Faye Kellerman - Decker 04 - Day of Atonement

by Day of Atonement

'I'm just finishing up the paperwork,' Benderhoff said. 'Like I told you, victim was hit on Third and

  Temple, multiple stab wounds to the chest. He placed his own nine-one-one call at a pay phone. Held on long enough to do what he had to do. Cruiser was there forty-five seconds later. He was just about out.'

  'Was he assaulted in the phone booth?'

  'Nope,' Benderhoff said. 'We followed the blood. It led to a back alley about a block away. The victim must have crawled to the booth.'

  'They do emergency surgery on him?'

  'Yeah, but it wasn't a Ions one. Forty minutes or so, mostly muscle damage but he lost blood. He's in recovery, in stable condition. He managed to tell the patrol officers his name and phone number before he went under the knife. His wife's with him now. Needless to say, she's upset.'

  'He came out OK considering.'

  'Some people are lucky,' Benderhoff said. 'He can talk, but for the most part, he's out of it. Best as I could make out, he works downtown. He was walking to his car when a couple of guys jumped him. Now there was no cars around where all the blood was. But they could have dragged him out of the public lot into the back alley.'

  'Awful lot of work for the perps,' Decker said. 'Stoner'sabigguy.'

  'Yeah, something's not right,' Benderhoff said. 'His wife said he was supposed to be having a dinner meeting. But there are no real resta. ants around where his car was parked. Now, maybe he was dropped off. But it would have made more sense for him to take his car to where he was going. Wanna know what I think? Guy was having a little nookie, his girl dropped him off a couple blocks from the office so no one he'd know would see

  him. He got jumped on the way home. The uniforms told me he was reeking of booze.' 'He wasn't with anyone when he was attacked?' 'Nope. That fits in nicely with my dropoff theory.' Decker said, 'Doyou know if Stoner is gay?' 'Gay?' Benderhoff's eyes widened. 'No indication. Why? What do you got for me?'

  Decker showed him the pictures of Noam and Hersh, and, at length, explained the purpose of his visit. Benderhoff stared at the pictures as he listened, nodding at certain points. After Decker had finished, Benderhoff thought a moment, ran his fingers through his hair.

  'You know,' he said, 'this is a little out of my field. But there are a couple of local places where... you know, if you're Mr. Businessman-in-the-closet-with-everything-to-lose, you can go somewhere for a little fun. Very posh. Very discreet. Far as I know, there's been no trouble with the law. All of the members are the law-and-order types. But you might want to try Vice on that. They'd know more than I would.'

  'The clubs would all be closed at this hour, wouldn't they?'

  'I'm sure they would.'

  Decker said, 'I think the easiest thing is to show Stoner a bunch of the pictures. We'll age-match them and I'll throw mine in with the stooges.'

  'Might be difficult with Mrs. Stoner there.' Benderhoff let out a small laugh. 'I could use my charm. Smile at her with my baby blues and she'd follow me anywhere.'

  'When were you planning to talk to Stoner?' 'I don't know,' Benderhoff said. 'Around seven, maybe eight. Something like that.' He glanced at his

  watch. 'It's four-thirty now. Good Sam's in the neighborhood. We can grab a couple hours' sleep upstairs, gulp down some coffee, and give it a whirl.'

  Decker said that sounded good.

  Benderhoff paused, then said, 'This kid a relative of yours?'

  'No,' Decker answered without pausing. 'I'm doing a favor for my wife. She's friendly with the family.'

  'Must be some wife.'

  Decker pulled out a photo of Rina - a professional one she had taken right before they married. Decker had wanted something to put on his desk. And he wanted to see her with her hair flowing long and loose, knowing the tresses would be covered or braided after they married. At first, she hadn't wanted to do it - the time, the money, all the to-do with makeup and clothes. But he asked so little of her that she agreed without much of a fuss. All the proofs had turned out magnificently. The photographer had remarked that she could be a professional model and had wanted to put her portrait in the window. But Rina had asked him not to, clearly embarrassed by all the attention.

