Gridlock: The Third Ryan Lock Novel

by Sean Black

  The TV coverage was deliberately vague, but Carrie had already been told by one of her recently acquired sources that the victims were Lawrence Stanner and his wife, Marilyn. Feeling depressed and frustrated, Lock waited until the news report started to loop round on itself, and then, having extracted as much information as there was, began to get dressed.

  Although he and Stanner hadn’t always been in agreement, he’d been a good man and a good cop. To murder anyone was bad enough but it was more of an outrage against society when the crime was committed against a man because his job was to safeguard society. The wife’s murder took it to new levels of depravity. It was a spit in the face to decent people, but it gave Lock a new sense of purpose.

  Carrie stepped from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her. She glanced at the television. ‘They definitely letting her out?’

  Lock shrugged. ‘They’ll have to.’

  ‘She can’t go back to her place. Not after this. You’re gonna have to tell her that, Ryan.’

  ‘If she’ll listen to me.’

  Carrie bit down on her bottom lip. ‘They could come here.’

  Lock rose from the bed. ‘No. No way.’

  ‘Just for a few days.’

  ‘It’s not a good idea. Not with this maniac out there.’

  ‘Who’s even going to know? I mean, how many people do we even see out on the beach here during the day? A dozen, tops? And they’re neighbors. A stranger would be noticed.’

  ‘Carrie …’

  ‘She needs somewhere she can feel safe. She needs us. I’m not even arguing with you. Ask her.’

  Ten minutes later, having lost the argument with Carrie, Lock pulled out on to Pacific Coast Highway, heading for the main LA jail facility in downtown, the Twin Towers. Today Raven had been due to be arraigned on two charges of murder in the first degree, the first being that of Cindy Canyon, and the second being Larry Johns in Arizona. The killings in Moorpark had changed that, with Fay Liepowitz having led an all-out media blitz on the LAPD. Word was that the high-powered team of attorneys and investigators she had assembled was already punching big holes in the LAPD’s case, and the DA’s office was getting the jitters even before they’d got to the arraignment phase.

  Raven Lane was about to be released from custody and her stalker had just sent a blood-drenched message to the entire city that there was no one he was scared of and no lengths to which he wouldn’t go.

  On the way towards downtown, Lock checked in with Ty. With the killer busy in Moorpark, Ty had endured a sleepless but uneventful night babysitting Kevin. Per Raven’s wishes he was about to get him out of bed, make him breakfast and take him to the day center. Ty could report, however, that the area was crawling with law enforcement. There were at least two LAPD patrol cars now parked opposite the house.

  Lock killed the call with the jab of a finger as he rolled on to the Santa Monica freeway. Traffic was heavy, the airwaves clogged with news of the Stanner murders. The chief of police, the head of Robbery Homicide Lieutenant Strickler and the mayor were due to speak at a press conference at ten o’clock.

  Lock’s cell phone rang.

  It was Raven. She sounded as choked as she had when she had first called him. ‘Did you see the news? I can’t believe it.’

  Lock didn’t want to offer the usual platitudes. ‘How are you holding up?’

  ‘They’re releasing me.’ She sounded more sombre than relieved. ‘I need someone to pick me up.’

  ‘You’re asking me?’ Lock said.

  She sighed. ‘I’m on my own otherwise. I need you, Ryan. More than I did before.’

  ‘You’re not still pissed at me over your arrest? Because if you are I want you to know that I didn’t know anything about it until it happened.’

  ‘I know you didn’t. And I’m sorry if I haven’t trusted you as much as I should have.’

  Lock put his cell phone to his chest and took a breath. ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘Still at the Twin Towers facility.’

  ‘They’re definitely letting you out?’

  ‘This vampire of a lawyer of mine seems to think so.’

  Lock scanned the traffic ahead. ‘I’ll be there in forty minutes. Let them know I’m on my way – ask them to call and tell me which entrance I should use.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Raven said, still sounding upset. ‘How’s Kevin?’

  ‘Ty stayed with him last night. He’s fine.’

