by David Chill
"Why thank you, such a gentleman," she smiled. "Hey, if you can bring another brochure next time, that would be fantastic."
I told her I'd see what I could do. I walked out of the Seaside and into the parking lot. I had some ideas, not all fully formed, but I was getting convinced this little tidbit was going to lead me down the slanted path toward cracking this case. I felt an excitement and a determination.
I opened the Highlander and climbed inside, but just when I did, the passenger door swung open quickly and someone joined me. His massive forearms bulged out of his short sleeve shirt. He used the exact same maneuver I had pulled this morning on Noreen Giles. Maybe lightening does strike twice. But even though I had threatened her, I had mostly wanted to teach Noreen Giles a lesson, one that would likely come with a prison term. The person pointing a pistol at me didn't look like he had any lesson plan on his mind. Isaac Vale looked very much like he wanted to kill me. Reaching over, he yanked my .38 from its holster.
"Drive," he ordered. "Now."
Chapter 25
We headed up Lincoln Boulevard for a few minutes and then I was directed to turn onto the westbound 10 Freeway. Within a minute we were cruising through the curvy McClure Tunnel, then past the California Incline and heading north on Pacific Coast Highway. The blue ocean sparkled to my left. The sun was out and it was growing warm. It was turning into a glorious California day.
I drove up PCH at a moderate speed and stayed in the right lane. A number of impatient drivers went around us and gave dirty looks. A few car lengths behind, however, was another dark vehicle, albeit not the same one that was following me earlier into Boyle Heights. I slowed, but they did not make any motion to pass me. I tried to see who it was, but didn't want to alert Isaac Vale and give him any reason for concern. It did occur to me that Vale might have a partner in the other car, and that thought was unsettling, to say the least. I could often handle one person, even someone who was big and who was armed. Handling two was a much taller task.
"You know, I'm going to get a ticket if you don't put on your seat belt," I finally said.
"You got bigger things to worry about, wise guy," he answered.
"If you wanted an appointment, you could have just called."
"Uh-huh. I tried following you today. Learned a few things. That was a nifty move, carjacking a woman by waiting until her doors unlocked. I figured I'd borrow a page from a pro."
"I didn't carjack anyone,” I said.
"Sure," Vale laughed. "What do you call entering someone's vehicle and pointing a gun at them?"
"Law enforcement."
Vale laughed again. "Oh you're a funny guy. I'm gonna hate not having you around. And just what law were you enforcing?"
"Law of the street," I answered. "When someone steals, the quickest course of action is to steal the merchandise back."
"An eye for an eye?"
"Not exactly."
"How come you didn't just call the cops?" he asked.
"They take too long," I said. "I can mete out justice more efficiently."
"Uh-huh," he agreed. "Me too."
I took a deep breath and drove slower. The blue Pacific never looked more beautiful than it did right now. I was certainly feeling very alive, in the moment, drinking in every aspect of the world around me. I wondered if this was the last time I would ever see this picturesque vista. I thought of the active life I had lived and the people I had helped. I thought of my vow to never take a case just because of the money. I thought of Gail Pepper's beautiful smile and how I might never see it again. I thought of the possibility of not even having the chance to say goodbye to her. And I thought about the ongoing pain she would feel if she never heard from me again. Or if she never even found out what happened to me.
"So that was you following me this morning," I said. "In that little car."
"It wasn't that little. A BMW 320i. It's about the cheapest thing we have on the lot."
"Sorry you had to go lowbrow."
"Well," he said, "I thought if I was in something fancy, it would draw attention. Guess you made me anyhow. Driving around the block twice."
"But you didn't follow me after that."
"My cover was blown. I needed to get to you another way. I figured you might swing by the dealership, but I certainly couldn't grab you there. Too many people know you there. And everyone knows me."
"How'd you know I'd be at the Seaside?" I asked, knowing it would be one of two answers, Warren or Gretchen. My money was on Warren.
