No Place to Die (Sam Leroy Book 3)

by Philip Cox

  ‘Who did you get to speak to?’ Leroy asked. ‘Was the owner there?’

  ‘Guy called Dudley? Yes, he was there. We talked to him.’

  ‘How did he react when you told him Mets had been murdered?’

  ‘You know, Detective, he didn’t seem concerned. Said something like, “he wasn’t a good worker, easily replaced.”’

  ‘All heart.’

  ‘Did he seem surprised?’

  ‘Not sure. Maybe a tad, I guess.’

  ‘What about the rest of the staff?’

  ‘We told them, and asked when they had seen him last. Those who could, said they hadn’t seen him for a few days.’

  ‘How do you mean those who could?’

  A lot of the guys there are European, Detective. Didn’t understand English. One of the waiters had to translate. A couple of guys in the kitchen seemed to get upset at the news.’

  ‘Okay. Anything else?’

  ‘No, that’s pretty much it. I dropped a report into your station, left it on your desk. Just a list of who we saw and spoke to, and what they told us. Like I’ve just told you.’

  Meanwhile, Lieutenant Perez was occupying himself with blending in with the surroundings. He had several work calls to make, and so spent a lot of time on his phone, as were many of the other suits around. His police badge gained him access into the naturalization ceremony before he lunched alone, and also into the American Society of Cataract and Refractive Surgery convention.

  At just after 4pm, he left the Center and took a cab back to the Stocker. Not having spotted anybody remotely like either of the two girls, Leroy and Quinn followed him back, heading directly for the parking garage.

  Perez was aware that Hightower met up with one of the girls at the hotel swimming pool, so headed up there at 5:30. Being wired up, he was unable to actually swim, but got himself a Pepsi and sat on one of the loungers with a newspaper. He remained there until 6:45, having made no contact.

  As he sat in the restaurant for dinner, he continually looked around. The restaurant was half full, all with men and woman obviously in town on business. He was sure he recognised two men from the opticians’ convention.

  After dinner, he headed into the bar. Ordering another Pepsi, he found himself a table and sat with his notepad and tablet, pretending to be working.

  The bar was not particularly busy, just a steady procession of men and women arriving, having a drink or two, and leaving. Leaving with the person with whom they came in.

  10:15, and only three other tables were occupied, all by men and one woman on laptops. Two men sat alone at the bar: one was chatting with the bartender. There was also a girl sitting alone at the bar. She had just arrived, coming in while Perez was in the men’s room.

  The man who had been talking with the bartender then took a call. As he spoke on his phone, he got up off his stool and began to pace up and down as he spoke. His pacing eventually took him out of the bar.

  The girl then moved to sit next to the other man at the bar. She spoke to him briefly: Perez could see him say something to her, then the man’s gaze returned to his phone. The girl sat up and spoke to the bartender. Then she was on her phone. As she made her call, the man got up and left.

  Now the girl was pacing up and down a little as she made her call. Continuing with her call, she walked past the table where Perez was sitting and into the restroom. She was still talking as she passed him, but was talking too quietly for him to hear what she was saying.

  Perez pressed the button on his signet ring. ‘Stand by, guys,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Ten four,’ came Leroy’s voice in his ear.

  A few moments later she came out of the restroom. The man from earlier had returned to the bar, having finished his call. Perez was scribbling nonsense on his notepad, but out of the corner of his eye he could see the girl pause ten feet away from him. He glanced quickly at her.

  She was Caucasian, with dark shoulder-length hair. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress, the whiteness of its material accentuating her tanned face, arms and long legs. She was fumbling in the little white purse she was carrying.

  After a few moments’ fumbling, she stepped over to Perez.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ she said, ‘but do you have a light? I think I’ve left mine in my room.’

  Perez reached into his pocket. ‘No problem,’ he said, holding it out so she could light her cigarette. It was long and thin: one of those menthol brands, he thought.

  She took a long drag and blew the smoke out. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I needed that.’ She looked around. ‘Though I don’t think I’m allowed to smoke in here.’

  ‘I don’t think you are,’ Perez smiled up at her.

  She shook her head. There was an empty glass on the next table and she stubbed out the cigarette in it.

  ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I know I can’t smoke in here, but you gave me a light all the same. Let me get you a drink.’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ Perez said, hoping she would not take a refusal.

  ‘No, I insist. What are you drinking?’

  He laughed. ‘All right. Jim Beam and Pepsi.’

  ‘Cool, she said, and walked over to the bar. After a few minutes, she returned with his drink and a white wine for herself. ‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked. ‘I hate drinking alone.’

  Perez pulled out a chair. ‘Be my guest.’ She sat down. ‘You in town on business?’ he asked. ‘LACC?’

  She shook her head. ‘Well, part business, part vacation. I’m here with a girlfriend.’ She laughed. ‘A girl friend, not a girlfriend, I mean. She’s here for an audition.’

  ‘Oh, not America’s Got Talent?’ he asked, recalling the poster at the Convention Center.

  The girl laughed. ‘No, nothing like that. For a TV pilot. She’s auditioning somewhere off Santa Monica Boulevard.’

  ‘Still? It’s way past ten.’

  She paused a beat. ‘I think there’s a lot of people being auditioned.’

  ‘And she’s joining you here when she’s done?’

  She nodded. ‘U-huh.’

  Perez sat upright, nodding and smiling. He held out his hand. ‘My name’s Roman, by the way.’

  She shook his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Roman. My name’s Paula.’ She looked around and moved closer to Perez. ‘My friends call me Pinky.’

  ‘Pinky?’ asked Perez, casually pressing his ring. ‘What an unusual name.’

  Chapter 43

  ‘That’s it,’ said Leroy. ‘Let’s go. He’s made contact.’ He and Quinn leapt out of the car and ran toward the stairs.

  *****

  Meanwhile, up in the bar, Perez was engaged in deep conversation with Paula, aka Pinky.

  ‘That is an unusual name,’ he had said.

  Moving slightly closer, she ran her index finger up and down his hand. He could smell her perfume: while not knowing the brand, he recognised it as something his wife kept, to use for special occasions.

  ‘Would you like to know why they call me Pinky?’ she purred. He sipped his drink and nodded.

  Drawing a circle on his hand with her fingertip, she licked her lips. ‘Maybe you’ll find out later.’

  He nodded eagerly. ‘Will your friend be joining you here?’

  Pinky ran one hand down the side of her body. ‘She will. Soon.’ She nodded down at his whisky and cola. ‘You’ve not finished your drink yet.’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’ Perez downed the drink he had bought himself - the straight Pepsi - then took a mouthful of the one she had bought. He could taste the Jim Beam: maybe there was another taste in there somewhere?

  *****

  Leroy and Quinn had arrived in the lobby. There was no need to rush in guns blazing: the lieutenant would not be in any danger at this time. The lobby was quite busy. A group of tourists were in the process of checking in. Duty Manager Katherine Huth was clearly working tonight. She looked up from her screen as Leroy walked across the lobby. They made brief eye contact, then one of the touri
sts asked her something, so she turned her head away. Two small groups of people were gathered around the indoor plants in the centre: as Leroy and Quinn walked past them, both groups moved en masse towards one of the restaurants.

  They paused in the entrance to the bar, easily able to see the lieutenant and the girl sitting at a table. She was sitting with her back to them; he casually made eye contact. They walked up to the table. As they approached, Perez reached into his pocket and took out his badge.

  ‘Peek-a-boo, Pinky,’ he said.

  Her eyes wide open in astonishment, she stared up at Leroy and Quinn, who were by now standing over her. ‘You’re five-oh?’ she mouthed.

  ‘You got it in one,’ Leroy replied as he and Quinn each pulled up a chair. ‘Now, where’s your friend?’

  ‘What friend?’

  ‘Don’t bullshit me, honey. Your girlfriend.’

  Pinky looked away. ‘She’s in the other bar.’

  ‘Doing what? Looking for another john?’

  ‘We’re not hookers.’

  ‘No, of course you’re not. You packing?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Show me your bag,’ said Perez.

  Pinky bit her lip and tossed the little black bag over to him. He looked inside. ‘Shall we pat you down in here?’

  ‘You can kiss my ass,’ she muttered and reached down under her skirt, glaring at Leroy as he watched. Even though her legs were bare, she was wearing a black garter, holding a small handgun. Leroy reached down and took it.