  Raven’s voice softened a little. ‘That’s good. So, see you in forty minutes?’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ he said.

  He used the slow pace of the traffic on the freeway to think through his strategy. He had to get Raven away from her place without anyone following them, if not because of the maniac who was still on the loose then because of the level of press intrusion they were about to face. It would make the incident with Raul, the paparazzo on the freeway four days ago, look like a warm-up. There would be helicopters buzzing overhead almost constantly. Every move they made would be monitored – not ideal for someone who was being stalked.

  He put in a couple more calls, setting things up for later in the morning, then called Ty again. They’d have to present a united front or they’d have no chance of persuading Raven to do what was in her own best interests. They also had to find a way of making the whole thing seem like her idea.

  Lock took a deep breath. Looking at close-protection work from the outside, most people would assume that the challenge was dealing with the threat. In truth, the challenge was dealing with the person you were supposed to be protecting.

  Two minutes from the jail, as he turned right on to North Vignes Street, Lock got a call from the LAPD telling him he had to register at Reception, then come up to collect Raven. There were a couple of back entrances he could use to take her out.

  As he drove past the front, he saw the media camped six deep on the sidewalk. Most of them, he knew, were there for the press conference relating to the Stanner murders, but clustered alongside them, the paparazzi were hoping for a glimpse of Raven Lane.

  As he signalled to turn into a parking lot, a red Mercedes Benz CL65 AMG roared ahead of him on the outside and cut in front of his fender before disappearing down a ramp into the bowels of the jail. Lock watched it go, then made his turn. He parked, got out and walked across the street towards the phalanx of reporters and photographers.

  Raul headed straight for him, but before anyone could notice them talking, Lock shot out a hand and dragged him to one side.

  ‘What the hell?’ Raul protested, his youthful features bunching into a scowl.

  Lock put a finger to his lips. ‘It’s your lucky day.’

  Raul squared up to Lock, eyes defiant. ‘How that’s, homie?’

  ‘How’d you like an exclusive? Raven Lane being released from custody.’

  Raul looked at him, open-mouthed.

  ‘It’s a simple yes or no, Raul,’ Lock said.

  ‘You fucking with me?’

  ‘Okay, forget it,’ Lock said, releasing his grip on the man and starting to walk away. He didn’t look back.

  Ten yards later Raul was in Lock’s face, his camera swinging around his neck. ‘What kind of deal we talking about?’

  ‘You still driving that Accord?’

  Raul nodded.

  ‘Pull it round to the back. There’s a loading bay. I’m bringing Raven out there. You drive us away, you get some pictures. You do a good enough job of no one seeing you or her, and you have an exclusive. Which makes the pics ten times more valuable, right?’

  Raul glanced back to the small knots of photographers further down the street. ‘Why you pick me?’

  Lock met Raul’s gaze. ‘Because for all your posturing about what a tough guy you are, deep down in that empty shell you call a heart, you know that when I say, “If you screw me over I’ll put you in hospital”, I mean it.’

  That seemed to make sense to Raul. ‘Okay, man. You got yourself a deal.’

  Lock had one final
test for him. ‘Any money you get for the pictures you have to split with Raven. Otherwise she’ll flip out on me for letting you take ’em.’

  Raul shrugged. ‘You got it, man. But it has to be half of net because the agencies take a cut of the gross too.’

  ‘Fine, but here’s one more thing, and this one’s a favor with no monetary reward.’

  Raul took a step back. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I want you to round up all the pictures you have of Raven. All the stuff you never sold or used. You were following her before I was on the scene, correct?’

  ‘Hey, I got nothing to do with this shit, right?’

  ‘Answer the question, Raul.’

  ‘She was someone I covered. But it was only pictures, okay?’

  ‘I believe you.’

  ‘So why do you want them?’ Raul’s eyes were narrow with suspicion.

  ‘Just want to check out a little theory I have going.’ Lock gave him a push. ‘Now go get that car.’

