Jonathan Kellerman - Alex 11 - The Clinic

by The Clinic(Lit)

  'Which is?'

  'That Kenny's capable of violence. He isn't, believe me. He played football with my kid in high school, had the speed and the muscle but got dropped from the team because he wasn't aggressive enough.'

  'No killer instinct, huh?'

  Bateman gave a pained look. 'Furthermore, he assures me that on the night of the murder he was in San Diego.'

  'Does he have someone to back that up?'

  'No, but like I said, he's no Einstein.'

  'So?'

  'What I read about the murder sounded thought-out: stalking the woman, leaving no physical evidence. That just isn't Kenny. He might lose his cool and run his

  mouth, maybe even punch someone, but he calms down fast.'

  'He's smart enough to get into the U,' I said.

  'A miracle,' said Bateman. 'Believe me. Ken pulled in some alumnus chits, had him tutored, the boy took the SAT four times. Then he worked his butt off, but still couldn't cut it. Couldn't hack College of the Palms either. Now this. It couldn't come at a worse time, in terms of his self-esteem. That's why that era - your remark about his having free time was hurtful. Being interrogated by the police isn't pleasant. To be honest, Detective, he's pretty scared about today.'

  'He didn't seem scared.'

  'He puts on a show. Believe me, he's scared.'

  Milo finally smiled. 'You like him, huh?'

  'Yes, I do, Detective.'

  The smile widened. 'Well, I don't, Mr Bateman. 'Cause he hasn't done anything to earn my liking him.'

  'Det-'

  'I've got a brutal, unsolved murder with a lot of angry overtones to it on my hands and what I see in your client is a big, strong, aggressive kid with a very nasty temper who's been playing hard-to-get and finally shows up with Daddy acting antsy and a lawyer trying to block every syllable that comes out of my mouth. What do you want me to do, serve up my questions on a doily with parsley on the side? If I wanted to cater, I'd learn how to cook.'

  Bateman bared his teeth again. The affect behind the mannerism was hard to gauge but his body language said submission.

  'Of course not, Detective. Of course not, I'm just trying to - all right, let's give it another try. Ask what you want, tape everything, but I'll be taking detailed notes. And do try to remember this is a good kid.'

  When we returned to the office, both Storms were smoking cigars and an ashtray had appeared on the desk.

  'Panamanian?' said Milo.

  Senior nodded and blew enough smoke to hide his facial features. Junior smirked.

  Milo set up the tape recorder, recited the date and place, his badge number, and Junior's name as the subject of an 'in-person interview with regard to one-eight-seven PC, Coroner's Case Number nine-four-seven-seven-six-five, Professor Hope Devane.'

  Hearing her name wiped the smirk off Junior's face. He smoked and fought back a cough.

  Bateman and I sat down but Milo remained on his feet.

  'Afternoon, Kenny.'

  Grunt.

  'Do you know why we're here?'

  Grunt.

  'How many times did you meet Professor Devane?'

  Grunt.

  'You're going to have to speak up.'

  'Once.'

  'When was that?'

  'The committee.'

  'The hearing of the Interpersonal Conduct Committee chaired by Professor Devane?'

  Grunt.

  'What's that?'

  'Yeah.'

  'I've read transcripts of that hearing, son. Sounds like things got pretty heated.'

  Grunt.

  'What's that?'

  'She was a bitch.'

  Senior took his cigar out. 'Ken.'

  'Hey, tell it like it is,' said his son.

  'So you didn't like her,' said Milo.

  'Don't put words into his mouth,' ordered Senior.

  Milo looked down at him. 'Okay, we'll stick to quotes: You think she was a bitch.'

  Senior's mouth got piggish and Bateman made a go-easy gesture with his hand.

  Milo repeated the question.

  Junior shrugged. 'She was what she was.'

  'Which was?'

  'A fucking bitch.'

  'Ken!'

  'Mr Storm,' said Milo. 'Please stop interrupting.'

  'He's my son, dammit, and it's my right to-'

  'Ken,' said Bateman. 'It's okay.'

  'Right,' said Senior. 'Everything's okay, everything's just great'

  'Counselor,' said Milo.

  Bateman got up and put a hand on Senior's shoulder. Senior shook him off and smoked furiously.

  'What,' said Milo, 'made you think she was a bitch, Kenny?'

  'The way she acted.'

  'More specific'

  'The way she set me up.'