  ‘Glock 26?’ he asked, discretely checking the weapon. It was about the size of Pinky’s hand, metallic pink and titanium. There was an ornate monogram on the barrel. She shrugged as Leroy emptied the chamber and barrel and slipped it into his coat pocket.

  ‘You stay here with me,’ Perez said, ‘while they go get your friend. No tricks. Or shall we cuff you here and now?’

  Pinky said nothing; just shook her head and stared at the floor.

  ‘What’s your friend wearing?’ Leroy asked as he got up.

  ‘Green dress,’ came the reply. She remained staring at the floor.

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Roxy.’

  ‘Back soon. Don’t go away.’ Leroy and Quinn headed over to the other bar. Standing in the doorway, they could see Roxy sitting at the bar, talking to a man.

  Quinn looked around. ‘That has to be her. Black girl, green dress. Nobody else matching that here.’

  ‘The dude she’s talking to: is he Asian?’

  ‘No, Caucasian.’

  ‘Come on, then.’

  The walked up to the girl. The man she was talking to saw them approach and looked up. She turned round.

  ‘Your name Roxy?’ Leroy asked. He held out his badge.

  ‘I thought I could smell bacon,’ she spat. The man turned around and slid a couple of feet away from her.

  ‘Watch yourself, honey,’ said Leroy, ‘or I’ll book you for having an offensive mouth as well as extortion, accessory to murder et cetera, et cetera.’

  ‘I didn’t kill no one,’ she protested.

  Ignoring her, Leroy asked, ‘You carrying, the same as your friend?’ as he pointed down to her thigh. Silently, she reached down and pulled out exactly the same handgun as Pinky. He emptied it and put it with the cartridges into his other pocket. ‘Let’s go meet Pinky,’ he said as he took her by the arm.

  ‘She’s nothing to do with me,’ the man spluttered. ‘She just started talking to me.’

  ‘Then you had a lucky escape,’ said Leroy. ‘My partner here will just take some details; I expect another officer will be along in due course to get a statement.’

  While Quinn checked the man’s ID and got confirmation that he was staying at the hotel, Leroy led Roxy to the other bar. ‘And what do your friends call you?’ he asked.

  ‘Perky, ‘she snapped.

  She tried to pull away as he laughed, only for him to tighten his grip.

  Back in the other bar, he told her to sit next to Pinky.

  ‘Pinky, this is Perky; Perky, this is Pinky,’ Leroy said as he sat down himself. ‘Now, where’s your friend? Your Chinese friend?’

  Both said nothing.

  Leroy sighed. ‘So - you were planning on getting my lieutenant here high, then taking him up to his room when - let me guess: your friend arrived to take some pictures. Am I right?’

  Perky just glared at the two men, then at Pinky as her friend replied, ‘That’s right.’ Then she looked up at Leroy. ‘Anyway, whataya talking about, accessory to murder? What murder?’

  Perez gave her a wide smile. ‘Or maybe murder one. You remember William Kirk?’

  The expression on Pinky’s face changed as it sunk in. ‘He’s dead?’

  Perky looked at the floor. ‘I know. Chong told me,’ she muttered.

  ‘I didn’t know that!’ Pinky exclaimed. ‘I swear!’

  ‘What’s his name, and where is he now?’ Leroy asked Pinky.

  ‘He calls himself Chong Lee. He’s over the street in his car, waiting to hear from us.’

  ‘Over the street?’

  ‘The lot out front of the train depot.’

  ‘What’s the plan, then?’ asked Leroy as Quinn joined them.

  Pinky looked over at Perky who reluctantly replied. ‘Once the guy’s totally passed out, we call him, and he comes to the room.’

  ‘Then what?’ Perez asked.

  Perky looked at him as if to say do I have to spell it out? ‘We pose for the pictures, then leave. Next morning, he goes back to the room, shows the scumbag the pictures, then puts the deal together.’

  ‘Puts the deal together? You mean blackmail him?’

  Perky shrugged, petulantly. ‘Whatever.’

  Perez said, ‘Let’s all go up to the room, get things moving.’

