Shadows May Fall

by Corcoran, Mell

“I hope that’s a good thing.” Lou said with a bit of trepidation. “Please, call me Lou.”

  “It is a good thing.” Hass set the record straight. “A lot of us were worried about who would take Gilroy’s place. You can imagine how far he fell in popularity over the past two years. It was a shock to learn how far he veered off the road.”

  It felt odd to Lou to be talking about such things out in the open, even though they were the only people on the patio. Perhaps it was just her, not being familiar with her position yet.

  “He wasn’t on the job though, right?” Lou asked him. It never occurred to her to look into the guy since he was toast before she ever came into the picture.

  “Oh no!” Levine shuddered. “He was an Assistant District Attorney once upon a time if you can believe that!”

  “Seriously? Dillon was shocked.

  “Yep!” Hass scowled. “About eight years ago he was hired to consult on some cable show, and he got sucked into the Hollywood bullshit. Quit the D.A.’s office, got into some sort of entertainment firm thing and had been circling the drain ever since. He was a nightmare to deal with.”

  “Why didn’t anyone report him to the Aegis?” Lou wanted to know.

  “Honestly, most of us had no clue how bad it was.” Levine seemed a little embarrassed. “For the most part we’re all focused on our own districts and our day jobs. If nothing pop’s up in front of us, it’s pretty much an out of sight, out of mind thing, I am sorry to admit that. Probably not the greatest thing to say at a first meeting with our new Principate.”

  “No, I appreciate your candor.” She meant that. “It helps me with learning what I need to be aware of moving forward.” Lou noticed the intensely worried look that just flashed on Levine’s face. “Not about you!” She laughed. “Me, how I need to make sure to keep in touch with all of you and vice versa. Checks and balances, right?” The men looked at each other and nodded. “This is a learning process for me, as I’m sure you know. I want you to feel free to call me out on stuff, or check up on me. This only works if we have each others back.”

  It was a refreshing approach, by the look on their faces, that both Detectives appreciated. Dillon felt a rush of pride in Lou, seeing her tackling her new role with such humility and grace. “Well, now that’s out of the way, what can you share with us on Medina?” Dillon redirected the conversation as he noticed two women being seated a few tables away.

  “We have good news and bad news.” Arnie, as he preferred to be called, informed them. “After the scene was released, the owner cleaned the place out entirely. Oh and they serve breakfast here all day and the eggs Benedict are excellent!”

  Lou grinned. Maybe the food obsession was a cop thing. “Good to know, thanks.” Lou looked over the menu, and her stomach began to growl loudly.

  “The good news is we don’t have to deal with the owner to get in. He listed it for sale Monday, so the realtor gave me the code for the lock box.” Hass set his menu down.

  Dillon raised an eyebrow. “A lock box in Beverly Hills?”

  Hass chuckled. “It’s on the side door, and there is nothing in the house. It’s empty. Evidently the owner wants the property gone. We only talked to him on the phone since he’s in Dubai. He has a dozen investment properties in L.A.”

  “You talk to the M.E. On this?” Arnie asked.

  “Yes. Anything pop out at you that would explain the Scopolamine?” Dillon asked.

  Arnie shook his head. “Medina was into ecstasy and coke, maybe a little marijuana here and there. It was all about the feel good crap with him. The dude was a perv.”

  “Yeah, we anticipated that.” Lou acknowledged as she and Dillon exchanged knowing glances. “Let’s order before we give you all the salients on our other two cases. I don’t want to totally ruin your appetite.” The men chuckled.

  “We always get a couple crepes and split ‘em so leave room.” Arnie told them. “The chocolate banana are ridiculously good! You’re gonna love ‘em!”

  After a scan of the menu, then a brief debate over the combo versus the chicken and hotcakes, they placed their orders and got another round of coffee. While they waited for their food, Lou and Dillon went over the Griffen and Rawlings cases including their theory of who they were looking for. As with Rawlings, Hunny Trainer never appeared in the Medina investigation. There still was no missing person’s report filed on Trainer, and they had no real reason to believe she had gone missing, but it didn’t ring right with Lou. After they finished with the Medina scene, she and Dillon planned to head over to Trainer’s former residence before they headed to the dojo. It was a packed day and she was grateful for it. She hadn’t thought of Max hardly at all.

