by Robert Crais
I said, "Take it easy. We're working for her father, Frank Garcia."
The detective had the gun on us now, and the two uni-forme'd cops were aiming past his head. One of them was young, and looked like his eyes were about to do the Pekinese pop-out. If I was the detective, I would've been more scared of them than me.
The detective shouted, "Step back from the door and move to the center. Hands from your bodies."
We did what he said. He toed open the door and stepped through, the two uniforms spreading to cover us from the sides.
"My name's Cole. We're private investigators working for her father."
"Shut up."
"My license is in the wallet. Her father hired us a couple of hours ago. Call him. Ask the woman who lives downstairs."
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"Shut the fuck up and keep those hands where I can see them!"
The detective told one of the uniforms to see the woman, then edged forward, slipped out my wallet, and glanced at the license. He was more tense than he should've been, and I wondered why. Maybe he didn't like my shirt, either.
He brought my wallet to the phone, punched in a number without taking his eyes off me, then mumbled something I couldn't understand.
"We entered the apartment with a key the father provided and at his request. Would you lighten up?"
The uniform reappeared. "Hey, Holstein, they're cool. She says the father called her and told her to expect'm."
Holstein nodded, but the tension stayed.
"Can we put our hands down, or you like the view of our pits?"
"Sure, smart guy. Might as well relax. We're gonna be here awhile."
Pike and I dropped our hands. I guess Frank had raised so much hell that Hollywood Division had finally rolled out.
"I'm surprised you guys are on this. She's only been missing since yesterday."
Holstein painted me with empty cop eyes, then took a seat on the edge of Karen Garcia's desk.
"Not anymore. Karen Garcia's body was found up at Lake Hollywood about an hour ago."
I felt my breath catch. Joe Pike might've stiffened. He might've leaned forward just a hair, but if he did I could not tell.
I said, "Holstein? Are you sure?"
More voices filled the courtyard, speaking with the distinct cadence of police officers. Down below, Mrs. Acuna wailed.
I sat on Karen Garcia's leather couch and stared at the picture of her in the paper crown.
"Joe?"
He did not answer.
"Joe?"
30 ROBERT CRAIS
April, three months prior to the Islander Palms Motel
Karen Garcia said, "I'm a freshman at UCLA. I study child development there, and work with the day care part-time." She was almost a foot shorter than Pike, and he had to remind himself to step back. He had been warned that he tended to stand too close to people, and it made them uncomfortable. He stepped away. She said to one of the little boys, "Daniel, stay with the others, please. I have to speak with this police officer."
Daniel blurped his tongue like an airplane engine and flew back to the group. LAPD patrol officer Joe Pike had already jotted in his notebook that there were eleven children, ages three through five, in the care of Ms. Garcia and her children's group co-teacher, a slim young man with round spectacles and curly hair named Joshua. Joshua appeared nervous, but Officer Pike had learned that people often tensed when dealing with the police. It usually meant nothing.
They were surrounded by children in MacArthur Park, south of Wilshire by the lake in LAPD's Rampart Division. The day was warm and the sky overhead almost white from the smog. Pike's navy-blue uniform soaked up the heat and made the sun seem hotter than it was. The park was filled with women pushing carriages or playing with their preschoolers on the swings and slides. Homeless men were asleep on the grass, and some younger guys who were probably harmless but out of work had drifted away when the radio car had turned into the parking lot, responding to a see-the-woman call regarding a possible child molester. The woman was Karen Garcia, who had phoned 911 with the complaint.
Pike said, "Do you see the man now?"
"No, not now." She pointed to the brick rest rooms at the edge of the parking lot. "He saw us watching him and went behind the rest rooms over there before you got here. I haven't seen him since. He had a camera with a long lens, and I'm sure he was taking pictures of the children. Not just mine, but other kids, too."
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Pike took notes. If the suspect saw her go to the phone, he 'd be long gone. Pike -would look, but the man was gone.
"Joshua asked him what he was doing, and he walked away the first time, but he came back. That's when I called you."
Pike glanced at Joshua, who nodded.
Pike said, "Description?"
"Pardon me?"
"What did the man look like? "
Karen said. "Oh. He was shorter than you. How tall are you? "
"Six-one."
"A lot shorter. I'd say five-eight or nine, but very wide and heavy. Fat, but he didn 't look fat, just fleshy, with stubby fingers."
Pike wrote. "Hair, eyes, clothes, distinguishing characteristics."
"Blond hair, but dyed. I mean, a real do-it-yourself job."
Joshua said, "Long and slicked back. Like, how many human beings still use Brylcreem? "Joshua grinned when he said it, maybe trying to feel out Pike's sense of humor or maybe just trying to dispel his own nervousness. He looked disappointed when Pike did not respond.