  Benderhoff stared at the wallet-sized picture for a long time. Then he said, 'Know what? If she was my wife, I'd do a favor for her, too.'

  Thomas Stoner's head lay on the pillow, as inert as marble. Tubes were in his nostrils, needles were in his arm. His hospital gown was open at the neck and curly gray hairs sprouted from his chest. His head hair was silver and thin, very damp with sweat. His eyes were sunken, his thick lips almost bloodless. Decker was on the right side of the bed, Benderhoff was on the left. They sat very

  close to the man, gave him a minute to adjust to their presence. At last, Stoner gave them the go-ahead by nodding.

  Benderhoff took out half a dozen photographs, including pictures of Noam and Hersh. 'I'm gonna show you some faces one by one, Mr. Stoner. Nod if you see someone familiar.'

  The first two snapshots produced no response. The third was a picture of Noam. That was also met with a blank stare. When Benderhoff showed Stoner Hersh's high school picture, the man's eyes widened several diameters.

  'That's him,' Stoner said.

  'You're sure?' Benderhoff said.

  'Positive,' Stoner whispered. 'Motherfucker.' He coughed from the exertion, deep grunts that almost blew out his nasal tubes. Then he quieted, lay very still.

  Benderhoff and Decker exchanged looks.

  Decker said, 'You said two men jumped you?'

  'Yes,' Stoner said.

  'You can nod if it's easier,' Decker said. 'OK, two men jumped you.' He pointed to Hersh's picture. 'One of them was this man?'

  Stoner nodded.'The other...masked.'

  Decker paused for a moment, addressed the comment to Benderhoff. 'Funny, one was masked, the other wasn't. Doesn't at all sound like a typical mugging.'

  Stoner's eyes widened again.

  'Mr. Stoner,' Decker said. 'These guys are going to mug someone else. You were very lucky. Their next victim might not fare as well. I need to know exactly what happened, so I can find out how these two operate. Do you know what I'm driving at?'

  Stoner's eyes closed.

  Decker said, 'We sent your wife out so we could all be honest.'

  Benderhoff said, 'There's no need for anything you say to be repeated outside this room.'

  Stoner didn't respond verbally, but tears rolled from his closed eyes.

  'Mr. Stoner?'Benderhoff said.

  'Go... on,' Stoner said. 'I know... you know. But my wife... married thirty-two years. She... can't find... out.'

  'I understand,' Benderhoff said.

  'Go ahead,' Stoner said.

  'I'll make this as quick as possible,' Decker said. 'The clubs you go to... they're very exclusive. How did this man get in?'

  'My guest,' Stoner whispered.

  'You knew him from before?' Benderhoff said.

  Stoner shook his head. 'He... was waiting... outside.'

  'You brought him in,' Decker said. 'He must have been dressed nicely.'

  Stoner nodded. 'So... young... virile. Told me he'd... he'd lost his ID card. He... was furious because... not letting him in. I believed... Looked the part. Spoke in a foreign accent... the right manners. I invited him... as my guest. I was... a fool. Should... know better. A weird smile.'

  'Weird smile?" Decker said. 'How?'

  'Off-kilter.' Stoner turned to Benderhoff. 'If my wife... she finds out...' He started to cough - pitiful, hacking sounds that caused him a lot of pain.

  Decker waited until he quieted, then said, 'So you invited him into the club. Had a couple of drinks.'

  Stonernodded. 'Afterward, hesuggested...wego... to his suite...at the Belle Maison.'

  'His suite?' Decker said.

  'Told me he was a German count. Heinrich Stremmer.' Stoner looked up.'I thought it was... bullshit. A hustler... lots of them... at the club. But he spoke... fluent German.'

  Decker's first t
hought was it might have been Yiddish. To the untrained ear, the languages sounded identical. Then again, Hersh could have known German, too.

  Stoner said,'His suite...too public. Then he suggested my office. I had told him...worked around here. He said...if someone saw us, I...could say he was...aclient.'