  Arnie was right. The chocolate banana crepes were ridiculously good, and both Lou and Dillon were so full that they wanted a nap.

  BHPD graciously picked up the lunch tab then they were off to the former Medina residence. It was only about ten or eleven blocks away from the restaurant, so Lou paid careful attention to the area as they drove. Heading west on 3rd Street wasn’t very impressive as Beverly Hills went. A gas station, dry cleaners, all very similar to anything you would see in Tarzana. They passed a dialysis clinic, packed parking lots, tons of foot traffic and a few packed in apartment buildings as they passed Robertson Boulevard. Dillon was not impressed with Beverly Hills thus far.

  “What’s the big deal about Beverly Hills?” He asked as they passed a homeless man changing on the sidewalk.

  “Technically, this is West Hollywood still.” Lou corrected him. “We’re not far from West Hollywood Station, where we were yesterday.”

  “Really?” He was surprised and looked at this navigation screen.

  “Yeah.” Lou confirmed. “Like two blocks south is the line and maybe five more west? South of Burton and west of Doheny is the way I keep track.”

  “Good to know.” Dillon noted the dozens of apartment buildings they were passing and the numerous ways in and out.

  “Lots of alleys.” Lou said, apparently thinking the same thing.

  As they came up to the Four Seasons Hotel on their left, the helpful navigation lady instructed Dillon he would be taking a right soon. When they hit South Doheny, he did as he was told. The area was still pretty nondescript and there weren’t any red light cams. After they had crossed Burton, Dillon noticed the Beverly Hills City Limit sign on the right, along with the no overnight parking sign. The homes were still not what he expected here. It was a slightly more upscale version of the Rawlings home but from what he knew, these houses had an extra zero tacked on to the price tag. Dillon followed Hass and Levine’s car as it made a right on Dayton, another right on Oakhurst then pulled over halfway up the block. These houses were more a mini version of what he had seen on television, but they were still very nice.

  Of course, the front of the house in question was completely obscured by large palms and banana trees. You couldn’t even see the front porch. There was a streetlight across the road and one house over, but Lou doubted it provided much illumination at this distance. That with the landscaping, no one would have seen anyone enter or leave the residence. Lou walked up the street a bit and surveyed things. As if reading her mind, Dillon walked up the driveway, keeping to the side and trying to stay under cover. Lou shrugged her arms as if to say she had no clue where he was.

  “We checked and double-checked, and no one saw anyone, not even Medina, coming or going.” Arnie told them as they waited for Hass to get the key from the lockbox. “The neighbors on this side are back east and the last time anyone could even remember seeing Medina was several weeks ago when he had some kind of party which our guys got called out to because of the music blasting after ten. I included the report with our files, but I talked to the officers that came out and they said it was pretty raunchy.”

  “Raunchy?” Lou asked, her definition of raunchy having significantly changed in the last day.

  Hass jogged up the
steps waving the key. “You talking about the party?” He asked his partner as he unlocked the door.

  “Yeah.” Arnie chuckled. “I’m trying to be delicate here, but they said it was pretty much an orgy, and that’s just what they could see from the front door.”

  “You said the place was cleaned recently?” Dillon asked, causing them all to laugh as they walked in.

  It was a beautifully done two story Mediterranean with creamy marble and dark hardwood floors that splashed up the swirling staircase. As they stepped in, it was starkly empty, not a stick of furniture, no window treatments, nothing. Hass went ahead and opened up the french doors to the back yard and waved them onward. The yard was a beautiful mixture of modern minimalist and old world Tuscan style. Off on the right was a long heavy wood pergola densely swagged with bougainvillea and ivy. The tightly planted boxwoods created a large privacy screen against the house to the north, so the thing as a whole created a complete canopy all the way to the gate that lead to the back alley. The back wall that separated the yard from the back street was a giant slab of gray concrete topped by a redwood lattice, woven with ivy for added privacy. There were a series of smaller, concrete rectangles jutting out of the main wall like steps, with waterfalls that ultimately fed into the square concrete jacuzzi. It was elevated and overlapped onto the pool that was almost flush with the grass. It was all very unfussy, ultra modern and took up more than three-quarters the width of the fifty-foot lot. If you looked carefully, there was significant discoloration. Whoever did the crime scene clean up just couldn’t quite get all the blood out. Concrete was quite porous and next to impossible to get stains out of though someone had tried very hard. It was convenient for the killer that the jacuzzi was tucked back in the far left corner, shrouded just as densely as the pergola on the right. Neighbors would never have seen anything.

