Keenan sat back in his seat and linked his fingers together. ‘Shit, this is a mess,’ he said.
‘So we need to clear it up,’ said Standing. ‘Because no one else will. The cops are sure that Bobby-Ray did it and the chances are that when they do eventually find him it’ll go down badly.’
‘And we’re not going to be getting a confession from Lipov any time soon?’
‘That horse has bolted,’ said Standing.
‘So that’s it, then,’ said Keenan. ‘Paul here didn’t see what happened and there were no other witnesses. None that survived, anyway.’
‘Paul didn’t see what happened, but he heard it. And he only heard two or three shots.’
‘So?’
‘So I’m thinking that Lipov must have used a silencer. That’s how he was able to take down four men without them fighting back.’
‘And he did it with Bobby-Ray’s gun,’ said Keenan.
‘Which is another issue,’ said Standing. ‘At some point Lipov must have taken Bobby-Ray’s gun away from him. Then he used that gun with a silencer to kill Koshkin and the three bodyguards. At some point Bobby-Ray fought back. Maybe Lipov had knocked him out and he came around. Lipov fired at Bobby-Ray but missed. Bobby-Ray ran. Lipov then used his own gun without a silencer to fire two shots in the hall. Those were the shots that Paul heard. Bobby-Ray ran and got over the wall, Lipov chased him and dropped the gun that the cops found.’
‘But only Bobby-Ray’s prints were on the gun,’ said Keenan.
‘So Lipov wore gloves.’
‘He wasn’t wearing gloves when the cops arrived,’ said Dutch. ‘It’s LA, no one wears gloves.’
‘And the cops searched everyone, right?’
Dutch nodded. ‘And they got there within minutes.’
Standing nodded. ‘So Lipov must have hidden the gloves and the silencer.’
‘Not in the garden,’ said Dutch. ‘I was with him all the time. And I went back into the house with him.’
‘Were you able to see him all the time you were in the house?’ asked Standing.
Dutch frowned as he thought back to that night, and eventually he shook his head. ‘I went in to check on the client. Nikolai was behind me. Then I checked on Kurt and the two Russians. At that point Nikolai was calling the cops. He definitely wasn’t wearing gloves then.’
Standing looked at Keenan. ‘There you are, then. I think that Lipov planned to kill everyone but Bobby-Ray, then he was going to put Bobby-Ray’s gun back in Bobby-Ray’s hand and shoot him with his own gun. Bobby-Ray managed to escape so Lipov had to run after him and plant the gun. But at that point he’d still have had the gloves and the silencer so he needed to hide them before the cops arrived.’
‘Why didn’t he leave the silencer on the gun?’ asked Dutch.
‘Because it wouldn’t have had Bobby-Ray’s prints on it,’ said Standing. ‘The CSIs would have spotted that there were prints on the gun but not on the silencer.’
Keenan nodded thoughtfully. ‘So the silencer and the gloves are hidden somewhere in the house?’
‘Probably in the hallway. Lipov wouldn’t have had much time to dispose of them. So if we get the cops to do a proper search, the gloves will have Lipov’s prints on the inside and Bobby-Ray will be in the clear.’
Keenan banged the flat of his hand on the table, hard enough to rattle the coffee mugs. ‘Good job, Matt.’
‘We shouldn’t go counting chickens just yet,’ said Standing. ‘We need to convince the cops to do a proper search of the house.’
‘I don’t think that’s a problem,’ said Keenan. ‘I can call the lead detective on the investigation. We got on okay. Let me see if he’s up for it.’
‘When?’
‘Hell, we can do it right now,’ said Keenan. ‘Strike while the iron’s hot.’
28
John Keenan looked at his watch. ‘Shouldn’t be long now,’ he said. He and Standing were sitting in the front of a black SUV parked outside the gates to a Bel Air mansion hidden behind a twelve-foot high wall, on which were posted signs informing would-be trespassers that armed security was close by. Kaitlyn had taken her Polo and driven back to the motel. Paul Dutch was sitting in the back, probing his teeth with a toothpick.
‘They were okay to come by at night?’ asked Standing.
‘The lead detective practically insisted on it,’ said Keenan. ‘Craig Withers, his name is. Detective First Grade.’ He nodded at a grey sedan prowling down the road towards them. ‘That’ll be him now.’
