by Bill Bernico
Matt stepped forward and said, “Gimme your purse, lady,” and then waited for further instructions.
“That’s all, number five,” Eric said. “Step back again.” He turned to the lady. “Well?”
“I just don’t know,” she said. “Number five looks so much like number three that they could be brothers. But it’s definitely one of those two guys.”
“You’d better be sure,” Eric instructed. “So, which one is it?”
The woman wrung her hands, looked both men over again and confidently announced, “It’s number five. I’m sure of it. He’s got those sinister eyes and I’ll never forget that voice. It’s him, all right.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Henning,” Eric said. “We’ll be in touch.” He led her out of the viewing room and instructed his sergeant to show her out. He turned back to the one way glass and said, “Thank you gentlemen. That’ll be all for now.”
Matt turned and stepped down off the stage and back out into the hall where Eric was waiting for him. “How’d I do?” he said to Eric.
“You’re lucky I know you and that I know where you were last Friday at one-thirty,” Eric said, switching to his southern sheriff’s voice. “Or you’d be in big trouble, boy.”
“What are you talking about, Eric?” Matt said, somewhat puzzled by now.
“She picked you out of the lineup as the man who took her purse,” Eric said.
Matt snapped his fingers. “Busted,” he said. “Do I still get my twenty bucks?”
Eric pulled a small pad from his pocket and jotted something down on it, handing it to Matt. “Give this to the desk sergeant on your way out and he’ll pay you. Thanks for coming down, Matt.”
“That’s it?” Matt said.
Eric shrugged and spread his hands. “Unless you want to pick up a few extra bucks washing patrol cars.”
Matt held up one palm toward Eric. “I think I’ll pass on that tempting offer. See you later, Eric.” Before he left, Matt added, “You might want to keep an eye on number three. He looked a little like me, didn’t you think?”
Eric nodded. “We’re on him.”
Matt turned in his voucher slip at the front desk, collected his twenty dollars and drove back toward the office. He was just six blocks away, waiting at the red light to change. When it turned green, Matt proceeded through the intersection and had gone just half a block further when a man dashed out between two parked cars on the opposite side of the street. He hadn’t bothered looking both ways and ran right out into the west bound lanes. A green pickup truck struck the man in the hip, sending him sailing through the air. The pedestrian landed in Matt’s lane, coming down right in front of him. Matt stood on the brakes and managed to stop just inches short of running the man over.
Matt hurried out of his car and quickly knelt next to the man on the pavement. He was still breathing but obviously in a lot of pain. The man tried to get up, but couldn’t seem to manage it. Matt held him down and said, “Don’t try to move. An ambulance is on its way.” Matt removed his jacket and rolled it up in a ball, placing it under the man’s head. “Stay still,” he told the man.
It took less than a minute for a black and white patrol car to pull up to the scene. An officer got out of his car and approached Matt, who was still kneeling. He looked at the pedestrian and then back at Matt. “Did you hit him?” the cop said.
Matt shook his head and gestured with his chin at the green pickup truck that had stopped opposite Matt’s car in the other lane. “That truck hit him and he landed in front of my car. I managed to stop before I rolled over him, too.”
“Stick around,” the cop told Matt. “I’ll need to get some information from you.”
“Sure,” Matt said, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and dialing his office. He got Elliott on the first ring. “Dad, it’s Matt. I’m going to be a while.”
“Milking your hour with Eric?” Elliott said.
“Dad,” Matt said. “I’m just down the street. There’s been an accident.”
“Are you all right, Matt?” Elliott said.
“I wasn’t involved,” Matt said and proceeded to explain his involvement in this pedestrian accident.
“How’s the guy doing?”
“I don’t know,” Matt said. “He tried to get up when I first got to him. Now he’s just lying there, moaning.”
