“Allowing for the dental record ID.”
“Yes and Nick, at that moment, I felt the cold fingers of death creep down my spine. I had been very fond of Cicero. He wasn’t necessarily a good man, but he was a real man and he was my friend.”
“Who ID’d the body?”
He gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “I called Dominique and even though we’ve never been friends, we’ve always respected one another. She didn’t take it well. Estranged or not, you don’t disconnect overnight from someone you’ve spent over twenty years with. Dominique requested that I make arrangements to have Cicero cremated and buried at Forest Grove.”
He drained his water and grabbed another, spun the cap and took a long drink.
“In retrospect, I should have flown back to L.A. immediately, and not waited as long as I did to contact Jade. I just couldn’t bear to make the phone call.” Halladay paused and his grey eyes misted.
“Yeah, those calls are tough to make.”
He nodded. “Instead, I stayed there for another three days. Cicero’s death reminded me of my own mortality, which I denied by pretending I was still young and in love. On Tuesday morning, my new girlfriend told me she was married and lived in Minneapolis with an insurance executive. Somehow I wasn’t surprised. We flew back to the States together and separated at LaGuardia. It was not a heartfelt good-bye.”
I felt no sympathy and wondered how many times Halladay had had his way with pretty young things, based on his position and innate power. In the silence, we both knew it was time for me to make the next move.
“When I met Jade just before you phoned, we were followed by Officer Koncak, disguised as a homeless person. He’s the same officer who contacted her, along with an Officer Fishburne, when she got back to L.A.”
Alarm played across Halladay’s leathery face, settling in his eyes. “Why would he follow you?”
“Why does anyone tail someone?”
“Information.”
“Yeah, and based on my source, he’s not the real Koncak, who works out of Mission Hills PD, and is clean, as is the real Fishburne.”
“Is your source reliable?”
“Very.”
Halladay shook his head. “Shit. This is bad.”
“You’re the expert, but I believe we have solid ground here for a criminal investigation. As we both know, covering up a man’s death and impersonating a police officer is no small matter. Neither is murder which, I imagine, is what we’re looking at here.”
Halladay said nothing, clenching and unclenching his fists. He stopped and locked eyes with me. “I see one very serious flaw in your thinking; Cicero was not popular either with local law enforcement, or the Feds. When a bad guy gets whacked, no one, particularly cops, give a damn.”
“You’re right, and that’s why I’m convinced Jade and Richard are in danger.”
Halladay shook his head stubbornly. “Let’s assume they are, although I’m not convinced; either way, the police won’t do anything unless they have proof.”
“But they all know you and could give Jade pro--”
Halladay exploded. “--Shit, Crane, don’t be ridiculous! If I’d wanted to deal with idiots, I wouldn’t have hired you.”
“Wait a second!”
“How are they going to protect her? This isn’t RICO, so what’s in it for them?”
I’ve learned that it is not a good idea in this business to react emotionally to someone else’s outburst, unless it’s absolutely necessary. It was obvious that Halladay didn’t want this matter made public and I couldn’t blame him. The esteemed firm of Halladay, Reynolds, Tosh & Mukaskey would look downright foolish if it was revealed that it been suckered by bogus cops, in the murder of one of their more notorious clients. As a practical matter he was right; the cops do suck when it comes to protecting people, unless, of course, they have a deeply vested interest in keeping them safe.
On the other hand, we were sitting on a stack of felonies that could land us all in stir. I comforted myself with the thought that if this ever came out, in all likelihood, the charges would be federal. There are far worse places to spend time than in minimum or low security federal prisons. Halladay and I could amuse ourselves playing basketball and tennis.
He stood up, drained his Evian, and studied me. “You will protect Jade Lamont and you will do a damned good job of it. You will also find Richard, if it’s humanly possible, not that the kid is worth it, but, his sister loves him, and I promised Cicero that I would always look after them if anything ever happened to him. If you fail me, you will never work in Los Angeles again.”
