Decker couldn’t hide his astonishment. He was silent for a long time. Then he said, “Didn’t know you were that religious.”
“I’m not but old habits are hard to break.” Luke looked at the mirror. “How you all doing over there?”
“Luke—”
“It was given to me when I…when Bram, Paul, and I were confirmed as teenagers. We all got the same present—a Walkman and a gold cross engraved with the name Sparks on the back. No initial, mind you, just Sparks. Our crosses are interchangeable. My parents weren’t big on personalization.”
Decker was silent.
“Anyway,” Luke continued, “mine has had a loose clasp for years. Never got around to fixing it. Maybe I secretly wanted to lose it. Not in a pile of dead bodies, but God works in mysterious ways.”
“I’m supposed to believe this?”
Luke said, “This morning, while I was taking a shower, thinking about what I had to do, I noticed my neck was bare. I looked around my apartment, couldn’t find it. I knew what must have happened. It came off at Decameron’s place. Then I knew why you arrested Bram.”
He leaned over the tabletop.
“If Bram wears anything over his shirt, it’s a Roman Catholic crucifix—a big silver thing with Jesus on it. But he also wears his boyhood confirmation cross inside his shirt. You booked him, you stripped him of his personal belongings. Go back and check your bags, Lieutenant. You’ll find his cross there. Would it make sense for Bram to be wearing two identical crosses? Man, even he’s not that fanatical.”
Luke grew impatient.
“Look, my brother didn’t murder Decameron. He wasn’t even anywhere near the house. He was with my mom in the morning, at his church in the afternoon.”
Decker was quiet.
“Yes, I know there were time gaps. Maybe he sneaked into Decameron’s house between Reggie’s phone call to me and before he visited my mother. That means he had to have been there around seven-thirty in the morning.”
“So?”
“Decameron had another guy there, both of them dressed in business suits. Who the hell does business at seven-thirty in the morning? No one. Because they were murdered later on. Make sense?”
Decker didn’t respond. His head was buzzing.
“I’ll tell you what doesn’t make sense,” Luke said. “If Bram had anything to do with the murder, you’d think he’d leave porno around with his name on it? Sort of like a giveaway, don’t you think?”
A setup. If so, why wouldn’t Bram talk? Decker stared at the priest’s twin, trying to buy time to collect his thoughts. He said, “Leaving pornography in plain view makes about as much sense as Bram using his real name for the subscription.”
Luke didn’t talk for a moment. “No, that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“I never saw the wrappers. So I don’t know if you’re shitting me or what.”
“You have the magazines?”
“We have magazines.”
“But not the wrappers.”
“No.”
“He threw the wrappers away. Why didn’t he just throw the magazines away?”
“Why didn’t he?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he was pressured for time. He was on his way to see some kid in a hospital. Or maybe he didn’t feel comfortable tossing the shit in his apartment Dumpster. Maybe he thought someone might see him. The magazines were addressed to a post office box.”
“Do you remember the number?”
“No. Course you could get it from my brother.”
“He isn’t talking. Can you get it for us?”
“Me?” Luke laughed bitterly. “No, if he’s not talking to you, he wouldn’t talk to me.” He paused. “I can’t in my worldly thoughts begin to fathom why Bram would use his real name. Even if he had them delivered to an anonymous post office box.”
Decker said, “Maybe he got a thrill out of being bad. Or maybe he was about to come out.”
“That doesn’t sound like Bram. He’s not the bad boy type. And he’s very discreet…or so I thought.” Luke shrugged. “Bram’s always been a mystery to all of us.”
“Why hasn’t Bram told us about you being there?”
“Why do you think? He’s protecting me.”
“He thinks you murdered Decameron?”
“Who the hell knows what he thinks? When Bram decides not to talk, he doesn’t talk. Look, I was there. But I didn’t kill anyone. You want me to make a more complete detailed statement, I’ll be happy to comply. Just spring my brother. I’m tired of him being my fall guy.”
“You were willing to pin it on him yesterday. You stood by while we arrested him.”
“I was in shock, I don’t do well under pressure.” He lowered his head. “And I was mad.”
“Mad?”
Luke sighed. “I always knew Bram wasn’t exactly girl crazy. As a matter of fact, the guy never had a girlfriend after Dana…my wife. He used to date my wife. They broke up in high school and I never thought about her. We remet at our five-year high school reunion. She thought I was Bram. Bram didn’t show. Anyway, we talked and one thing led to another.”
“How does Bram feel about you marrying his ex-girl?”
“He never stated an opinion on it. Truthfully, I think he feels I was stupid for marrying her.”
“Maybe he’s jealous.”
“Nah, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Dana. Maybe that’s why I knew that he was probably that way.”
“You mean gay?”
“Yes. Okay, if you’re gay, okay. But be private about it, for God’s sake. Especially if you’re a priest! Yesterday, after seeing that shit, I thought to myself…why should I fuck myself up over his perversions. Especially if he was going to be so careless about leaving it around.”
“So why are you here?”
Luke buried his head in his hands, then looked at Decker. “Because, as corny as it sounds, I love my brother. I would never hurt him…not intentionally…not anymore…”
He looked up, spoke to the ceiling.