Ms. Garcia said, "He was wearing dark slacks and a white shirt with a kind of vest, a brown pattern of some kind, and he was carrying the camera." She waited for Joshua to chime in. "Ididn't get close enough to see anything else."
Joshua said, "Zit scars."
Ms. Garcia stepped closer to Pike and touched his arm. "Are you going to find him? "
Pike closed the notebook, and stepped away from her. "We 'II radio a dispatch to other cars in the area. If we spot him, we 'II question him."
Ms. Garcia wasn't happy with that. "That's all?"
"No. We 'II also beat him to death."
Joshua stared, uncertain, but Karen Garcia laughed, showing even white teeth and a strong laugh which Pike liked a very great deal. "To protect and to serve."
32 ROBERT CRAIS
"Yes, ma 'am."
Karen Garcia said, "You don't have to say ma 'am, for God's sake."
The little boy with the blurping sound raced away again, and Joshua chased him.
Pike said, "We 'II do what we can, but if you see him again, call right away."Pike handed her a card. "Tell them you spoke to car two-adam-six."
Ms. Garcia looked up at him with the dark brown eyes, as if she was trying to see through his sunglasses. Calm eyes that Pike also liked. "I thought I was speaking to a man, nota car."
Pike said, "Two-adam-six. You have a good day, ma 'am."
Pike went back to two-adam-six, where his partner sat behind the wheel, idling with the air conditioning on. Pike slipped into the shotgun side, putting his nightstick in its holder. Woz didn 't look at him, smoking a cigarillo as he watched a group ofHonduran girls in halter tops. Gang bait. Pike said, "Suspected pedophile with a camera. Got a description."
His partner shrugged. "Sofuckin 'what."
"We 're on it."
"Maybe you."Hard, with an edge to it.
"You going to retire? "
Wozniak 'sjaw clenched. He shook his head once.
"Then we 're going to work this."
Wozniak glared at Pike another moment, then sighed and seemed to relax. Accepting it. "The guy a weenie wagger? "
"Shutterbug."
Pike recited the description and related what Ms. Garcia had said. Halfway through, Wozniak waved him quiet. "Yeah, yeah, I know the guy. Lennie De Ville. Another fuckin 'perv, be better off with a bullet in his head."
"Got a last-known? "
Wozniak was staring out the window again, watching the paddleboats on the lake. "Creep li
ke this moves around, livin' in motels and weeklies and jumping the rent when he can." Wozniak drew deep on the cigarillo, then rolled down his
L.A. REQUIEM 33
window far enough to drop it outside. "I'll ask around." Woz-niak looked past Pike, and scowled. "Nowfuckin'what?" Pike turned, and saw Ms. Garcia walking toward them.
Karen Garcia watched the officer walk back to his car, unable to take her eyes off the way his ass worked beneath the tight uniform pants, and the way the heavy John Brown belt rode his trim waist. His arms were tanned and muscular without being bulky, his hair short and thick, his face lean and handsome.
Joshua said, "Better reel in your tongue before you trip."
She felt herselfflush. "Is it that obvious? "
"Mm-hm. Maria, let me help with that, honey." Joshua bent to tend to one of the children whose shoe had come untied. It was almost time for the van from the day care, so they needed to start back across the park.
Karen couldn 't help but look back at the young officer. She liked the way he carried himself, and her stomach did a little flip when he 'd stood next to her. She had called the police with serious concerns, but when he arrived it had been tough to keep her mind on what she wanted to say. He was older, but he couldn't have been any more than in his late twenties. She wondered if he thought she was a child. She 'd said she was in college, hadn't she? The thoughts swirled in her head, and she smiled even wider.
Joshua rolled his eyes. "Karen, please, not in front of the children!"
She laughed and shoved Joshua.
Watching Officer Pike slide into his car, she was suddenly overwhelmed with a fierce urge to see what was behind his dark glasses. She had tried to see his eyes and could not, but now she had to have a look.
Karen's pulse hammered all the harder as she fought the urge to do something she had never done before. In a moment the two officers would drive away and she would never see him again. The next thing she knew, she was walking hard toward their car, taking long crazy steps as if some secret creature had taken possession of her. The two officers within
34 ROBERT CRAIS
were watching her approach. Pike's window came down and he looked out other. "Yes, ma 'am ? "
Karen Garcia leaned forward with her hands on the window. "I have a request."
He stared at her, and her mouth went dry. She absolutely knew that she was making a fool of herself. "Would you take off your glasses, please? I'd like to see your eyes."
The older officer made a face like he wanted to spit; irritated, as if she had interrupted something. "Oh, for Christ's sake."
Officer Pike took off his dark glasses, and looked at her.