"I made an arrangement to get you there. Cost me two hundred but it was worth it. That little desk twerp. Couldn't keep a secret about anything. Blabbed more about who was screwing who than TMZ. When he mentioned a private eye who was sniffing around last week, I figured I'd hit pay dirt. I'll go back to the hotel later and take care of him. I have to make sure no trail leads back to me."
I nodded cautiously. "Sounds like you've thought this out thoroughly."
"I have."
"So why are you doing this then?" I pressed him. "A lot of people have had an unhappy marriage and can't trust their spouse to be faithful. They solve that problem with a divorce."
Isaac Vale looked at me as if I were stark raving mad. "A divorce?!" he asked incredulously. "Divorce just frees my wife up to play around some more. I'm still the one who got cockled."
"Cockled?" I glanced at him.
"Uh-huh. When another man screws your wife. Or in this case other men. As in plural."
I blew out a breath of disgust. It was better than laughing in his face. "I think you mean cuckolded."
"Whatever you want to call it. That's not something I'm going to live with. That's not something any real man is going to live with. Let some fucker do your wife and then see him strut around like a peacock. Uh-uh. Not me."
We had passed Chautauqua and Sunset Boulevards, both of which led into Pacific Palisades. We were now approaching Topanga Canyon. Vale told me to make a right. I did so and picked up a little speed. Green grass and rolling hills framed both sides of the narrow highway. Glancing quickly into the side view mirror, I saw our tail make a right turn as well. I slowed down a little, in part to navigate some of the hairpin turns this stretch of road presented. But I also didn't want to get too far ahead of my tail. I didn't know who they were, but they might be my only road to salvation. I had a funny feeling they weren't working with Vale. But I knew for sure they weren't working for me.
Topanga Canyon was another area that was uniquely L.A. Starting at the beach, it twisted its way up through the Santa Monica Mountains, and driving through it made you feel as if you were hundreds of miles away from any urban area. It provided a getaway for people to hike and camp, and leave the worries and pressures of the big city behind them. But Topanga has had something of a foreboding history. A century ago it was a place where outlaws were known to have gravitated, often to hide out from the law. It was a difficult stretch to navigate, with many small dirt roads branching off from the main drag. For a while during the 1960s, even the Manson family called it home. But by then it had started to become more of a bohemian enclave, and managed to stay that way over the decades, despite steadily escalating real estate prices.
We drove through a tiny area which seemed to serve as a central meeting place, but didn't hold much more than a general store, post office and a couple of funky restaurants. A few people sold arts and crafts from folding tables on the side of the road. Topanga Canyon was only about 20 minutes from bustling Santa Monica, but it felt like it was a world apart. The people who moved here usually did so because they wanted a semi-rural environment. This was an area where everything from jackrabbits and snakes to coyotes and even mountain lions roamed free. It was apparently also a place where criminals still drifted.
"Left turn," he ordered.
"Are you going to tell me what we're doing here?" I asked, making the turn and slowing down considerably as the asphalt road narrowed and became less well paved. I also slowed to keep pace with our tail. But
the car that had seemingly been following us was nowhere to be found. Maybe it was just around the bend. Or two bends.
Vale laughed. "Uh-huh. But you can't figure it out? Aren't you a little scared?"
"Yeah," I said. "I'm shaking in my shoes. And I'm starting to get a bad feeling from it."
"Can't say as I blame you."
"What's going on here? I didn't have anything to do with Christy. I never laid a hand on her."
"No, but others did. And I took care of 'em."
I thought back to my last visit to the dealership. "Christy was wearing a lot of makeup yesterday. I thought she was trying to hide the fact that she had been crying. But maybe it was to also hide some bruises."
Isaac gave a small, evil smile. "You're good at figuring things out. I sensed that about you. And you were getting too close for comfort. I got the feeling you'd unravel this thing sooner or later. So I knew I had to deal with you too."
"I appreciate your faith in me," I said sardonically.