“Let me know how it goes,” Elliott said. “I have to take another call. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Elliott took the call on line two and found out it was Eric, calling for Matt. “He’s not back yet,” Elliott explained. “He just called from somewhere down the street. I guess there was some kind of pedestrian accident on the boulevard and he was right there when it happened.”
“Is he all right?” Eric said.
“Sure,” Elliott said. “He wasn’t involved in the accident, but he saw it happen. He’s there now with one of your officers.”
“Sorry to cut this short, Elliott,” Eric said. “But I have to check in with that officer. I’ll get back to you later.”
Eric hung up his phone and picked up the police band transmitter. He got through to the traffic cop a couple seconds later. “Is the ambulance there yet?” Eric said.
“Yes, sir,” the patrolman replied. “They’re just pulling up now.”
“Have you checked on the victim?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how is he?” Eric said.
“He didn’t make it, Lieutenant,” the cop told him. “He died just a minute ago. Better let Doctor Reynolds know about it. They’ll be bringing this guy there in a few minutes.” The cop was referring to the county medical examiner, Andy Reynolds.
Matt was standing now, looking at the crowd of people who had lined both sides of the street by now. Matt looked past them at the young kid you had been driving the green pickup truck. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. He sat there in his truck, shaking and crying and trying not to look at the man who’d bounced off his bumper. There was a second cop on the scene now, trying to take down the kid’s information in between sobs and convulsions.
Matt spent another twenty minutes with the first officer on the scene, giving him his account of what had happened. With Matt’s testimony as well as that from several people on the street, no charges were filed against the driver of the green pickup truck. The office on the scene told Matt that he could leave but that he might be called on for further questions if the need arose. Matt picked up his rolled up jacket and got back into his car.
“Gees, what a morning,” Matt said when he came back into the office. “First that goofy woman picks me out of the lineup and then the kid on the street darts out into traffic. I don’t think I can take one more surprises.” Matt hung his jacket back up and sat at his desk.
“You were picked out of the lineup?” Elliott said, smirking.
“I must just have that kind of face that people find guilty,” Matt said. “Still, it got me out of the office for a while and I can always use the twenty bucks.”
*****
The weekend came and went and Monday found Matt back at his desk. Elliott had not yet come in and Matt used the opportunity to browse through their old client database, looking for the name of a former client that he wanted to talk to. He’d lost himself in the database and before he knew it, it was after nine-thirty. Elliott usually called if he was going to be this late. Matt dialed Elliott’s cell phone and waited as it rang nine times before he hung up and tried his father at home. Gloria answered.
“Hi Mom,” Matt said. “Is Dad there by any chance?”
“I thought he was at the office with you,” Gloria said.
“Well, he not and Dad’s never been this late before.”
“Did you try calling Lieutenant Anderson?” Gloria said. “You dad likes to visit Eric every now and then and maybe he just forgot to call in. Why don’t you give Eric a call and then call me back when you find out.”
“Sure will,” Matt said and hung up.
He dialed the twelfth precinct and got Eric on the first ring.
“Anderson,” Eric said.
“Eric, it’s Matt Cooper. Is my dad there with you?”
Eric was silent for a moment. “This is getting spooky,” Eric said. “I was just about to call Elliott just before you called me.”
“Why?” Matt said.
“Henry Lund escaped from the North Hollywood police station this morning,” Eric explained.
“How could he get away from a lockup like that?” Matt said. “What, were they sleeping when he just walked out?”
“Sergeant O’Hara called me to let me know what happened,” Eric said. “They were holding him for hitting Elliott’s van and taking off. They were set to transfer him here to the twelfth this morning. He slugged the cop who was escorting him out of the building and took his keys. He was able to unlock the cuffs they had on him and the key ring also held the key to the patrol car, so he took that, too. They found it abandoned half an hour later in Griffith Park.”
“Sounds like he was headed this way,” Matt said. “Hey, wait a minute. You don’t suppose he caught up with Dad, do you?”