  'Set you up how?'

  "That letter telling me we were just going to discuss things.'

  'At the hearing.'

  'Yeah. When I got there, the way she tried to get Cindy to say I was some kind of rapist, which is total bullshit.' Sidelong glance at his father. 'It was just a dumb hassle between Cindy and me. Later, she called me.'

  'Professor Devane did?'

  'Yeah.'

  'When?'

  'Afterward.'

  'After the hearing?'

  'Yeah.'

  'How long after?'

  'The next day. At night. I was at the Omega house.'

  'Why'd she call?'

  'To try to freak me out.'

  'In what way, son?'

  'She was pissed because her little game was a loser.'

  'How'd she try to freak you out?'

  'She said even if Cindy didn't want to press charges, I had problems - impulse-control problems, some bullshit like that. She said she could make things rough for me if I didn't behave.'

  'She threatened you?'

  The boy shifted in his seat, looked at his cigar and put it in the ashtray. His father stared at him.

  'She didn't exactly come out and say it, more like hinting.'

  'Hinting how?'

  'I don't remember the exact words. Like I'll be watching, I'm in control, you know?'

  'Did she use the word "control"?' I said.

  'No - I don't know. Maybe - it was more like how she said it, you know? Watch your step. Or something like that. She was a radical.'

  'Radical?' said Milo.

  'Left-wing.'

  'She discussed her political views with you?'

  The boy smiled. 'No, but it was obvious. Radical feminism, trying to establish a new order, know what I mean?'

  'Not really, son.'

  'Socialism. Central control.' Glance at his father. 'Communism died in Russia but they're still trying to centralize America.'

  'Ah,' said Milo. 'So you see Professor Devane as part of some kind of left-wing conspiracy.'

  Kenny laughed. 'No, I'm no militia freak, I'm just saying there's a certain type of person likes to control things, make rules for everyone - like Playboy is evil and should be banned, affirmative action for everyone.'

  'And Professor Devane was that type of person.'

  Kenny shrugged. 'Seemed like it.'

  Milo nodded and ran his hand over his face. 'And she said she'd be watching you.'

  'Something like that.'

  'Watching how?'

  'She didn't say. I shined her on, anyway.'

  'How?'

  'Told her to fuck herself and hung up and went back to playing pool. I was leaving the place anyway, what did I care, fuck her.'

  'Leaving the University?'

  'Yeah. Place sucks, waste of time. You can't learn business in school.' Another sidelong peek at his father. Senior, his head in a cloud of smoke, was staring at the framed awards.

  Milo said, 'So you thought she was a bitch and she threatened you. Did her threat scare you at all?'

  'No way. Like I said, she was full of shit and I was out of there.'

  'Did you ever consider taking action against her?'

  'like what?'

&n
bsp; 'Like anything.'

  Senior swiveled and faced Bateman. 'Can he get that general, Pierre?'

  'Would you care to rephrase your question, Detective?' said Bateman.

  'No,' said Milo. 'Did you ever consider taking any kind of action against Professor Devane, Kenny?'

  Junior looked from his father to Bateman.

  Milo tapped a foot.

  'Dad?'

  Senior gave him a disgusted look.

  Milo said, 'Shall I repeat the question?'

  Bateman said, 'Go ahead, Kenny.'

  'We - my father and me - we talked about suing her.'

  'Suing her,' said Milo.

  'For harassment.'

  'Which it was,' said Senior. 'The whole thing was a complete outrage.'

  'It woulda served her right,' said Junior. 'But we never did anything.'

  'Why not?'

  No answer.

  'Because she was murdered?' said Milo.

  'No, because Dad's got some... he's busy with business complications.'

  'So we discussed it,' said Senior, loudly. 'So what? Last I heard it's still a free country, or have I missed something?'

  Milo kept his eyes on the boy. 'Did you ever consider taking any other kind of action against Professor Devane, Kenny?'

  'Like what?'

  'Anything.'

  'like what?'

  'like getting back at her physically?'

  'No way, man. And anyway, if I would've wanted to do that it wouldn'ta been her I'd pound, it would be that wuss with her. I'd never hit a lady.'

  'What wuss is that?'

  'The faggot with her, he really got on my case, I don't know his name.'

  'You considered getting back at him physically.'

  Bateman said, 'Detective, that's not a-'

  Kenny said, 'I didn't consider it, but if I did, he would've been the one. He kept going at me, like trying to... outfeminist her.'