The sedan pulled up alongside their SUV and the passenger window wound down. ‘You’re sure about this, Mr Keenan?’ growled a grey-haired man with a slightly bored tone that suggested he had heard a lot of lies in his career.
‘As sure as we can be, Detective Withers. Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.’
The detective nodded. He must have had a remote control, because the large metal gates rattled open of their own accord. Keenan followed the sedan along a driveway that ran between two immaculately manicured lawns. In the middle of each was a stone fountain. There was a triple-width garage to the left of the house, which was whitewashed stone covered with ivy, with fake shutters either side of latticed windows.
‘How much would this cost?’ asked Standing. The metal gates rattled closed behind them.
‘Ten million bucks, maybe,’ said Keenan. ‘Fifteen. They go for crazy money these days. But Koshkin didn’t own it. He was renting it for a hundred thousand dollars a month. That’s what I was told.’
The sedan pulled up in front of the garage and Keenan parked next to it. Standing and Dutch climbed out as Keenan turned off the engine.
Withers got out of the sedan. He was wearing a lightweight grey suit with a gun on his right hip. The driver was younger, a tall, thin black man with bookish spectacles. He was wearing a dark jacket and beige trousers and also had a gun on his belt.
‘This is Matt Standing,’ said Keenan by way of introduction. ‘He served with Bobby-Ray out in Syria.’
‘Yeah?’ said the detective. ‘I don’t suppose you know where Barnes is, do you? It would make our lives a lot easier if he came forward and spoke to us.’
Standing shrugged. ‘I’m sorry.’
Withers looked up at the house. There was Police CRIME SCENE tape across the front door. ‘Tell me again what you think we’ll find in there, Mr Keenan,’ he said.
‘We believe that the bodyguard who survived – Nikolai Lipov – carried out the killings and hid a silencer and a pair of gloves in the house.’
‘I spoke to Mr Lipov at length,’ said the detective. ‘I didn’t see or hear anything that suggests he was the killer. He fired his gun twice and both those slugs are accounted for.’
‘We think Lipov used Bobby-Ray’s gun to kill Koshkin and the bodyguards,’ said Keenan.
Withers shook his head emphatically. ‘Barnes had the gun on him and he dropped it in the garden.’ He pointed away to his left where police tape had been pegged to the ground.
‘Where were you when Bobby-Ray ran out of the house?’ Standing asked Dutch.
Dutch moved to stand in front of the middle of three garage doors. ‘Here,’ he said.
‘And where did Bobby-Ray run?’
Dutch pointed to the front door, then pointed at his route along the driveway and across the grass to the wall. ‘That’s where he went over.’
‘Did you see a gun?’
Dutch shook his head. ‘No. But I wasn’t looking for one.’
‘But you didn’t see him drop a gun?’
‘No,’ said Dutch.
‘And the wall is high, I’m not sure even a Navy SEAL could scramble over a wall that high with a gun in his hand.’
‘That’s the point,’ said Withers. ‘He dropped the gun to go over the wall.’
‘But Dutch didn’t see him do that,’ said Standing.
Withers sighed in exasperation. ‘I’ve seen the gun with my own eyes,’ he said. ‘It had Bobby-Ray’s prints a
nd DNA on it and there’s no doubt that it was the gun that killed Mr Koshkin and his bodyguards.’
Standing nodded at Dutch. ‘Where did Lipov go? After he came out of the house.’
‘Same way that Bobby-Ray had gone. He saw him slipping over the wall and headed over there.’
Standing pointed at the crime scene tape. ‘So Lipov was over there?’
Dutch nodded. ‘That’s where he was standing.’
‘And that’s where you found the gun?’ Standing asked Withers.
Withers ignored the question but looked over at Dutch. ‘Did you see Lipov drop the gun?’
‘No. I was looking at the wall, so I wasn’t watching him.’
Withers looked back at Standing. ‘Lipov’s prints weren’t on Bobby-Ray’s gun,’ he said. ‘His prints and DNA were on his own gun, but not on Bobby-Ray’s.’