  As Lou approached the jacuzzi, she checked her phone for a text from Caroline. She should have checked earlier, but she had been a little preoccupied.

  “Anything?” Dillon asked as he joined her to take a closer look at the spot where Marcus Medina’s head had been smashed off.

  Lou nodded and shoved her phone back in her pocket. “Positive for Scopolamine.”

  “Really?” Arnie asked from the edge of the pool. “That’s some nasty stuff.”

  “Apparently.” Lou was learning just how nasty it was. “So our femme fatal slips the Scopolamine in the wine somehow, maybe excuses herself to change or sends him out first with the wine.” She was thinking out loud as she walked the yard.

  “She could have blown it in his face, though.” Hass hypothesized. “Wouldn’t that have been the most expedient way?”

  “Would she want to risk inhaling it herself?” Arnie seemed to disagree with his partner.

  “Well since a swab of the inside of his nose was not an option, I guess we can’t really say for sure.” Dillon felt he needed to state the morbid obvious.

  “He was nude in the jacuzzi, right?” Lou asked.

  “Yeah.” Arnie confirmed but was not sure what that mattered.

  Lou nodded and started pacing. “Griffen was in a hotel robe, and Rawlings was in a terry robe as well.” Lou scrambled for her phone and dialed Caroline.

  “I just finished, Lou. Nothing to tell you that you don’t already know.” Her pal answered.

  “Hey, yeah, that’s not what I’m calling about.” Lou spoke quickly, making the men think that she was on to something. “Can you tell if Rawlings and Griffen had recently showered or bathed?” They all stared at her while they waited for her to get an answer.

  “Let me see.” Caroline looked over the trace analysis that had come back already. “Sodium Laureth Sulfate, Petrolatum, Acrylates Copolymer, Cocamide...”

  “Caroline!” Lou growled.

  “Okay!” Caroline muttered something under her breath then continued. “All the ingredients you’d find in a soap or body wash. These are higher than normal levels so one could conclude the victims showered recently, or they hadn’t done much activity since they showered.”

  “Right, that’s good enough for me, thanks.” Lou hung up before Caroline could say anything else. “She has them clean up first.” She told the men as she stuffed her phone back in her pocket

  “She’s a neat freak?” Arnie wasn’t sure of the relevance.

  “She more likely finds them dirty.” Dillon understood where Lou was going.

  “Where did all of Medina’s possessions go?” Lou asked Hass. “Storage locker. Why?” Arnie inquired.

  “Did you guys go over everything for DNA?” Lou knew it was impossible to test everything and considering the jacuzzi was where Medina died, it actually wasn’t necessary that they did so.

  “The usual.” Arnie checked his notes. “Bathrooms had multiple donors, same with the bedroom, sheets, master shower.”

  “Kitchen and out here had been scrubbed?” Dillon asked, knowing that was going to be Lou’s next question.

  “Completely.” Hass answered right away. “I specifically remembered noticing how clean the kitchen counters were. Single guys don’t usually concern themselves with polishing their granite to a spit shine.”

  “But a woman would. So I think it’s fair to say we are spot on with our assumption of our assailant being female.” Lou paced again. “She makes them clean up, in a way they are happy to, or they are ready for her that way to begin with.”

  “Working girl?” Arnie asked.

  “Maybe, but I think it’s a bit more than that.” Lou spun around and faced Hass. “What are the chances you could have some of your guys look through Medina’s things and look for any bondage or BDSM paraphernalia?”

  “I’ll send some guys now.” Hass started to dial. “It may take a while, though.”