“Anything’s possible,” Eric said. “Elliott did say that the guy saw him holding his wife on the shoulder last week. And if he’s the jealous type he could have seen Elliott as the reason his wife didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.”
“That’s crazy, Eric,” Matt said. “If he already killed his wife, what would he want with Dad?”
“Who knows what goes on in some of these twisted minds these days?” Eric said. “He’s probably lost all reason and logic. That, and he was probably already messed up in the head. He’d have to be to beat his wife to a pulp like he did.”
“Eric, we’ve got to find Dad and right away,” Matt said. “I can’t do this alone. I’m going to need your help.”
“I’m tied up on this end right now, Matt,” Eric explained. “I can send a couple of detectives over to see you. Tell them everything you know about your father’s daily habits or where he might have gone. Also tell them all you know about the incident on the highway. The more they know, the easier you’ll make it for them to start looking. I should be able to finish up my business later this afternoon and join you in your search.”
“Thanks, Eric,” Matt said. “I really appreciate this.”
*****
Elliott blinked his eyes, trying to see something, anything. His immediate world was pitch black. He could feel some sort of fabric on his face and tried reaching for it, only to find that his hands had been bound and a black sack had been slipped over his head. He was seated on a hard wooden chair, his hands bound behind him. He could feel ropes around his ankles, as well. He tried standing, but couldn’t. All four of his limbs had been tied to the chair.
Elliott thought he heard light footsteps padding toward him. He cocked his head and listened. They were footsteps and they stopped very close to where he sat bound hand and foot. Without warning a hand caught Elliott on the side of his head, nearly knocking him sideways to the floor. The chair teetered on two legs before settling back onto all four. Elliott’s left ear rang out with a steady, aching ring that made his head swirl in a rainbow of colors.
“Do I have your attention now, Mr. Cooper?” a gruff voice said from somewhere behind Elliott.
Elliott quickly turned his head toward the sound of that voice. “Who are you,” Elliott demanded. “What do you want with me?”
“Thought I didn’t see you groping my wife, didn’t you?” the voice said. “Well, no one, and that includes you, is going to take her from me. Do you understand?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elliott insisted. “Now tell me who the hell you are and why you’re doing this to me.”
In an instant the black sack was pulled from Elliott’s head and he found himself staring into a bright light. He could just make out the silhouette of a man standing just behind the light bulb. Elliott blinked repeatedly and tried to look away from the insistent light.
The voice started again. “The only reason you’re not dead already, Mr. Cooper, is so that I can tell you exactly why I’m going to kill you. Then we can take our time and do this up right. I don’t know if you’ll enjoy it, but you can bet I will.”
“Who are you?” Elliott demanded. “I should at least know who it is that thinks they need to kill a stranger.”
Elliott’s captor leaned closer to the light bulb now and Elliott could clearly make out a full head of silver hair. Oh great, he thought. This has to be Madeline Crenshaw’s ex-husband. By now Elliott figured he had nothing to lose by speaking his mind. Besides, he was playing for time, as much time as he could get.
“You owe me for a van mirror,” Elliott said, trying to keep from sounding as scared as he was. “Those things run a hundred buck easy. Come on, fork it over.”
The absurdity of Elliott’s statement struck Henry Lund as funny and he had to laugh. “Mr. Cooper,” Lund said. “I would think a mirror for your van would be the least of your problems, wouldn’t you?”
Elliott had to think of something else to occupy Lund’s thoughts. He didn’t wants Lund’s thought to drift back around to what he was going to do to Elliott. “Why’d you have to kill Madeline? What did she ever do to you?”
A foot came out of the darkness and kicked Elliott’s chair over backwards. Elliott hit the floor with a thud buy he’d managed to pick his head up before it struck the floor.
“You don’t get to talk about my wife, Mr. Cooper,” Lund said. “She’d have come back to me if you and that meddling son of yours hadn’t interfered. And when I’m through with you, I think I’ll pay Matthew a visit. Think he’ll like that? I know I will.”