  Forty

  Brushing off the media’s questions, Lock strode up the steps that fronted the Twin Towers jail facility. A tangle of limbs and lenses filled his vision on all sides. He walked with purpose, giving no ground. He never raised his hands above his waist, just kept moving as if the ground in front of him was clear. His forward momentum caused more than one photographer to trip and sprawl on the ground. He stepped over them or, in one case, on them.

  The questions came thick and fast.

  ‘Are you here to see Raven Lane?’

  ‘Will Raven be making a statement?’

  Lock met each one with silence.

  At the entrance, two uniformed cops wedged back the hordes. It didn’t take much effort. It was as if there was a force field at the door. Even the paparazzi knew well enough that the LAPD were utterly humorless when it came to their turf and especially today. One of their own had been killed, as had the officer’s wife. The killer had breached a taboo that lay beyond the outer reaches of even the most crazed gang member.

  A sense of quiet rage seemed to permeate the walls of the building as Lock signed in. It was a rage he felt as well, although he couldn’t afford to allow himself to get caught up in it. The circumstances called for calm.

  In the elevator he was met by stony faces as he was led up to a conference room on the third floor. Stepping out, he noticed that the whole place was busy, reflecting that a hundred-person task force based at the Police Administration Building downtown had been announced by the chief of police that very morning.

  Of course, the phrase ‘serial killer’ had been bandied about, but while the killer fitted the basic definition in so many ways, Lock also knew that he far exceeded it. While serial killers worked to patterns they lacked a burning motive beyond the basic need to take life. Raven’s stalker seemed to be blazing a very definite trail.

  Raven herself was in the room, pacing back and forth. She eyed him coolly when he walked in.

  Lock put out a hand. ‘Fresh start?’

  She nodded. ‘I’d like that. I’m ready to get out of here now.’

  ‘This guy’s not going to stop. You realize that, right? He’s coming after people you know or have known so that he can get to you. None of us can be sure who’s going to be next. It might even be …’ He let Kevin’s name go unspoken.

  Raven’s shoulders seemed to slump. ‘I’ve never run away from anything in my life.’

  Lock smiled. ‘You think running makes you weak?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I’d say it makes you smart.’

  Raven ran a hand through her thick mane of black hair. ‘I have a different idea.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘This guy wants me, right?’

  ‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘There’s too much that could go wrong.’

  ‘Not if you were with me. I might not have asked for any of this to happen, but lots of people are dead because of me.’

  Lock grabbed a folding chair from next to the wall and slid it over to Raven, motioning for her to sit down. Reluctantly, she sat. ‘Look, it’s understandable that you want to put a stop to this, but this is on the LAPD now. It’s down to them. They might not like someone like me being involved, but they’re good people doing a tough job. You and I need to let them do it.’

  Raven stayed close to Lock as he hustled her out of the rear entrance and towards the end of the alley where Raul was waiting in his Honda Accord, the engine running. There was no one else in sight. The cops who’d escorted them out had melted back into the jail. The press and paparazzi were still at the front.

  Raven stepped back when she saw Raul. Lock caught her arm again. ‘Hang on. He’s helping us out. I couldn’t have Ty come down here with Kevin for obvious reasons, and they’ll all know my car by now. They’re not going to look twice at another paparazzo’s vehicle. It’s perfect cover.’

  Raul whipped off a few shots through the open driver’s window.

  ‘Sell me out once, shame on me. Do it twice …’ Raven protested.

  ‘You’ll see some money from the pictures. Isn’t that right, Raul?’

  Raul’s teeth flashed from behind the camera. ‘Fifty-fifty.’

  ‘Come on,’ Lock said. ‘We’ve got a small window to get you away from here.’

  Lock put Raven in the rear passenger seat, then motioned for Raul to let him drive. Raul eyed him warily from his position at the wheel. ‘Man, I’ve seen how you drive,’ he said.

  ‘Move,’ said Lock, muscling him out of the way.

  Raul shrugged, digging into his pocket and handing Lock a memory stick along with his car keys. ‘This is everything I had on my laptop. Every shot going back six weeks, maybe more.’