‘Which is why we think he was wearing gloves,’ said Standing. ‘And if he went back inside still wearing those gloves and he didn’t have them when the cops arrived …’
‘Then the gloves are somewhere in the house,’ Withers finished for him. He sighed.
‘Along with the silencer he must have used,’ said Standing.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Paul only heard two or three shots. There were at least ten shots fired that night, so the sounds of some of them must have been suppressed.’
Withers stared at Standing with a frown on his face, then he slowly nodded. ‘Right, then. Let’s have a look around.’ He gestured over at his companion, who produced a set of keys from his pocket and walked over to the front door. He pulled aside the police tape and unlocked the door. He went in first and switched on the lights. Withers went in next, followed by Keenan, Standing and Dutch. They gathered in the double-height stone-flagged hallway under a large wood and brass chandelier.
A wide stone staircase wound up to the bedrooms and four doors led off the ground-floor atrium.
‘Where were the bullets from Lipov’s gun found?’ Standing asked Withers.
‘Behind you,’ said Withers.
Standing turned around. There were two yellow circles around small holes in the plasterwork at about eye level. They were numbered, one and two. Standing looked at the holes and then up at the staircase.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Withers.
‘Where did they happen? The killings?’
Withers pointed at an open door to his right. ‘In there. The sitting room.’
Standing pointed at the staircase. ‘Lipov was up there. Coming down the stairs. Bobby-Ray supposedly comes out of the sitting room and into the hallway. They see each other. Bobby-Ray shoots at Lipov and Lipov shoots at Bobby-Ray. They both miss each other?’ Standing went up the staircase, stopped at the halfway point. He pointed at the bullet holes as if he was aiming a gun. ‘I don’t see how Lipov’s rounds went where they did. He was shooting high. But if he was here, he’d be shooting down.’
‘He was being fired at,’ said Withers.
Standing looked at the wall above the staircase. There was a single bullet hole, circled and numbered. Three.
‘So Bobby-Ray fired once?’ he asked.
‘That’s how we read it.’
‘First, a Navy SEAL wouldn’t just fire a single shot unless he was sure of a kill. He’d double tap. Two shots. Second, I don’t see that Bobby-Ray would miss at this range. I saw him in combat and you can trust me when I say that he’s not the type to panic under pressure.’ He walked back down the stairs into the hallway. He mimed holding a gun and pointed his fingers at the two bullet holes. ‘If you ask me, Lipov was here when he fired.’
‘Why would he lie about that?’ asked Withers.
‘Because what he said happened, didn’t happen,’ said Standing. He walked back down the stairs and into the sitting room. There were two low black leather sofas either side of a carved wooden coffee table and around the walls were large pieces of furniture, mainly oak and teak, plus a couple of Chinese chests. There were French doors at the far end of the room, leading onto the garden. Standing stopped and pointed at the doors. ‘And what was he doing going through the hall, anyway? Wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to have gone out that way?’
‘Maybe they were locked?’ said Withers.
‘One good kick would open them,’ said Standing.
He looked down at the floor. There were three individual pools of blood. Keenan and Dutch were standing at the doorway as if reluctant to set foot in the room. Standing gestured at Dutch. ‘Who was where?’
Dutch pointed at the sofa facing him. ‘Koshkin was on the sofa. Shot in the face and chest.’ He shuddered. ‘It was a mess.’ He pointed at the three patches of dried blood from left to right. ‘Max, Boris, Kurt,’ he said.
‘How were they lying when you came in?’ asked Standing.
‘Face down,’ said Dutch. ‘They had all been shot in the back of the head.’
‘None of them had turned?’
Dutch shook his head. ‘No.’
