by M. Z. Kelly
A shouting match followed as Natalie and Mo called Krump several names, including a walking sack of donkey dung, a blood-sucking leach, and an impotent little troll.
“Thirty days,” Krump shouted as we left the room. “You need to all be gone, or I will have the authorities physically remove you from the property.”
As we walked back to our homes, Mo lamented our fate. “I don’t know what we’re gonna do. It’s not like we can afford a lawyer, and the rents in Hollywood are crazy.”
“Maybe we can find us one of them proboner lawyers and fight the eviction,” Natalie suggested. “I can check with Jimmy, see if he knows somebody.”
“I think baby sis means pro bono,” Mo said.
“Jimmy” was Jimmy Sweets, Natalie and Mo’s boss in their PI business. He was the lowest of Hollywood’s low life. I had no faith in him finding us anybody we could afford.
I sighed. “Maybe it’s time we moved on, found some place else to rent. We never fit in here, anyway.”
“But where we gonna go?” Mo asked. “If you put all three of our life savings together, it wouldn’t be enough to rent a dumpster.”
She had a point, but I tried to be positive. “Let me give it some thought, and we’ll talk tonight. I’m already late for work.”
Bernie and I got to the station just before nine. I stopped by Olivia’s office and spent a few minutes apologizing and explaining about our impending eviction. After she agreed that living in a mobile home park for the elderly probably wasn’t a good fit for me and my friends, I changed the subject and told her what Woody Horton had said about my adoptive dad last night.
“It could be that my dad was involved in running drugs from Brazil through the studios and had a falling out with Ryland and the others that got him killed.” I exhaled, the impact of what might have happened again hitting me. “It’s pretty discouraging to even think about.”
“It might have gone that way,” Olivia said, “but what happened was thirty years ago. Maybe there’s more to the story.”
“Maybe things my mother knows about.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Woody said the guy from the studios who saw my dad arguing with Cooper told him my mom was also hanging around a lot. It could even be that she was involved in what happened, or knew everything and kept it from me all these years.”
“Are you going to talk to her?”
I nodded. “At some point, but I need some time to process everything.”
Olivia’s phone was ringing as she said, “Let me know if I can help.”
I started to leave when she made a motion for me to wait as she took the call. I could tell from her comments that the call was from Deputy Chief Bronson.
“We’ll head over there now,” Olivia said, ending the call.
Olivia put her phone away and said, “There’s been a murder in Santa Monica. The vic’s name is Aaron Miller. Bronson said he thinks what happened might tie into the Bratton case. Let’s get everyone together and head over there.”
***
We took a large SUV to the crime scene in Santa Monica because Olivia asked Jenny Durst to come along and tell us what she’d learned about the homicide in Santa Monica as it related to Laura Bratton. Leo and Darby followed us in another car as Jenny filled in Olivia, Charlie, and me.
“Molly and I were able to pull some old credit reports that were accessed during the time Bratton worked for the CIA,” Jenny explained. “We compared the time period she was employed by the agency and it coincided with a report of her being employed by a company called Agrasom.”
The company’s name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it as Jenny went on. “We think Bratton might have been a CIA operative, working undercover to investigate the company.”
“What do we know about Agrasom?” Olivia asked.
“It’s a multinational agribusiness that genetically modified some of their crops to be insecticide resistant. The only problem is...”
“Their products are carcinogenic,” I said, suddenly remembering what Cynthia McFadden had told me. “Carmen Todd was planning to sue the company before she died because their products have caused developmental delays and cancer in children.”
“How do you know about this?” Olivia asked.
I explained about my relationship with Cynthia McFadden and that she’d gotten the information from her sources. I then said, “The information about the lawsuit she was planning to file didn’t seem relevant to anything until now.”
Olivia looked at Jenny. “The victim Deputy Chief Bronson called me about is a guy named Aaron Miller. He said he may have ties to Laura Bratton.”
“Give me a sec,” Jenny said, scrolling through some information on her phone.
While we waited, I asked Olivia about Valerie Weber. “Anything new on the guy Osgood referred to as The Keeper?”
“Nothing. I passed the information along to Metro, hoping they come up with something.”
Jenny looked up from her phone as we turned off the freeway in Santa Monica, her blue eyes growing wider. “Miller also worked for Agrasom around the same time Laura Bratton did. He was the head of their information technology department, but left the company three years ago, just after Bratton.”
“That has to be more than a coincidence,” Charlie said as we pulled into the hotel parking lot.
“Do we know anything more about Miller?” Olivia asked.
Jenny glanced at her phone again. “Just looking at some background stuff and his credit, it looks like he’s had no visible means of support since leaving Agrasom.”
“After we take a look at the crime scene, let’s go ask Bratton what she knows about him,” Olivia said.
The homicide at the Pacific Grand was being worked by Santa Monica PD detectives. We met up with a detective named Jack McGuire in a hallway on the nineteenth floor.