She felt her breath catch. His eyes were the most liquid blue, the blue of the sky over the high deserts ofSonora, the blue of the ocean where it has no bottom and is infinitely clean. But it wasn 't the blue that stopped her breath. For just a moment when the glasses were first pulled away, she could have sworn that those eyes were filled with the most terrible and long-endured pain. Then the pain was gone and there was only the blue.
Karen Garcia said, "Wouldyou like to go to a movie with me this Friday night? "
Pike stared at her for so many heartbeats that she wondered if she 'd really spoken the words aloud. But then, slowly, he fitted the dark glasses over the incredible eyes again and put out his hand for her to take. "My name is Joe. May I have your phone number? "
When he touched her, she quivered.
Pretty soon the entire apartment building knew, and word spread through the block. I wanted to ask Pike how he felt, but not in front of these other men.
"How did she die, Holstein?"
"I don't know."
"Was she murdered?"
"I don't know, Cole. I get a call out telling me to come here and secure the vic's apartment until the leads show up. That's what I'm doing."
"You must know something. You got a fast ID."
"Whoever found the body pulled an ID off her before they called it in. Looks like she's been there since yesterday."
Pike said, "Has her father been notified?"
Holstein glanced at Pike's shoulder tats, then his face. "Sonofabitch. You're Joe Pike."
When Pike left the job it hadn't gone well. A lot of cops didn't like him. More than a few hated him.
"Has her father been notified?" Voice softer now.
I went over, stepping in front of Joe. "Her father hired us to find her, and now that's done. We should let him know."
Holstein went to the couch and dropped his weight on it. The leather sighed. "We're gonna wait here for the leads. They're going to want to know what you know."
Pike touched my shoulder. "They can ask us later. Let's go."
Holstein reached under his jacket. "I don't think so."
"What're you going to do, Holstein? Shoot it out? C'mon, does Lou Poitras have the table today?"
"Yeah." Lou Poitras has been one of my closest friends for 35
36
ROBERT CRAIS
years, and had recently moved from North Hollywood Division to the Hollywood Homicide table.
"Then call him. Poitras and I are tight. The leads can catch up to us at the father's. They're going to want to see him anyway."
We were still arguing about it when the phone rang. Hoi-stein answered, trying to make his voice anonymous. He listened, then held the phone toward me, looking impressed. "For you, hotshot. I don't know how you rate, but it's the watch commander."
I took the phone and identified myself. A man whose voice I didn't recognize said, "Hold on."
Another man, this one with a slight Spanish accent, came on. He identified himself as Frank's lawyer, Abbot Montoya. "Mr. Cole, I'm here with the Hollywood Division watch commander at Mr. Garcia's request, along with a representative of City Councilman Maldenado's office. You're aware that Mr. Garcia and Councilman Maldenado are personally close, aren't you?"
"No." He wasn't saying it for me. He was saying it for the people in the room with him at Hollywood Division.
"Frank would like you and Mr. Pike to visit the murder site. He wants you to witness his daughter's situation." Situation. There's a word for you. "After, Frank would like you to go to his home and describe Karen's ... this is awkward for me, too, Mr. Cole. I'm Karen's godfather."
"I understand."
"He would like you to tell him whatever you've found out about what happened. I know you're not being compensated, but we'll take care of that."
"There's nothing to take care of."
"Yes, well, we'll discuss that later. You and Mr. Pike will do this?"
"Yes, sir. If the police let us."
"They'll let you. And after, you'll see Mr. Garcia?"
"Yes."
"The watch commander would like to speak with Detective Holstein now, please."
L.A. REQUIEM 37
Holstein listened for another minute, then said, "Yes, sir," and hung up. When he put down the phone, his eyes were thoughtful.
Without a word he went to the door, held it open, and said, "She's on the west side of the reservoir. They're sealing the lake, but Lieutenant Poitras will be expecting you."
We left, and Holstein slammed the door.
It was early afternoon by the time we once more wound our way up Lake Hollywood Drive. Uniformed officers were still clearing the park. We passed runners and walkers on their way out, but pretty soon we came to half a dozen radio cars parked in the middle of the road with four unmarked sedans. An Asian-American man was fishing a large tackle box out of the rear of a white station wagon with L.A. COUNTY MEDICAL EXAMINER stenciled on the side. He would be the coroner investigator. As he went through the gate and down along the trail to the water, a cop who looked like a miniature King Kong came up to stand just off the road, waiting for us with his arms crossed. He was so big from a lifetime of pumping weights that his jacket fit him like a sausage skin about to split.
I said, "Hey, Lou."
Lou Poitras put out his hand and w
e shook. He didn't offer to shake with Pike. "Understand you were trying to find her."
"That's right. You got a suspect yet?"
"Take it easy. I've been here less than an hour." Poitras glanced at Pike. "I hear you knew the girl. I'm sorry."