He crossed to his desk, mumbled something into the telephone, then made me a copy of Cicero’s death certificate, which he placed in a manila folder. Lindsay came in, handed him an envelope and left. He placed it in the manila folder and handed it to me.
I took it and stood up. He eyes drilled into me again. “We’re clear, Crane?”
“Yep.”
Lindsay was waiting for me at the door to Halladay’s office. She gave me a curt smile and led me back through the maze to the huge empty lobby. I thought she was looking at me strangely, but it could have been my imagination. When I reached the lobby of One Bunker Hill, I wished fervently for an emergency exit. None appeared and I had no choice but to exit through the revolving door onto 5th Street.
Chapter IV – Safe House
The Santa Ana winds were stronger now, and fingers of ominous gray-brown haze filled the sky to the northwest. I stood in the lee of the building scanning for taxis and unwelcome faces. It was five long blocks back to City Plaza.
People experience anxiety in different ways. Some develop headaches and turn into tyrants. Others experience heart palpitations, flushing and a sure knowledge of imminent disaster. My particular symptom is a swirling pressure somewhere in my head that scrambles my thoughts and makes it hard to think straight. I was reassured by the familiar feeling of my Colt Commander tucked into the small of my back. I’ve shot two men in the course of my career, both times in self-defense, and both guys survived. One walks with a limp and is doing 10 to 25 at Folsom. The other is in a wheelchair at Soledad.
I hailed the first taxi heading west on 5th. The turbaned, bearded driver spun a left on Figueroa and headed east on 6th.
I dialed Cassady. “Hi, Baby,” she said. “How’s your day going?”
That’s a joke we have. In today’s world, people are prone to using that greeting so Cassady beats them to the punch.”
“It’s been interesting.”
“How’s Brad?”
“He’s good. He and Bobby are working together. What have you heard about the fires?”
“They’re bad but nowhere close to us.”
“What about the Whittier hills?”
“Not much wind here. So far so good. Maleah had a good day and she’s off with Salina and her grandmother. They’re having bobas.”
“Okay. Gotta get back to work.”
“What time’re you gonna be home?”
“Around eight.”
“Don’t be late.”
The taxi spat me out on Grand. I tipped the driver and he shot back into traffic. It was a little early to meet Jade, so I considered wandering around the City Plaza shops, but decided against it and took the elevator up to Waldrop & Hemsley. I had no sense of being followed. When I got to the lobby, I went inside and spoke to the receptionist.
“I’m here to meet Ms. Lamont.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“Yes. Please let her know I’m here.”
“Sure.”
The lobby is, if anything, even larger than the lobby at Halladay’s firm. The artwork is different, though. Instead of paintings, Waldrop & Hemsley favor polyurethane wall hangings, plastic sheets of random shimmering color that appear to signify nothing, other than an attempt to please the eye. I sat in an expensive, black leather armchair and waited. Five minutes later the receptionist walked over.
“Ms. Lamont is runn
ing behind, but asked that you wait.”
I glanced at my phone. 4:15. “Okay.”
She went back to her desk and I went back to my deliberations: what kept tripping me up were several simple but complex questions. How did Cicero’s killers manage to get his body cremated and interred at Forest Grove when it was never at the coroner’s office in the first place? If Halladay’s office had really given the coroner’s office instructions to release Cicero’s body, wouldn’t they have checked to make sure everything proceeded according to plan? And why was Halladay so unconcerned with finding Cicero’s murderer? If he’d really been so close to him, that should have been as much a priority as protecting Jade and finding Richie. Yet he seemed more concerned that I keep my mouth shut. I opened the envelope, slid out the check and blinked several times, but the zeroes didn’t go away. I replaced it and took a long, deep breath to steady myself.
Her touch was gentle and brought me back to Earth. Jade stood there, a single worry line cleft horizontally across her forehead. She removed her hand from my arm and I stood up. “Sorry I kept you waiting,” she offered. “I had a deadline.”
“Not a problem,” I smiled.
“You look tired.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“You wanna get some coffee?”