“As you probably know, our vic was a guy named Aaron Miller,” McGuire said. “We have security footage of a woman, who we think is our suspect, moving through the lobby and taking the elevator up here just after midnight. A card key belonging to wait staff was used to enter the room, but we haven’t been able to locate the employee. The COD was two rounds to the chest. No one heard the shots, and no casings were found, so it looks like it might have been a professional hit.”
“Our deputy chief thought the vic might have a tie to a case we’re working,” Olivia said.
McGuire nodded. “The Bratton murders that have been all over the news. Miller had Lee Bratton’s business card in his wallet, so we called your department.”
“Can we take a look inside the room?” Olivia asked.
“Of course, just follow the usual protocols.”
We entered the room and saw that the victim was in bed. I had the impression he’d probably been surprised by his killer and didn’t have time to reach for the Glock on his nightstand. Then we got a closer look at Miller and things suddenly began falling into place for me.
“Son of a bitch,” Charlie said, also recognizing the victim.
“How does that old saying go, about the best place to hide is in plain sight,” Darby said, also making the connection.
“The vic was at Bratton’s sister’s place,” Leo told Olivia.
“What are you talking about?” she said.
“He was at Susan Calloway’s condo in Malibu when we interviewed her,” I said. “He was introduced to us only as Ron, probably short for Aaron. I think he’s Callaway’s boyfriend.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
The traffic on Pacific Coast Highway was congested, and it took us almost an hour to reach Malibu. When we got to Callaway’s condo, Olivia knocked on the door and announced us, without getting any response. She then tried the knob, finding it locked.
She turned back to us. “Any ideas?”
“Let’s go around to the beach side,” I said. “Maybe we can get inside through the patio.”
We were able to gain access to the patio,
but the interior door was also locked. There was limited visibility to the interior of the residence, but we saw nothing out of place.
“I think she’s on the beach,” Charlie said.
I turned and saw that he was pointing toward the shoreline, where someone was lying in the sand. We all rushed over and found Callaway there. She’d suffered a gunshot wound to her shoulder, but was still alive.
Olivia used her sweater to apply pressure to the wound, at the same time asking, “Who did this to you?”
Leo was calling for an ambulance as Callaway answered. “Monica Linville...she’s...” Her eyes closed, and she didn’t go on.
Olivia looked at me, her brows coming together. She said to Calloway. “Who are you talking about?”
Calloway’s eyes fluttered open but closed again. Her voice was weak and ragged. “She’s with Agrasom...she’s after...my sister and niece. She’s going to kill...”
“Where is she?” When Calloway didn’t answer, Olivia tried again. “Where’s your sister? Where is Laura?”
Calloway’s voice was barely audible over the breaking waves. “Ask Diane...Ruskin.”
“Who?” Olivia said.
There was no response as Calloway slumped back onto the sand and lost consciousness.
Olivia stood. “Who the hell are Linville and Ruskin?”
“Let me have Molly run both names,” Jenny said. “Bratton has to have some kind of connection to them.”
Ten minutes later, Jenny had Molly’s background information and told us she thought she understood what Susan Calloway was trying to tell us. “Monica Linville is the head of security operations for Agrasom. She must be trying to stop Bratton from talking to Diane Ruskin about the company. Ruskin is an investigative reporter for the Herald-Press.”
FIFTY-NINE
“Do you think Monica Linville killed Aaron Miller?” Olivia asked as Charlie drove us to the Herald-Press building in Los Angeles. We had already made attempts to get ahold of Diane Ruskin, without success.
“It’s likely,” I said. “She probably figured that Bratton told her sister and her boyfriend what she knew about the company’s faulty products. Linville had to see both Miller and Calloway as a threat to the company.”
It also occurred to me that Miller could have been the man Amy Bratton had seen in her back yard with an unknown woman. He bore a slight resemblance to a younger version of President Reagan.
“There might be more to what’s been happening,” Jenny suggested. “Maybe Aaron Miller also found out something about the company when he worked there. It might even be that...hold on.” She paused, looking at her phone again. “Give me another sec...”
“Jenny, what is it?” Olivia asked.
“That’s it.”
“That’s what?”
“Agrasom’s research projects. They always begin with the letter Z...starting with Z-01 and so on through the years until you get to...”
“Z-91.”
“Exactly, but there’s no mention of that research in their company’s published scientific papers. I’m willing to bet that the tattoo on Amy Bratton’s arm and the writing on the death masks refer to some research that was never published.”
“Research that no doubt shows the company’s products are dangerous,” I said, “and it’s the key to everything that’s been happening.”
“Whatever that research was, it must have cost Laura Bratton her family,” Olivia said.
“And, if we don’t get there in time, it’s probably going to cost her and her daughter’s life,” Charlie agreed.
We were five minutes from the Herald-Press headquarters when Olivia got a call. When the call ended, she told Charlie, “Let’s move. Not sure about the details, but there’s been a shooting inside the Herald-Press building. At least one person is down.”
SIXTY
We arrived at the Herald-Press building at the same time a couple marked patrol cars pulled to the curb behind us. I showed the officers my credentials and explained what we knew. Several people were running from the building. Olivia went over and asked a woman what was happening inside.