“A long time ago, Bram and I had a falling-out. My fault. I don’t think he suffered much, but I sure as hell did. I missed him. Missed…talking to him. People talk to Bram. Because he truly listens.”
He made a swipe at his eyes.
“Are you going to spring him or not?”
“First, I’ll have to evaluate what you’ve told me. Then I’m going to need a formal statement from you. Someone else will have to take it. Agreed?”
“Fair enough.”
“You’re going to be detained for a while. Anyone you want to call?”
“No one.”
“A lawyer?”
“Nope.”
“You may want to call your family. Let them know what’s going on.”
“They’ve been calling here left and right. They’re furious at you.”
“No doubt.”
“I’ll call Paul. Get them off your back if you want.”
“Up to you.”
“I’ll do it.” Luke said. “I owe you something for listening to me. By the way, I know why you took yourself off the case.”
Decker said nothing.
Luke said, “Ten years ago, my parents threw us boys…the triplets…a twenty-fifth birthday party. Tons of people. I hated every minute of it. Actually, I think Bram and Paul hated it, too. We went along with it for my parents’ sake…actually for my mother’s. She loves playing hostess…showing off her cooking. Anyway…like I said, there were lots of people there.”
He paused, regarded Decker with arched eyebrows.
“Lots of people. But your wife’s face is a hard one to forget.”
Decker was silent.
Luke said, “I saw her picture on your desk. Recognized her right away. Her husband had been Bram’s friend. I guess you knew that.”
Decker remained quiet.
“Her late husband’s loss was your gain—”
“You get a charge out of pissing me off?”
“It’s a free coun
try.” Luke’s smile turned into a grin. “Better behave, Lieutenant. There are video cameras on you.”
Without speaking, Decker walked out of the room.
25
“You see!” Decker yelled at Marge as he paced. “That’s precisely why I shouldn’t have talked to him! Personal involvement is personal involvement no matter how seemingly small—”
“I think we should go to the jail to check out Bram’s belongings.”
“Don’t interrupt me!” Decker fired out. “I’m not done ranting!”
“Sorry.”
Decker paced a few more moments. Then he stopped, took a deep breath in, and let it out. “Fine. Let’s check out Bram’s evidence bags.”
“Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right! What a prick! Like I gave the guy a brain tumor to get to Rina—”
“I think you’re making too much out of this.”
“I don’t care what you think!”
Marge said nothing, calmly sitting with her hands in her lap. Today she wore a caramel-colored pants suit over a bone top. Quite elegant except for the Nikes on her feet. Serviceability took precedence over fashion.
Decker said, “I’m having a difficult time with this.”
“It’s hard to stand on the sidelines.”
“No, I don’t miss getting my hands dirty. It’s the personal aspect. You know at first, I thought they might have been involved.”
“Who’s they?”
“Rina and…him…Bram.”
Marge shot him a quizzical look. “Oh, you mean romantically involved. I thought you were talking about involved in the murder.” She laughed. “I’m thinking, ‘What the heck does Rina have to do with any of this?’”
Decker wagged his finger. “See, you’re thinking business. I’m thinking about my wife. Not good.” He paused. “Tell you the truth, I was relieved to find out he’s gay. Not that I would have cared if he and Rina—”
“Not much,” Marge whispered under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
The room fell still.
“Okay. I might have cared a little.” Decker frowned. “Or maybe the thought that he isn’t still preys in the back of my mind. Because I don’t really buy any of this.”
“Buy what?”
“That Bram’s gay. Believe me, I saw the way he looked at my wife.”
“When?”
“At the memorial service.”
Marge said, “You’re telling me that Bram—a priest, at his father’s memorial service, in full view of everyone, including you—leered at your wife?”
Decker sighed, rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Okay. So maybe it was my imagination.”
“I think so.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that the whole thing stinks.”
“What in particular?”
“Bram hiding the bloody clothes with the fuck mags in his apartment. Even if he was protecting someone, why would he keep incriminating material in his possession?”
“Like Luke said, maybe he didn’t have time to find a safe dumping ground.” Marge thought a moment. “Or if he’d been hiding magazines for someone, maybe Bram figured that the someone would want them back.”
“But Luke said the wrappers had his name on them. I can’t see Bram subscribing to that stuff for someone else.”
Marge shrugged. “So Luke’s lying. Maybe the wrappers had Luke’s name on them and Bram’s protecting Luke just like Luke stated.”
No one spoke for a moment.
“We should set up a polygraph for both of them,” Marge stated.
“Bram isn’t talking.”
“So we’ll go for Luke. One out of two ain’t bad.”
“Fine. We can do it after we check out Bram’s belongings.”
Marge stood. “Is Bram still at Van Nuys or did they move him downtown?”
“No, he’s at Van Nuys.”
“You want to come with me?” Marge smiled. “For old times’ sake?”
Decker smiled back. “Sure.”
“Are we going to spring him?”
“Well, if we find the cross in Bram’s belongings, and Luke swears he was at Decameron’s house, it’s pointless to keep Bram locked up.”