  'So if you would've planned to hurt someone it would have been him, not Professor Devane.'

  Senior said, 'He never said he'd hurt anyone.'

  'Exactly,' said Junior. 'Him, I could've duked it out fair and square with. But she was a woman. I still open doors for women.'

  'Car doors,' said Milo. 'Like for Cindy?'

  The boy's shoulders bunched.

  Milo checked the tape.

  'Okay. Now let's talk about where you were the night of the murder.'

  'La Jolla.' Quick answer.

  'Why?'

  'I live there, I work there.'

  'Work where?'

  'Excalibur Real Estate, the training program. Used to, real estate's in the dumpster.'

  'So you quit.'

  'Yeah.'

  'What are you doing, now?'

  'Exploring.'

  'Exploring what?'

  'My options.'

  'I see,' said Milo. 'But the day of the murder you were still in the Excalibur Real Estate training program.'

  'Yeah,' said the boy. 'But that day, specifically, I was with friends on the beach.' He ticked off his fingers: 'Corey Vellinger, Mark Drummond, Brian Baskins.'

  'Friends from La Jolla?'

  'No, from here. The Omega house. They came down to see me.'

  'How long were you with them?'

  'From around ten to five. Then they drove back up to L.A.'

  'What did you do at five?'

  'Went driving for a while, got a video at Blockbuster, then I think the Wherehouse for some CD's.'

  'You bought CD's?'

  'No, I just looked.'

  'Do you have the receipt for the video?'

  'Nope.'

  'You pay for it with a credit card?'

  'Nope, I was overdue on my card so I left them a deposit, paid cash,,'

  'What'd you rent?'

  'Terminator Two.'

  'You go home and watch it?'

  'First I went for dinner.'

  'Where?'

  'Burger King.'

  'Is there anyone who can remember you there?'

  'Nope, it was drive-through.'

  'Where'd you eat?'

  'At my place.'

  'An apartment?'

  'Yeah.'

  'Where?'

  'The Coral Motel, off Torrey Pines.'

  'Anyone see you there?'

  'Don't think so, but maybe.'

  'Maybe?'

  'I don't know anyone, it's just this dinky-shit single he was renting for me while I was in the program.'

  'Who's he?'

  'Dad.'

  Senior smoked and looked at the wall. 'Month-to-month rent,' he said.

  'So you returned with your video and your dinner to your room. What time was this?'

  'Six or seven.'

  'Then what?'

  'I watched TV.'

  'What'd you watch?'

  'MTV, I think.'

  'What was on?'

  Kenny laughed. 'I dunno, videos, all kinds of shit.'

  'Did you go out again that night?'

  'Nope.'

  'Quiet night, huh?'

  'Yeah. I got sunburned at the beach, didn't feel so good.' Smiling, but an uneasiness ruffled the last few words.

  'You do anything that night besides watch TV?' said Milo.

  Pause. 'Nope.'

  'Nothing at all?'

  'Not really.'

  'Not really?'

  The boy glanced at his father.

  'Kenny?' said Milo.

  'Basically that was it.'

  'Basically?'

  Senior turned to his son and scowled.

  'Basically?' Milo repeated.

  Kenny touched the pimple on his neck.

  'Don't pick at it,' said Senior.

  'What else did you do that night?' said Milo.

  Junior's answer was nearly inaudible. 'Beer.'

  'You had a beer?'

  'Yeah.'

  'Just one?'

  'A couple.'

  'How many?'

  Another glance at Dad. 'A couple.'

  'Meaning two?' said Milo.

  'Maybe three.'

  'Or four?'

  'Maybe.'

  'You get high, son?'

  'Nope.' The small eyes were active, now.

  'Do anything besides beer?'

  'No!'

  'Four beers,' said Milo. 'Maybe a six-pack?'

  'No, there were two left over.'

  'So definitely four.'

  'Probably.'

  'Probably.'

  'Maybe I had another in the morning.'

  Senior stared at his son, shook his head very slowly.

  'Breakfast of champions,' said Milo.

  The boy didn't answer.

  'Dinner, TV,' said Milo. 'Then four beers. What time did you drink the fourth beer?'

  'I dunno, maybe eight.'

  Leaving enough time for the two-hour ride to L.A. and an hour of stalking. But the dog had turned ill earlier in the evening.

  'Then what?' said Milo.

  'Then nothing.'