Elliott struggled on the floor now, trying to free himself from his bonds. “You leave Matt alone,” Elliott said through clenched teeth.”
“Or you’ll what?” Lund said and then laughed maniacally.
Elliott’s breath was coming faster now and his wrists ached as he tried to free himself. He stopped struggling and tried to slow his breathing down.
*****
Two men in suits walked into Matt’s office and identified themselves, showing Matt their gold shields and I.D. cards. One of the men was carrying a brown leather briefcase. Matt pulled Elliott’s client chair over to his own desk and invited the two men to sit. Matt sat behind his desk and looked at the two detectives, who were named Pierce and Beaudry. Detective Pierce told Matt what Eric had already told them about Henry Lund, how he’d beat his wife to death and how he had escaped from custody in North Hollywood.
Beaudry spoke up. “There’s no doubt in our minds that Lund is after you and your father for something to do with the chance meeting you two had with his wife. It could have been a harmless interaction from your perspective, but from Lund’s perspective, your father could have been getting too friendly with her. And, as you know, he has a violent temper that resulted in his wife’s death. We have to find him before he finds your father.”
“If he hasn’t already,” Pierce added.
Matt looked up at him, alarm spreading over his face. “What can we do?” Matt said. “Where can we start looking?”
“Does Elliott carry a cell phone?” Beaudry said.
“Yes, we both do,” Matt told him. “Why?”
“Can you give me the number?”
Matt flipped open his own phone, found the address book and read Elliott’s cell number to Beaudry. “I already tried calling him, but no one answered,” Matt said.
“We’re not going to call the number,” Pierce said, following Beaudry’s train of thought. “Even if Lund has your father and even if he found his phone and shut it off, we might still be able to triangulate his location from the SIM card inside. It’s worth a try.”
Pierce laid his briefcase on Matt’s desk and opened it. From inside the case, he retrieved a small mechanical gadget that looked similar to a touch pad, like all the kids had these days. Pierce turned it on an
d wiped his fingers across the screen until several sets of icons appeared. He selected one icon in particular and tapped it. With a separate cell phone, Pierce called the company that manufactured Elliott’s cell phone and got a technician on the other end. He looked at the cell phone number Matt had given him and typed it into the screen, all the while holding his cell phone to his shoulder and getting information from the tech. A moment later a map of the city appeared with a small red light glowing steady in the upper right corner.
“Thank you,” Pierce said into the phone before closing it and dropping it back into his pocket. He held up the touch pad now to show his partner the location that had appeared on the screen. Then he tilted it toward Matt. “I don’t know if Elliott’s there, but it’s a sure bet that his phone is. Let’s get moving.”
The three of them left the office, all riding in the car the two detectives had come in. Matt slid into the back seat while Pierce sat in the front passenger seat, monitoring the touch pad while Beaudry followed his directions to the spot indicated on the map.
“Turn right at the next corner,” Pierce told Beaudry.
They drove on, updating the information from the screen. “Three more blocks then turn left,” Pierce said. Within fifteen minutes, the blinking red light on the screen was blinking rapidly now. “We’re close,” Pierce said. “Pull over.”
The three of them got out and proceeded on foot up the sidewalk, Pierce keeping an eye on the screen. They came to a large white house that was situated next to a vacant lot, overgrown with weeds. “This way,” Pierce said, gesturing with the touch pad. Beaudry reached into his jacket and produced a .38 snub-nosed revolver. Matt looked down and saw that he’d grabbed the gun from his underarm holster. He held it out in front of him as he followed the two detectives.
At the other end of the vacant lot, Pierce pointed to the back door of the large white house. The red light on the touch pad had now become a steady red light. “In there,” Pierce said, pointing to the back door. He turned the touch pad off and slipped it into his jacket pocket, replacing it with his own weapon. Pierce looked at Beaudry. “Cover the front door, Al. Matt and I will go in the back.”