  Lock glanced at Raven but she had missed the exchange. He tucked the memory stick into his pocket and took the car keys.

  After a final look around to satisfy himself that no one had seen them, Lock pulled out. As they approached the end of the alley, he turned to Raven. ‘Keep your head down.’ He slid the Honda slowly into the traffic on Bauchet Street. When the knots of media and clusters of photographers were dots in the rear-view mirror, he told Raven she could sit up. Raul clicked off a series of snaps as Lock doubled back towards his own car.

  A few minutes later, having looped a four-block radius, and sure that no one was following them, he pulled up. ‘Thanks for the ride,’ he said to Raul.

  Raul sat in the passenger seat flicking through the shots he’d taken of Raven, a grin on his face. Raven peered over his shoulder. ‘I look like shit.’

  Lock glanced back at her from the driver’s seat. ‘I’d say you’ve got more things to be worried about than what you look like.’

  Alone in his car with Raven, Lock pulled out his cell and called Ty. Raven sank down in her seat, her cap low over her eyes as they pulled up at a stop light, traffic gathering around them.

  ‘What’s it like at the house?’ Lock asked his partner.

  ‘Heavy. Lots of press.’

  ‘Okay, listen. Raven’s agreed that we need to get out of here for a while, so I want you to get together some of her stuff and meet us.’

  There was silence at the other end of the line, which worried Lock. Ty wasn’t exactly noted for his silences.

  ‘Ty?’

  ‘We got a problem with Kevin.’

  ‘He’s locked himself in the panic room again?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘So you want me to keep guessing or are you gonna tell me?’

  ‘Two ladies just showed up. They got cops with ’em too.’

  ‘Child Protective Services? When’d they get there?’

  ‘Couple of minutes ago. I’ve been stalling ’em.’

  ‘Did you tell them we’re on our way?’

  ‘They think I’m bullshitting them. They’re saying that unless Kevin’s guardian is here in the next ten minutes they’re taking him into care.’

  Lock checked the time to destination on his sat nav. They were thirty-five minutes away and the traf
fic was heavy.

  ‘We’re going to be a half-hour at least.’

  ‘Damn. I don’t think I can stall them that long. What you want me to do?’

  ‘I don’t know, Ty. Think of something.’

  ‘Like what?’ Ty asked.

  Lock shut his eyes and ground his teeth with frustration. ‘Improvise.’

  Forty-one

  Thirty minutes later, they were home, Raven sprinting from the car before it had even come to a stop. Lock slammed on the brakes, the car mounting the curb and scattering a couple of photographers in the process. He threw open the driver’s door, the engine still turning over and tore after her.

  Raven had run past a patrol car parked in the driveway and was already at the front door, slamming her hand against it, screaming for her brother.

  The car journey had been fraught. She had spent much of it on the phone to Fay Liepowitz who, as well as making another appeal for a public statement, had told her that once Kevin was in the custody of the LA County Department of Children and Family Services and jammed up in the system, getting him returned to her would take some time. Lock had driven as fast as he could, which wasn’t nearly fast enough.

  The front door opened and Raven pushed past Ty. Lock saw a flash of blue uniform as Raven tore inside, her shoes disappearing in a blur up the stairs. Lock reached the door. ‘Have they taken him?’ he asked his partner.

  Ty turned his face so that two patrol officers standing in the downstairs hallway couldn’t see him smile. ‘Not exactly.’

  Lock could hear Raven screaming at someone. Moments later, a middle-aged woman in a business suit clattered down the stairs, briefcase in hand, her face white with fear, and Raven in hot pursuit.

  ‘Get the hell out of my house!’ Raven screamed at her.

  The woman, presumably sent by LA County, brushed past Lock, who stepped in front of Raven. ‘I think you’ve made your point. Maybe if we all took a deep breath it would be more helpful.’

  Raven rounded on Ty. ‘Where is he? Where’s my brother?’

  Ty pointed back up the stairs. ‘He shut himself in the panic room as soon as he heard the doorbell. Nothing I could do about it.’