  The officers stood, Leroy and Quinn taking Pinky and Perky by the arm. As she stood, Perky’s arm shot out and she knocked Perez’s drink on the floor. The glass smashed and the Jim Beam and cola began to soak into the carpet.

  ‘Nice try,’ Perez said, crouching down. He picked up the still intact bottom of the glass, a tiny amount of the brownish liquid swilling around in between the jagged edges.

  ‘We only need a tiny sample,’ Quinn explained as Perez produced a clear plastic evidence bag and slipped the remains of the glass inside.

  The bartender watched as Perez led Leroy and Pinky and Quinn and Perky out of the bar and into the lobby. Leroy indicated over to him about the broken glass on the floor.

  As the five of them walked over to the elevators Leroy gave Katherine Huth one more glance: she seemed to still be checking in guests.

  ‘Nice view,’ Perez said cheerily as the elevator headed up to the ninth floor.

  Once inside 922, Leroy told them to sit on the bed. ‘Don’t try anything; otherwise we’ll restrain you now.’

  To Perky’s annoyance, Pinky repeated that she had nothing to do with Kirk being killed.

  ‘Save that for later,’ Leroy told her. ‘Now: who calls him?’

  ‘I do,’ Perky said.

  ‘Call or text?’

  ‘Usually text.’

  ‘Text him now, then. Remember: exactly as he’s expecting. No tricks; no attempts to warn him. Otherwise… Well, you know what otherwise. Show me the message before you send it.’

  Fixing him with an angry stare, Roxy/Perky took out her phone. She quickly typed a message, then held the phone out to Leroy. He took it and read the message, then tabbed down the list of her sent messages. She tried to protest but he put out his hand to silence her. Eventually he found a previous message to Lee, the exact wording as the message she had just typed. ‘Good girl,’ he said and pressed Send. She snatched the phone back.

  ‘How long?’ Perez asked.

  ‘Five minutes. Maybe ten.’

  ‘Ray, you go wait down the corridor,’ Leroy said. ‘The lieutenant and I’ll wait here.’

  As Quinn left, Perez stepped into the bathroom. He called for back-up, th
en remained in the bathroom, waiting. Leroy pulled out his own Glock and sat on the chair, four feet away from the edge of the bed where the girls were perched.

  The girls flinched as he cocked his weapon.

  ‘Not long to wait,’ he said.

  Chapter 44

  ‘So, you two are hookers, right?’

  Perky looked at Leroy with contempt, then returned her gaze to the floor.

  It was Pinky who replied. ‘We’re actresses.’

  From the confines of the bathroom, Perez laughed.

  ‘Porn actresses?’ suggested Leroy.

  ‘Adult performers.’

  ‘That why you don’t mind humping dirty old scumbags?’

  Now it was Perky who replied. ‘We never humped anyone. You can’t hump a limp dick.’

  ‘Honey, that’s what happens when you fill a guy full of R2. So you just staged the pictures?’

  ‘Whatever,’ Perky said, dismissively.

  ‘And what about Chong Lee? He comes up here to shoot it all? What’s his story, anyway? He Chinese?’

  Pinky slowly nodded her head. ‘I think he said he was from Singapore. That makes him Chinese, I guess.’

  ‘No,’ said Leroy. ‘They’re different.’

  ‘Whatever,’ repeated Perky.

  Pinky was just about to answer when there were three taps on the door. Both girls looked at each other nervously.

  Leroy stood up. ‘Go answer the door, the same as you did before. And remember, no tricks, no warnings. Capisce?’

  Nodding once, Perky got up and slowly walked over to the door. Leroy moved so he was out of sight from the doorway. Perky checked the spyhole and slowly opened the door.

  Leroy heard a man’s voice, slightly accented. ‘Man, this guy was fast going under.’

  As Chong Lee stepped into the room, Leroy stepped forward covering him. Perez did the same. ‘Freeze. LAPD,’ Leroy called out.

  Panicked, Lee stepped back reaching inside his coat.

  ‘Freeze!’ Leroy repeated. ‘Last warning.’

  Lee took his hand away. He was almost backed out into the hotel corridor, but Quinn was now behind him, weapon poised. Quinn shoved Lee back into the room and shut the door.