elementary school.”
“Whose files did you get?”
“I’ve got Esteban Cruz, Alejandro Brand, Martin Cruces, and José Pinon. I hope I didn’t miss anyone.”
“Wow. That’s complete. Thank you very much. Are they related?”
“They all went to Pacoima High, and they all dropped out.” She shut her purse. “Not our success stories, I’m sorry to say.”
“Were Cruces and Pinon troublemakers?”
“I don’t know personally, but their records don’t show either as being a thug.”
“They’re Bodega 12th Street gang members.”
“That says nothing. The school is crawling with Bodega 12th Streeters.”
The waiter came back with the wine. “Are you ready to order?”
Carmen’s smile looked frozen. “I guess I’ll have the duck.”
“Excellent choice,” Mike told her.
“Black Angus, medium rare.”
“Excellent,” Mike repeated. “Would either of you like a side vegetable. Our creamed spinach is excellent.”
“Sounds good,” Oliver said.
“Excellent.” Mike took the menus and left.
“As a former English teacher,” Carmen said dryly, “I would tell him to look in the thesaurus for another adjective.”
Oliver burst into laughter. “Indeed. At least he’s pleasant.”
“Yeah, I hate snooty waiters. They make me nervous, like I’m not good enough.”
“That would never be the case.”
Carmen lowered her eyes. The next few minutes were spent in idle chitchat about their respective fields. But Oliver was antsy. He really had arranged the dinner for business purposes. When the time seemed right, he said, “Carmen, would you be offended if I took a peek at the records?”
“Uh…sure.”
“Why the hesitation?”
She put up a forced smile. “I don’t know if I was really supposed to copy the files and give them to you.”
“Ah…I’ll wait. No problem.”
Carmen slid her purse under the table. “You’re here for a purpose. I respect that. Take a peek, Detective.” She leaned over and wrinkled her nose. “Just be subtle.”
“It’s Scott, and thanks for being such a good sport. I owe you a dinner where we don’t conduct business.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Then I’d like to take you out again.”
“Are you sure about that?” She grinned. “The evening’s not over.”
“I’m sure.” Oliver thought about Adrianna Whitcomb and decided she’d have to wait. At his age, he just couldn’t handle more than one at a time. He lifted one of the files from the briefcase on the floor and set it on his lap. Esteban Cruz; he flipped through the pages, but he couldn’t really make out the type because the lighting was so dim.
Then something stopped him cold.
Carmen said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing…nothing.” He put the file back and took out another one. This one was José Pinon. Again he paged through the sheets.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Sorry to be abrupt.” He stared at his date. “Where’d you score a copy of José Pinon’s fingerprints?”
“It came with their elementary school records. We have this program where we routinely print the kids in elementary school. We say it’s for kidnapping, but what it’s really been useful for is identifying bodies. We’ve got a lot of gang shooting where often the bodies are dumped without ID and—”
“Do you have the original fingerprint cards on file or do you just have copies?” He realized his voice was breathless.
“We have the originals.”
“With their names on them…just like the copies.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s Scott. I need them, Carmen. Like as in right now. Do you have a key to the high school?”
“I have a key to the school, but I don’t know if I can give you the cards, Detective…Scott. There may be some invasion of privacy issues.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll get a warrant.”
Someone of lesser rank appeared to serve the entrées. Apparently Excellent Mike had bigger fish to fry. Carmen smiled as the waiter placed the duck in front of her. “Thank you very much.” To Oliver, she said, “Shall we ask them to wrap it to go?”
“Uh…” Oliver regarded his steak. “Uh, no. Just let me make a phone call to my partner and have her prepare the papers.”
“It’s really okay. I’m kind of an eat-and-run kinda gal anyway.”
“Give me five minutes, Carmen, and I’m all yours.” He tried to look charming. “Please. It’s going to take a little
while anyway to get the paperwork. Why waste a steak?”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll wait. But if you don’t make it quick, I just may eat your steak. I don’t even understand why I ordered the duck.”
“Eat mine. I insist.” He excused himself and stepped outside. Marge came on the line a moment later. “I hit the jackpot. The school files have fingerprint cards for Martin Cruces, José Pinon, and Esteban Cruz.”
“Holy shit! That’s amazing! I’ll call Oldham for print analysis right now.”
“Hold on, Margie, there’s a rub. Carmen Montenegro gave us the files on the sly. She doesn’t think that it’s totally kosher to remove them from the school. We need a search warrant to get us into the original files. Rondo Martin identified Cruces and Pinon as being at the scene. That should be enough probable cause.”
“I would think so. Scott, I don’t want to get the lady in trouble. You don’t think a judge is going to be suspicious about us having to do this at eight in the evening?”
“Uh…good point.” Oliver was pacing. “I don’t want this to wait until tomorrow.”
“How about if I say that Rondo Martin just IDed Cruces and the suspect is in our sights now. That we don’t want him to flee like Pine did.”
“That’s good, that’s really good,” Oliver told her. “As soon as you get the warrant, I’ll meet you at the school with Carmen.”
“Where are you right now?”
“Still at the restaurant. We’ll finish up, and she’ll meet us at the school in her own car. It’ll look a little less suspicious.”
“So you’re still with the lovely lady?”
“Lovely indeed. And she just got a whole lot lovelier.”
THIRTY-SIX
MAN!” DECKER EXCLAIMED over the line. “That just saved us hours of work.”
“You ain’t kidding,” Oliver said. “Marge just got the warrant signed so we’re off to Pacoima High. Here’s to hoping that the fingerprint cards match our unknown prints.”
Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 18 Page 32