“What about the key with the ID tag of his apartment address?”
Decker thought a moment. “It was definitely the key to his apartment. But it wasn’t Bram’s personal key. Because I locked the door to his apartment using Bram’s own key ring.”
“So whose key is it?”
Decker waited a beat. “If he and Decameron were lovers, Bram could have given Reggie a key to his apartment.”
“And it just happened to be in Reggie’s pocket?”
Decker shrugged. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. First, let’s check out Bram’s belongings. If Luke’s to be believed, we should find an identical confirmation cross. You want to drive, Margie?”
“Sure.”
Decker pulled his wallet from his desk drawer. “How’re things working out with Oliver?”
“We have our rough moments.” Marge picked up her purse. “But he’s got positive attributes. He’s a clear thinker.”
“Good to hear.” Decker hesitated. “Sorry I jumped on you a few moments ago.”
Marge stood. “I understood your dilemma, Pete. But I felt Luke wouldn’t have opened up to me like he did to you. For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”
“The guy’s a jerk.”
Marge said, “Yeah, it was awful what he said to you.”
Decker shook his head. “I should have just shrugged it off without comment.”
“You’re human.”
Decker opened the door to his office. “Baby, ain’t that the truth.”
Rina placed the strap of her purse over her shoulder and locked the car, her heart beating hard in her chest. Because she had no idea what she was doing…what she would even say if given the chance to see him. As fate would have it, the situation took care of itself. She saw him bolting down the back stairs of the Van Nuys Substation. He started jogging through the parking lot away from the police complex. She had to sprint to catch up with him.
As soon as he saw her, Bram’s expression turned hard and furious. “Where’s your car?”
“Right over there.” Gasping, Rina pointed to her Volvo.
He grabbed her arm, pushed her forward.
“What are you doing?” Rina shook his arm off. “What’s the matter with—”
“Give me your keys—”
“What—”
“Don’t argue with me. Just do it!”
Rina flipped him the keys. She had to run to keep up with him. When he reached the Volvo, Bram opened the driver’s door, got in, and opened the passenger’s door from the inside. As soon as Rina was seated, Bram peeled rubber before she had the door fully closed.
“What is it?” Rina asked as she shut the door. “What happened?”
Instead of answering, Bram depressed the gas pedal. The car flew forward, the tires squealing as he turned onto Van Nuys.
Rina took a sharp intake of air. “You’re going to get a ticket—”
“So, you’ll fix it for me—”
“Bram, slow down!” she said. “You’re going to have an accident!”
Instead, he accelerated to overdrive, had to swerve to avoid hitting a stopped car.
“Stop it!” Rina screamed.
The car continued racing, Bram shooting one yellow light after another. The fourth traffic light was completely red as the Volvo entered the intersection. Bram depressed the accelerator to the max, narrowly missing side impact by a eighteen-wheeler semi. The blare of the truck’s horn ricocheted in Rina’s ears.
Rina pounded his shoulder. “Stop it! Stop it!”
Bram braked suddenly, pitching them both backward. Breathing hard, he brought the speedometer down to normal city limits.
Rina covered her face, cried softly, a sharp pain s
tabbing her body with each intake of breath. Recovering quickly, she immediately prayed her thanks to God and wiped away tears. She held her rib cage as she spoke. “You could have gotten both of us killed. Have you gone crazy?”
Bram whispered, “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
Rina said nothing. Signaling, he turned right, hooking onto the 405 North. Within minutes, the Volvo was going a smooth and safe fifty-five.
Rina finally managed to breathe without pain, her armpits damp with sweat. Some of her hair had fallen out of her scarf. She tucked it back in. Quietly, she asked, “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer, didn’t acknowledge her question.
She became quiet as well, too nervous to talk. Nothing to do except wait him out. As soon as he got off at Devonshire and headed west instead of east, she knew where he was headed. He wasn’t taking her home. He was driving toward McCoy Park.
Years since Rina had been there. It hadn’t changed at all. A time warp of yesteryear when land was still an available commodity. A velvety green lawn hugging the foothills, dotted with several picnic benches. In the distance were the outdoor tennis courts. The sky was gray, the weather was cool, and the nets were empty. Since it was a school day and the park didn’t have a playground, there weren’t any children around. She and Bram owned the place.
He parked the Volvo, walked away from the car without a word. If she had had the keys, she would have driven home. Instead, she had no choice but to follow.
He turned to her, his face wan, his voice a shadow. “I am so sorry, Rina. I don’t know what…forgive me.”
She didn’t answer.
He ran his hand over his chin, surprised to find it roughened with stubble. “Are you all right?”
“I’m alive. It’s a good start.” She approached him tentatively. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not.” His eyes met hers. “What on God’s green earth were you thinking, showing up like that? The LAPD doesn’t have enough problems? You can’t do things like that, Rina. If you get dragged into this mess, you take your husband down at the same time.”
“I just wanted to talk…to help if I could—”
“You can’t.” He moved away from her, leaned against a giant budding sycamore and looked upward. “Go home, Rina. Just…go home.”
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