“I’m going to move my car to your parking garage. When I’m ready, I’ll call and come up to get you.”
She frowned. “We’re going somewhere?”
“I’ll explain everything as soon as we’re on the road.”
“I’m in danger, aren’t I?”
“We’re all in danger,” I replied cryptically.
I left her standing there, her fingers clenching the strap of her Dolce and Gabana handbag. I hit the street and hailed a cab. Same beard, different driver. I had him drop me off in front of the library, and took the outside elevator down to the parking garage, getting off and on several times to shake anyone who might be following me before retrieving my car. When I reached City Plaza, I pulled into the garage and parked three floors down. I buzzed Jade, took the elevator back up to the 32nd floor, and found her sitting in the same armchair I’d recently occupied.
“Time to move.”
“What about my car?”
We reached the street and cut through the downtown maze, swung down 2nd toward Alameda and as nearly as I could tell, no one was on our tail. I called Bobby. No answer. Ditto with Brad, but I connected with Audrey.
“Where are you?”
“Mickey’s.”
“Any news?”
“Negative.”
“Anybody seen Richie or Arnold?”
“Possibly. Nothing definite. I did put the word out.”
“Okay. I need you to go to a Goodwill and buy Jade a disguise.”
“What?”
“And bring it to Bobby’s place.”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to go to a second hand store, buy a disguise for Jade and bring everything to Bobby’s house?”
“Precisely.”
“Cool. I’m going to turn her into a hag.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“I hate leaving Mickey’s though. Richard or Arnold could walk in the door at any minute, and half of L.A. is offering to buy me drinks.”
“You’re still there?”
She hung up.
We crossed Alameda and took the back route to Highway 10. It took us twenty minutes to travel the three miles to City Terrace, during which time Jade just stared out of the window, occasionally shooting me a wary glance. I turned off the highway and pulled into the gravel parking lot at Leo’s Brake and Paint Shop. He’s been running this place for 30 years, and it’s a slice out of old Mexico. Nobody but Leo speaks English, and the corridos play constantly. I pulled right into the paint shop and parked. Some of the help looked up curiously from behind their spray guns but kept on working.
“I’ll be right back.”
Leo is from Sinaloa, and grew up among cocaine traffickers, but has never sold a gram. Instead, he saves his money and invests in real estate.
“Orale, Nick.”
“Hey, Leo.”
As we shook hands, he looked at me intently. “I been hearing shit about you, Holmes.”
“Yeah?”
“The street’s got ears.”
“What’s it saying?”
“Watch your back, compadre.”
“I am, believe me.”
“So what you need?”
“Paint my car Forest Green.”
“For real?”
“Yeah, but I don’t need it to be showroom.”
“A cover up, ‘eh?” he grinned knowingly.
“How much?”
“$250.”
“Can I pick it up in the morning?”
“Oh, come on, Holmes. The paint ain’t even gonna be dry.”
I looked at him but didn’t respond.
He sucked on his teeth, made a disapproving face and grinned. “Okay.”
“Can you give us a ride to Bobby’s?”
“That crazy vato?”
“It’s the safest place I know.”
“Orale. Let’s go.”
Leo dropped us off and rumbled away.
Jade gave Bobby’s place the once over and frowned. “What are we doing here?”
“This clapboard mansion belongs to my very good friend, Bobby Moore. You’re going to stay here for a while until we sort things out. He’ll take good care of you, and you’ll be very, very safe.”
Jade watched curiously as I tested the fence with the back of my hand. “What’re you doing?”
“Had the juice been on, if I’d had my fingers the other way, the muscles would’ve involuntarily contracted and locked around the fence.”
“Wait. It’s electrified?”
“I told you, you’d be safe.”
“You weren’t joking.”
I negotiated the combination padlock and we climbed the hill to his door. Our unexpected visit aroused his goats and they sniffed us eagerly. Bobby keeps a spare key under a rock in a weed patch that might once have been a garden. I retrieved it, unlocked the door, and we stepped inside. Jade’s eyes swept from the big flat screen, to the unadorned walls, to the stacks of magazines.