  Decker said, 'You were attacked along the way.'

  Stonernodded.

  'He set you up,' Decker said.

  Stoner said,'I... a fool. Drunk...'

  'He knew where you worked,' Benderhoff said.

  'Yes,' Stoner whispered. 'He must have.'

  'Which one stabbed you?' Benderhoff said. 'Or did both of them do it?'

  'Heinrich,' Stoner whispered. 'He stabbed... me. I was... 'Tears rolled down his face. 'So betrayed.'

  'What about the other one?' Benderhoff said.

  'Theother?' Stoner shook his head. 'Didn't stab me. He tried to shoot me...but there were...no bullets.'

  Decker thought: Everything Miriam had said was making sense. 'So you never saw the one that tried to shoot you.'

  Stoner shook his head.

  'Only this one,' Decker said, pointing to Hersh again. 'This is Heinrich. The one who stabbed you.'

  'Yes,' Stoner whispered.

  Benderhoff said, 'Did Heinrich say anything about himself? Where he lived?'

  'He said,' Stoner whispered, 'he said... he lived in Germany. He spoke German.'

  'And he was staying at the Belle Maison?' Benderhoff asked.

  Stoner nodded.

  'We'll check it out,' Benderhoff said,

  'They took your wallet,' Decker said.

  'Yes,' Stoner said.

  'Your wife can provide us with all your credit-card numbers?' Benderhoff said.

  'Yes.'

  'Your attackers may try to use them,' Decker said. He stood. 'They could be a valuable lead as to where they are.'

  Stoner nodded and closed his eyes again. Benderhoff knew he'd had enough. He stood and said, 'Thank you for your time, Mr. Stoner.'

  Stoner said, 'My secret... I have a wife... who I wouldn't hurt... my children as well.'

  Benderhoff told him they'd be discreet.

  Stretched out in the passenger's seat of the unmarked, Benderhoff slurped coffee from a Styrofoam cup and said, 'So what if it goes to the DA? Your little boy's gonna plea-bargain for state's witness against Heinrich, who did the stabbing. All the gay stuff is gonna come out.'

  'You're assuming there's enough evidence against my little boy to prosecute,' Decker said. He was driving south on Figueroa, heading back toward Central Substation.

  'Yeah,' Benderhoff said. 'Good point. State don't got no witnesses, no physical evidence, state don't got diddlysquat on your boy. Just the word of Count Heinrich and that's worth shit. So maybe we can keep the old guy's secret a secret, huh?'

  'I hope so,' Decker said. He finished his coffee, bunched the Styrofoam into a ball and threw it in the backseat.

  Benderhoff said, 'Know something? The coffee's pretty good.'

  'It should be at two fifty a throw,' Decker said.

  'No one ever said the Belle Maison was cheap,' Benderhoff said. 'They really should have comped us.'

  Decker said, 'At least no one can accuse us of taking graft.'

  Benderhoff laughed. 'Well, Count Heinrich was never a paying guest there. You know this dude better than I do. Where do you think he is?'

  Decker said, 'I think my boy called his aunt using a booth near the freeway interchanges. I'm going to check out locations. We could also try the local dives in this area.'

  Benderhoff said, 'I'll check out the downtown sewer holes. I know all the guys anyway.'

  'Sounds good,' Decker said.

  'Although if I were them, I-wouldn't stick around too close to my dirty work,' Benderhoff said.

  'Yep,' Decker said. 'They've probably split. I've got about another four, maybe five days until I officially come back to work. I'll keep looking. I find anything, I'll call you first.'

  'Likewise,' Benderhoff said. 'Nice working with you.'

  'Same,' Decker said. 'Let me ask you something.

  How'd you get a name like Felipe Benderhoff?'

  'A Peruvian mother and a German father,' Benderhoff said. 'Their marriage was shit from day one. My old man was twenty years older than my mother. If truth be told, I think he was an ex-Nazi. Anyway, my mother was hot-blooded, always going hysterical. My father had ice water in his veins. But something good did come out of it. My coloring. My baby blues and my thick black hair. Drives the women wild.'