"You're smart, " he said. "But I'm smarter."
"I don't doubt that," I said, knowing enough to flatter a hairy ape who had a gun pointed at my rib cage. "Maybe you could give another smart guy a break and let me go."
"Ha! Like I said before. You're funny. But I tried to warn you, didn't I?"
"Did you?"
"Tell me you don't remember what happened to your Pathfinder."
I thought back to the other day, when my brakes failed going down the California Incline. It all made sense now. Isaac was the service manager at Bay City, and he had the tools and the arm strength to pop a hole in my brake lining. The slow leak would take all night to drain, but when I drove out in the morning, the brake fluid would be gone.
"So you were the one who tampered with my vehicle."
"You got that right. Pretty easy job really. You just need to know where to cut."
"And your message was back off the case."
"It took you a while to get that, huh? I was a little disappointed when you kept going."
"And dumping Oscar Romeo's body in the dumpster next to my building. That was another message you were sending me?"
"A stronger one perhaps. But yes. Oscar was messing with my lady and like I said, I'm not going to get cock ... what was that word?"
"Cuckolded," I said evenly, doing my best to keep from rolling my eyes.
"Yeah that one. Wasn't going to let that one slide."
"So you killed Oscar out of revenge and then dumped his body near my building ... as a warning to me."
"There you go. I knew you'd get it. Again, it just seems to take you a while. I thought you were smarter than that."
I ignored the crack. Only a lunatic would be able to decipher Isaac Vale's cryptic messages. "And the Hornes? Why did you kill both of them?"
Isaac Vale's eyes darkened and his face scrunched. He drew his lips in and took a couple of breaths. The mere name seemed to get his motor running in a way nothing else had. I pushed a little more.
"Gilbert Horne," I continued. "He was your boss at the dealership, right? And he paid for your wedding too, if I recall."
Isaac's breathing started coming in spurts now and his hands started trembling. I thought of whether there was an opportunity to grab the gun from him at the right moment. I steadied the wheel with my left hand, but when I measured the distance between us, I knew I'd have to lunge and that was a split second longer than I could give him. And considering his deranged mental state, Isaac Vale was not a man to trifle with. I also looked down at those massive forearms and wondered if I could even wrestle the gun away from him.
"That prick," he said. "That double-talking snake. Horne was a goddamned son of a bitch."
"So you didn't care for him, I take it."
"Didn't care for him?! He was fucking my wife the whole time she was going out with me! He was married and he couldn't afford a divorce, so he decided to just stay on in his marriage and screw everything around him."
"So you fired a shot at his house to warn him?" I asked.
"Warn him, my ass!" he yelled. "I was shooting to kill, it was just too dark out. That gun his partner had was all show. A Glock's an impressive firearm, but the accuracy is shit from a distance."
"You used Cliff Roper's gun."
"Yeah. That felt like just desserts. Getting whacked with your partner's gun. I certainly wasn't going to use mine. After I finished him off, I left the Glock in the bushes so the police would find it. Figured they would pin it on Roper once it got traced. If I left it inside the house, they might have thought it was a murder-suicide. Boy, the police are easy to manipulate. Bunch of coffee-sipping government sponges. They really are a pack of goldbricks."
One thought puzzled me. "How'd you get a hold of Roper's gun in the first place?"
"Horne took it out of Roper's safe. He told Christy he thought someone was after him and he needed it for self-protection. The cheap bastard wouldn't even buy his own weapon. Christy saw it and convinced Horne to give it to her. She was concerned he was going to hurt himself. Can you imagine? Pricks like Horne don't commit suicide."
"So he gave Christy the gun. And then ... "
"And then I took it from Christy. For safekeeping, I told her. But I had a plan to use it on Horne. When things didn't go right the first time, that first night, I had to go back there. Back to that house on Lookout Mountain."
"But you killed both Horne and his wife. Why the wife?"