“There’s a woman with a gun,” she said. “She shot a reporter named Diane Ruskin and then headed up the stairway after another woman and a girl.”
We moved inside the building, where we found the reporter dead in a hallway. The offices were mostly empty as we headed for the stairs. When we got to the roof of the four-story building, we found Laura Bratton, her daughter Amy, and a woman I assumed was Monica Linville. She was holding a gun on her hostages.
“It’s over,” Olivia said as we stopped about twenty yards from Linville, with our weapons aimed at her. “Put the gun down.”
“It’s over when I say it’s over,” Linville said.
“We know about the documents showing that Agrasom’s products are unsafe,” Olivia said to her, playing the hunch Jenny had hypothesized.
“They’ve already been released,” Bratton said to Linville. “Ruskin sent the research before you got here. It’s in the hands of several news agencies.”
Linville released a heavy breath. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I did what should have been done three years ago. Enough innocent people have died, including my family members.”
Linville shook her head and lowered her weapon. “Maybe you’re right.” She released Bratton and her daughter, then walked over to a railing at the edge of the building. She still had her weapon in hand as she stopped and looked back at us. A thin smile played on her lips. “I don’t think I would make a very good prisoner.”
We all shouted for her to stop and rushed over to the railing. After she went over the barrier, I managed to reach down and grab Linville’s hand at the last second. She was dangling from the ledge as Charlie came over, reached down and tried to help pull her up. Then we both saw the gun. Linville raised it in our direction with her other hand and we both released her. Her body slipped away from us. Seconds later she was lying dead on the pavement below.
Darby went over and surveyed the results. “I guess that’s what you call karma for the murder of innocent children.” Laura Bratton had followed us over to the railing with her daughter. Darby said to her, “At least you’re safe now.”
“You don’t understand,” Bratton said. “My sister was behind the murder of my family.”
SIXTY-ONE
“When I left Agrasom three years ago, I took the Z-91 research and became a target,” Laura Bratton said.
We had taken her directly from the Herald-Press building to Hollywood Station. Charlie and I were in the interview room with Olivia, while Leo and Darby were down the hall with Bernie.
After Monica Linville had jumped to her death, we learned that Bratton’s sister, Susan Calloway, had refused medical treatment when the ambulance arrived to transport her. The attendants realized Calloway’s injuries were superficial and probably self-inflicted. She’d left Malibu in a hurry and her current whereabouts were unknown. We speculated that Calloway had known that Linville had killed her boyfriend and was going after her sister. She’d probably reasoned that Linville would kill her sister before we could stop her, thereby removing any chance someone would tie her to everything.
Bratton continued. “I knew that someone with ties to Agrasom was behind the death of my stepdaughter three years ago and the recent deaths of my family, but I didn’t know it was my sister and her boyfriend until Linville told me just before she died.”
“Your sister and Miller were involved in a scheme to extort money from Agrasom, weren’t they?” Olivia said.
Bratton looked exhausted, like she might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Her daughter Amy was with Jenny and Molly while we conducted the interview.
“I told Susan about the research documents I’d taken from Agrasom when I left the company and quit the CIA,” Bratton said. “She knew the only insurance I had to keep my family safe was the threat to release those documents. She must have told Aaron about them,
and they began killing my family to blackmail the company. Agrasom knew that if they didn’t pay up, I would eventually also be killed and their research would be exposed.”
“Did the CIA know you had the research documents?” Charlie asked.
“Of course. They had initially sent me undercover to work for the company to obtain them. When I told my boss what I had, he went away permanently, if you know what I mean. That’s when the government demanded I turn over the research. I knew then that someone at the top was covering things up for Agrasom. I made a decision not to let that happen.”
“So, you made plans to release the research.”
“Yes. I knew their products caused birth defects and cancer. I planned to release everything until Linville came by and threated me and my family. I told her I’d given the research documents to an unnamed third party with instructions to release them in the event of my death. I don’t think she knew Miller and my sister were behind the blackmail scheme and the killing of my family members until recently.”
“And the third party you gave the research to was Diane Ruskin,” Olivia said.
She nodded. “Diane and I were close friends, going back to our college days. When she realized Linville was in the building and after me, she did as she’d been instructed. Agrasom’s research documents were electronically sent to a dozen news outlets.” She brushed a stream of tears off her cheeks. “Diane gave up her life out of loyalty to me, but at least the truth is finally out.”
“What about the woman who took Amy into the back yard when Lee and his children were killed?” I asked. “Who was that?”
“I think it was my sister in disguise.” Her tears came again. “While Aaron was killing...while he was killing my family, she was using Amy to again leave a message for Agrasom that they meant business. As you probably know now, the letters and numbers that were tattooed on her wrist and the masks placed on Lee and the children was the code name for the research.”
“How does Carmen Todd fit into what happened?” I asked. “We know that before she died she was planning to sue Agrasom for damages caused by their products.”