Standing looked over at Withers. ‘Which is why I’m sure that Lipov used a silencer,’ he said. ‘Paul didn’t hear the shots outside and Lipov was able to shoot all three men in the back of the head.’ Standing mimed shooting three times. ‘Bang, bang, bang. He left Koshkin until the end because he knew that he wouldn’t have a gun. Koshkin would have seen Lipov shoot the bodyguards but there was nothing he could do to save himself. Bang, Bang. Then, with the bodyguards down, Lipov went back into the hall. I’m guessing that he’d knocked Bobby-Ray out and taken his gun, then screwed in the silencer before carrying out the killings. As he goes back into the hall he takes off the silencer. Now maybe he didn’t hit Bobby-Ray hard enough, maybe Bobby-Ray just has a thick skull, but when he gets back into the hallway, Bobby-Ray is on his feet. Lipov shoots at him twice with his own gun but Bobby-Ray is already running and the shots go wide. At this point Lipov realises that his plan to frame Bobby-Ray is turning to shit. He used his own gun to fire two shots at Bobby-Ray but to make it look like Bobby-Ray was the shooter he has to fire one round from Bobby-Ray’s into the wall. Lipov does that, bang, then shoves Bobby-Ray’s gun in his holster and gives chase. Bobby-Ray is over the wall before Lipov can get to him, and Lipov drops Bobby-Ray’s gun on the lawn by the wall. Still wearing gloves so his prints aren’t on Bobby-Ray’s gun.’
Keenan nodded in agreement but Withers had a look on his face that was close to contempt.
‘Then Lipov comes back into the house with Paul. Paul goes over to the bodies. While Paul is doing that, Lipov takes off his gloves and hides them and the silencer. Where were you exactly, Paul?’
Dutch moved into the room and went over to the sofa. ‘I checked Koshkin first. A big chunk of his head was missing so I knew he was dead. Then I moved to check Max because I thought I saw his chest move but he was gone.’
‘How long before Lipov joined you?’
Dutch shrugged. ‘Thirty seconds, I guess.’
Standing went back into the hall. ‘So Lipov had thirty seconds to hide the silencer and his gloves. I don’t think he would have risked going upstairs, so that leaves him in the hallway or through one of the doors here.’
He opened one door and it led to a large well-equipped kitchen with a centre island and lots of gleaming stainless steel appliances. A second door led to a cloakroom, a third into a study lined with bookshelves.
‘How do you want to play it?’ Standing asked Withers. ‘I’m sure the gloves and silencer are here somewhere, do we search together or split up?’
‘You search with me,’ said Withers. ‘Detective Reid can work with Mr Keenan and Mr Dutch.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Standing.
Withers took a handful of pale-blue latex gloves from his pocket. He gave a pair each to Standing and Keenan and Detective Reid gave a pair to Dutch. ‘If any of you civilians find anything, don’t touch it,’ said Withers.
The men put on their gloves and began the search. Withers and Standing went into the k
itchen while Reid, Dutch and Keenan headed to the study.
Withers stood by the island and pursed his lips. ‘Two ways of doing this,’ he said. ‘Methodically, starting at one end and searching everywhere. Or try to think like he was thinking.’
‘He only had seconds to do it,’ said Standing. ‘So he probably stayed close to the door.’
Withers nodded in agreement. He pulled open the doors to the fridge. ‘Favourite hiding place for drug dealers for their cash,’ he said. He began going through the freezer compartments.
Standing looked around. There were a lot of cupboards, and Lipov could have used any of them. But the bodyguard would have known that once the police were called, the house would be a crime scene and he wouldn’t be allowed back in. He had no way of knowing if the police would search the house, or how extensive the search would be. But if the police didn’t search, eventually the owner of the house would have access and he would probably have the house cleaned. Lipov needed a place that wouldn’t be checked by the owner or the cleaner.
Withers had finished checking the freezer compartments and was now looking inside the main part of the fridge.
Standing rubbed his chin and looked up at the ceiling. It was solid plaster with beams running across it. He took one of the stools from the island and carefully climbed on top of it. His head was still a couple of feet from the ceiling as he looked around. He grinned when he saw the top of the fridge. ‘Bingo,’ he said.
‘Bingo?’ repeated Withers.
‘On top of the refrigerator,’ said Standing.
‘You’re shitting me,’ said the detective, closing the fridge door.
‘No one can see it and who cleans the top of a fridge?’ said Standing, carefully getting down from the stool. He carried it over to the fridge and helped Withers to climb up.
The detective pulled a clear plastic evidence bag from his pocket and carefully put a bulbous black silencer and two latex gloves into it. Standing helped him down. The two men looked at the evidence bag in the detective’s hand. ‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ said Withers, shaking his head.
‘So that puts Bobby-Ray in the clear?’ said Standing.
Last Man Standing Page 21