  He paused, then said, 'I'm colored like your wife.'

  Decker said, 'She's fairer.'

  'Yeah, but I mean the hair and the eyes.'

  Decker said that was true.

  'Maybe I'm her long-lost brother,' Benderhoff quipped.

  'Not a chance,' Decker said.

  There were four public booths near the 10-East, none situated near fleabag hotels. But Decker did notice that one of the booths was fifty yards from an overpass. Beneath it was a sheltered spot used by the homeless. At eleven in the morning, most of the transients were up. Men with matted hair were stuffing their respective belongings into torn plastic bags. They were of indeterminate age - any one of them could have been from twenty to fifty. Next to the pack rats, a grizzled old man with a gray beard was sucking on a bottle of Thun-derbird. He was lying on his side, running his finger across moist dirt stubbled with weeds. Across from him, two other men were talking to themselves while eating a breakfast of dog food scooped out of cans with their fingers. They looked at Decker with fearful eyes, cradled their meager possessions as if they were babies.

  Decker lit a cigarette, not because he wanted a smoke but to kill the stench. He puffed out a few clouds, then pulled out a fin and the snapshots of Hersh and Noam. Everyone eagerly nodded, said yes they were here, then held out their hands. Worthless information.

  Decker flicked the bill between his fingers.

  'Where did they go?' he asked.

  •Ml

  Again, he got answers, but nothing that he believed to be true.

  Then the grizzled man with the Thunderbird spoke up. He pointed a finger at Decker and said, 'They were here.'

  His statement was followed by a drone of: 'They were here! They were here!' Then out came the empty palms. Decker pushed the palsied hands aside. He bent down next to the old man until they were face to face. The coot reeked of alcohol, as if he'd been preserved in the stuff. On top of that, his teeth were so rotten, Decker could smell putrefacation on his breath. He took a very deep drag on his cigarette.

  'What makes you so sure about it, old man?'

  ' 'Cause one of 'em gave me sompin',' the coot said.

  •What'd he give you?' Decker asked.

  The coot shook his head. 'Uh, uh, uh. You gonna take it from me, if I show you it.'

  Decker flashed the money in front of the old man's face. 'You show it to me, and if I like it, I'll buy it from you.'

  The old man scrunched his eyebrows. He ran his tongue against his hollow cheeks. Then he continued sucking on his wine.

  Decker showed him the pictures. 'Both of these guys were here last night?'

  The coot broke suction with the bottle. 'For a coupla hours. This one' - he banged his hand against Hersh's picture - 'he slept. But this one' - this time the hand went to Noam's picture - 'he got up and came back later... and he wasn't 'apposed to do that. 'Cause the big one said... "Don't go away." But the little one... he wennaway anyhow.'

  Decker said, 'Know where the little one went?'

  The old man shook his head. 'Just... away. But he came back. And he saw me lookin' at 'im. And he knew he wasn't 'apposed to go away. So he says to me... "You can have this, but only if you don't say nothin'.' So I don't say nothin'.'

  'What did he give you?' Decker asked.

  'You wanna buy it?'

  'Maybe,' Decker said. 'I've got to see it first, old man.'

  'Well...' The coot reached under his hip and pulled ou
t a ski mask. 'Itsa good one.' He examined it and offered it to Decker. 'No holes.'

  Decker stuffed the five inside the old man's pocket and took the mask.

  Rina startled when she heard the car pull up into the driveway. She'd been reclining on the living-room sofa, reading, and without realizing it, had fallen asleep. The drapes were open, the afternoon sun shining through the picture window. Rina rubbed her eyes, glanced around the room. A warm, friendly place even though it was uniformly masculine: roughhewn beam ceiling, fir-planked floor topped by a Navajo rug, buckskin chairs framing the fireplace, driftwood coffee table in front of the sofa. All of the furniture made extra-large to accommodate her husband. She heard the front door open. Ginger started to bark.