  Lou looked at her watch and realized it was after four. She remembered they had to be at the dojo by six, and they still had to check out the whereabouts of Hunny Trainer. “That’s fine.” Lou finally responded to Hass. “Just let me know if and when your guys find anything.

  After another look around the place, Lou thanked the men for their assistance and told Dillon to pick her up on Burton. She went out the back gate and walked the alley. Heading south put her deeper into the neighborhood, so north was the obvious choice, and the smartest one. As she headed towards Burton, she checked the backs of the other houses and noted only two had motion lights and those were positioned to flash when someone entered the property, not walking through the alley. If their girl left in the middle of the night, she would have been cloaked in darkness all the way. When Lou reached Burton, she headed east, remembering there was no overnight parking allowed so their killer didn’t have her car parked around here or it would have been towed. As she crossed Oakhurst, she signaled to Dillon who was waiting at the corner in his SUV. She continued passed the next alley and approached Doheny. Reading the numbers on the bus stop, Lou pulled up the schedule for that line on her phone, it was a limited stop which meant it was highly unlikely their killer would rely on that bus to get her out if she couldn’t be exact in her timing. Caddy corner was the Four Seasons hotel. She waved for Dillon, hopped in the car and they swung around and headed there. Hotels have parking that’s traceable, especially high-end hotels like the Four Seasons. It was a long shot, but a shot worth taking.

  When Niko arrived in Rotterdam, it was on the chilly side, but then again it rarely broke eighty degrees in South Holland. The drive from the airport to the hotel was always beautiful with miles and miles of green pastures, tree-lined highway and the occasional farm dotting the landscape. Puffs of clouds speckled the early evening sky, the most threatening ones safely in the distance. By the time they made their approach to the city it was too late to stop at the International Criminal Court, so the driver kept going to the hotel. Tomorrow would be a packed day with the ICC first thing, then back to back meetings with agents at two of Max’s subsidiary companies. Spot checks were not unu
sual, and it gave perfect cover to dig into who had the most access to the ports. The evidence that they gathered tracing the origins of the Black Blood made Niko think of Rotterdam instantly. The shortest distance between two points, after all. St. Petersburg was a no-brainer as far as a pipeline was concerned, but he needed to wait until Max was answering his calls again to see if he wanted to look into that himself. Niko had little interaction with the Aegis in Russia or China and even less with their Dominors. Once again, he needed to wait for Max to find out what he wanted him to do.

  The port of Rotterdam ranks eleventh in the top twenty busiest ports in the world. It is the entrance to Northwest Europe and handles approximately four hundred, fifty million tons of cargo each year. The length of the port alone covers over twenty-four miles and employs an estimated eighteen thousand people. Finding where shipments were coming through was going to be tricky but it was going to be a hell of a lot easier than sifting through China, which had ten of the top twenty spots for largest and busiest ports in the world.

  For now, Niko’s evening would be far more enjoyable and relaxed. He had set up a meeting with an old friend and confidant who just happened to be a cigar aficionado like himself. The hotel where Niko was staying was home to one of his favorite cigar lounges which made it an obvious choice for an informal briefing.

  As the driver made the bend around the province House South Holland, traffic jammed. It wasn’t going to get any better given they were reduced to two lanes. Niko didn’t mind. The trees were thicker here, and the architecture had returned to a more Old World style. Boats meandered along the canals, and the light was turning a golden pink as the sun dipped lower into the horizon. He loved this place. When the roads narrowed and turned to the herringbone cobbles and the bicyclists sped by faster than the cars, he knew they were almost there. Finally, Niko could see the bright butter paint and red marquis with its gilded lettering that read Hotel Des Indes. It had undergone a makeover in 2006, but the hotel had been in business since 1881. Niko had been a guest once or twice before, when it was a city palace. There was something about it that resonated with him all these years, something that still made it feel like days that had long since passed. Even when he made trips to Amsterdam, he would stay here and make the forty-plus mile drive. It was just so worth it. As they pulled up to the entrance, Niko’s favorite porter stood dutifully at the ready wearing his traditional coat and top hat.