Vale slumped a little in his seat. "Collateral damage," he said. "Couldn't be helped. Horne was alone when I got there. I told him I needed to talk to him about some stuff at the dealership. He was such a two-faced prick. Made me a drink, talked to me like I was an old pal even though he was screwing my wife behind my back. Then just as I was about to plug him, April walks in. She sees me, she sees the gun. I had to finish her. No turning back at that point. When you have a head of steam, you just gotta keep rolling. He who hesitates, and all that."
I looked out at the rolling green hills in the distance, and the ancient trees and jagged shrubbery we were passing along the side of the narrow road. So that was how multiple murders got committed. Someone has a fling with your wife, and murder becomes the obvious solution. Someone else has a fling, someone else gets murdered. Someone sees your face, they get murdered too. Be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and your number is up as well. Isaac had been like a boiler about to explode. He had an enormous amount of pent-up rage and he had no ability to allow some of that steam to get out. Finally he just blew up. If only he had an outlet. If only he had a safety valve.
"And Christy didn't suspect anything?" I asked incredulously. "Two of her lovers killed within a week. She had to have known this wasn't a coincidence."
Vale shook his head. "You don't understand, do you? I caught her and that football player together at the hotel on Saturday morning. Followed 'em. They were supposed to be test driving a car, turns out he was test driving her."
"You didn't use a gun on him."
"Hell no. The police are dopes, so I figured I'd break the pattern. Used a tire iron instead. Popped him over the head a few times when he wasn't looking."
"Did Christy see you do it?"
Vale smiled. "No. But I took care of her later. Her days of cheating on me are over. Her days of cheating on anyone are over. For good."
I stared at him and then a question popped into my head. "So if you're planning on killing me also," I said slowly, "then just who are you going to lead the police to? They're not going to believe I did all this."
"No, they won't. And you're the one who gave me the idea of who to pin this on."
"Who's that," I asked, shaking my head.
"Art Luttinger. He's my next stop."
I took a breath and didn't say anything. The murder tally had now grown to four and was rising quickly. I didn't bother to ask what he had done with Christy's body, maybe he had another obtuse message he was planning to send. Isaac was one sick guy. I needed to figure a way out of this situa
tion and none jumped out at me. Isaac Vale had size, strength, and two handguns, one of which had been pointed right at me for half an hour. Overcoming him inside of the car did not look possible.
At some point we would stop. But by then, the distance between us was sure to grow and my chances of disarming him were sure to diminish. I had no access to anyone outside of this vehicle, and we were now in such a remote part of Topanga Canyon, that it was unlikely there was another person within miles. But as my hands tightened around the steering wheel, I suddenly realized I did have one weapon in my arsenal. A weapon that was far bigger and even more powerful than anything Isaac had at his disposal. And the trick would be to dispense it quickly and suddenly.
I saw that the road ahead began to straighten and ease downhill. I pressed down slightly on the accelerator and tried to build some speed. The Highlander responded and began to surge. Isaac didn't realize it at first. He was lost in thought, most likely marveling at his own genius, his ability to get away with murdering four people, with a fifth about to get notched on his belt. But as the Highlander built up speed, he began to take notice. The speedometer was now passing 40 and rising quickly.
"Hey, what's your hurry? This is a country road. You're going to die today anyway."
I ignored him and pressed the accelerator harder. The vehicle responded and surged forward quickly.
"Hey! I said slow down! I mean it!" he yelled, waving the gun near my head.
And with that, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and jerked it hard to the left. The Highlander swerved sharply off the road and Vale fell back against the door. He wasn't wearing a seat belt, but I was. The passenger side of the vehicle did not have air bags but the driver's side did. I floored the accelerator enough so that he was unable to react well. And when we smashed suddenly and violently into an oak tree that must have been over one hundred years old, it was the Highlander that took the brunt of the damage, not the tree. Because I had buckled my seat belt and forced the driver-side air bag to engage, I was spared from the brutal consequences that ravaged Isaac Vale.