“Bobby stays abreast of the news. A lot of Nam vets are that way. Anyway, sit down and make yourself at home.”
Jade hesitated, then sat on a tattered southwestern blanket that was stretched across Bobby’s sofa. Sitting back, she tugged at her skirt and crossed her legs.
“I know this all comes as a shock, but your life has taken a turn that no one could have predicted.”
She sighed and sucked in her bottom lip that was beginning to tremble. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“No worries, Jade.” She nodded. I shifted to face her more directly. “This is what we know, and I don’t mean to sound harsh or blunt.”
“It’s okay,” she said quietly.
“What’s become clear is that your dad wasn’t killed in a hit-and-run. A Dr. Tarkanian, out of Glendale, signed his death certificate -- heart attack, supposedly in his own bed. Those fake cops might be in with Arnold Clipper, but that’s speculation. They could be working for somebody else, or they could be working alone.”
“Christ, what a mess.”
“Even though Arnold’s put pressure on Ron to set you up, it still doesn’t mean they’re connected to him.”
“Maybe they’ve hurt Richard.” Tears were beginning to fill her eyes.
“I dunno, but I doubt it, not with Arnold protecting him.”
Right there in Bobby Moore’s weird-ass living room, the dam broke and tears streamed down her face. I don’t like watching people cry; it kills me when Maleah occasionally wails, but it’s even worse when adults are doing the weeping. Maybe she’d been holding it all in for too long, or maybe the time had just come for release but she wept, at first quietly, and then with an intensity that scared me. Audrey thinks I’m cold-hearted
but actually I’m not. I put my arms around her and trying to comfort her, stroked her smooth, thick hair. How absurd it all is; wealth and power delude the world and, worse, deceive those that possess them.
Jade began to regain control. Reluctantly, I pulled myself away, went into the kitchen and again stared in disbelief at the $100,000 check Halladay had given me. I shook myself loose and placed it in my wallet. I took two Bud Lites out of the refrigerator, grabbed a glass for Jade, unscrewed the cap and took a long, welcome swallow. She was visibly embarrassed over her breakdown, and barely glanced at me as she filled her glass, and drank it like a veteran in four or five long swallows.
Bobby and Brad arrived at 7:30 carrying Chinese take-out. Five minutes later, Audrey who loves to shop and had made the most of this opportunity, arrived. I helped her carry several bags into the house.
I watched them eat fried rice and chicken l’orange. “We’ll go over everything first thing in the morning, and as of right now, everybody’s on payroll.”
“I don’t want your money,” said Bobby. “I want your wife.”
“I’ll take either,” added Brad.
I turned to Audrey. “Could you drive Brad and me back to Whittier?”
“Why not? I’m already about seven hours late.”
At 8:15, we trotted in as Cassady was putting the finishing touches on some salmon steaks. Maleah was playing on the computer and talking on the phone. I was damned glad to be home.
Immediately after dinner, Brad, who was exhausted, went down to the guest room. After Cassady and I put Maleah to bed, we went into our room. Cassady usually sleeps nude, but tonight she put on a lacy negligee with a scooped neckline. As soon as I got into bed, she grabbed me and pinned me down.
“How come you smell like perfume?”
“Don’t ask.”
She slapped me hard across the face and then made love to me. When I met Cassady, 22 years ago, I thought she was the hottest woman in the western world. She combined artistry and passion and we would make love ‘til we were exhausted. As the years passed, we discovered that we actually liked each other. Having met so young, we’ve each had flings over the years, but never anything serious enough to threaten our marriage. Since adopting Maleah nine years ago, I’ve been monogamous and I believe Cassady has too. We’ve never actually talked about it; it just seemed that once you’re a parent, you forego extracurricular pleasures for the sake of the family. When we were finished, Cassady lay her head on my chest and we talked. I described the case and Jade’s breakdown and the 100K retainer.
Cicero's Dead Page 6
