Ready to Die (Sam Leroy Book 5)

by Philip Cox

  ‘That can’t be the kid,’ said Leroy. ‘Unless he knows a short cut that we don’t.’ The vehicle was a black Humvee, tinted windows. ‘I don’t recall seeing that up at the house.’

  ‘I’ll check,’ said Quinn. He walked over to the Humvee, and tapped on one of the tinted windows, then opened the door. He had a brief conversation with the occupant, shut the door, and walked back to Leroy. At the same time, an open topped convertible pulled in: Lane Farrow was driving. Lane parked next to Leroy’s Taurus. As Quinn got back to the Taurus, the Humvee pulled away, back onto the highway, its brakes squealing and generating a cloud of dust.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Leroy asked.

  Quinn laughed.

  ‘A couple making out,’ he said. ‘I think I got them at the wrong moment.’

  ‘Coitus interruptus,’ Leroy said. He turned to Lane. ‘You want to show us where you found the dog?’

  ‘It was this way,’ said Lane as he led them off the overlook and into the canyon.

  As they made their way through the bushes and rocks, Leroy asked, ‘What were you doing here yesterday? Your father said you were here with some friends.’

  ‘There were four of us. We were just, you know.’

  ‘Making out?’ Leroy asked. ‘A popular spot for that,’ he added to Quinn.

  ‘Well,’ stammered Lane. ‘Kind of.’

  Leroy said, ‘You know there have been sightings of mountain lions?’

  Lane froze.

  ‘No. Where?’

  ‘If I were you and your friends, I’d find a safer place.’

  ‘I will,’ Lane replied quietly.

  It took them about ten minutes to reach the spot. The first thing they noticed was the smell, then the sound of the flies.

  The remains were partially covered by undergrowth, but it was unmistakeably the body of a dog, a Doberman. It looked the same as the other one. Its head and shoulders were intact, although with serious trauma around the throat. Its hind quarters were also intact, but there was a gaping hole where the chest and stomach should have been. Leroy looked around and picked up a loose branch. He use the stick to part the undergrowth. Inside the cavity, it was clear that skin, flesh and internal organs had been ripped out. The blood had dried, matted and blackened. Leroy, Quinn and Lane stepped back, to avoid the flies.

  ‘Cougar?’ Quinn asked Leroy.

  Leroy nodded. He stared around, looking for landmarks, then took a dozen or so photographs on his cell phone.

  ‘Has to be. We know the spot now; let’s take Lane back to his car.’

  ‘It’s all right; I know the way back.’

  ‘All the same, three are safer than one.’

  Once they had gotten back to the cars, Leroy thanked Lane for his help and reminded him to avoid this area.

  ‘You saw what happened to the dog, which would have been able to defend itself.’

  Lane nodded and drove off.

  As they watched him turn the bend out of view, Quinn asked, ‘What do we do about the remains? You going to tell Mrs Wheat?’

  ‘We’ll have to tell her. It’ll be up to her what she does, what she wants to do. They were her husband’s dogs.’ He paused. ‘I’ve had an idea. We need to go back.’

  As they walked back to the remains, Quinn said, ‘It has to be a cougar. I read up about them over the weekend, about their hunting patterns. First of all, cougars and mountain lions are different.’

  ‘No kidding? What’s the difference?’

  ‘Mainly the colouring.’

  ‘So what are we dealing with here?’

  ‘I have no idea. Probably a cougar.’

  ‘Probably?’

  ‘I just mention it in passing. Whatever it was, I reckon it killed the dog, dragged it to a secluded spot, like those bushes, then kind of hid it from other predators so it can come back every now and then to feast.’

  ‘So you’re saying it could come back anytime?’

  ‘Yeah, but they’re normally shy and nocturnal. And there are two of us. And we’re both armed.’

  They had reached the remains. Leroy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of latex gloves and an evidence bag from another.

  ‘But does the cougar know we’re armed?’ he asked as he gloved up. He took a deep breath, then crouched by the dog’s head. He opened the dog’s mouth and looked up at Quinn, who was clearly puzzled. Leroy broke off three of the dogs teeth and slipped them into the evidence bag. He stood up, retched, and stepped away, swatting away a cloud of flies.

  ‘What’s that for?’ Quinn asked. As they walked back to the car, Leroy explained.

  ‘I noticed before there was blood on the teeth. I’m working on the theory that when Wheat was attacked, the two dogs would have tried to defend him. Dobermans aren’t known for their passive nature, are they? One dog was shot right in front of the car. I’m guessing the other dog - that one back there - thought, “Fuck this,” and ran. Ran into the canyon.’

  ‘Where it got attacked by a cougar.’

  ‘It looks that way, but supposing when it attacked Wheat’s killer, or killers, it drew blood? Took a bite out of the killer’s arm, or leg, before it fled? That blood on here could be the lion’s blood, if they fought; it could even be its own blood. But, supposing it’s the killer’s blood?’

  ‘DNA?’

  ‘It’s an outside chance. The blood’s dried, it’s been exposed to the elements for several days, coming into contact with whatever came its way, so any DNA present could well have degraded; in fact, probably has.’

  ‘But it’s worth a shot.’

  ‘It is. It’s not like we’re swimming in clues or leads, or anything. We’ll take this up to the lab, and see if they can do anything with it.’

  They got back into the Taurus. Leroy reversed, turned, and pulled out onto Mulholland, heading east. As they left, they failed to notice the greyish tan face watching them through the bushes. The face watched as the Taurus rounded the corner, waited a few minutes until it was quiet, then a few more just to be sure. Then the mountain lion turned, and silently trotted back into the canyon. She would find a warm safe place to sleep for a few hours until dusk, then begin to hunt again.

  She would not return to the dog: it had been tampered with.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Leroy drove as they headed to the Hertzberg-Davis Forensic Science Center on Paseo Rancho Castilla. On the way there, Quinn called Mrs Wheat.

  ‘Can you hold for a second?’ he asked after they had spoken.

  He put the call on hold and said to Leroy, ‘She wants to bury the dog with the other one.’

  ‘And she realises the body won’t be intact?’

  ‘You heard what I told her. How can she get the remains, though? If it was my dog I wouldn’t want to go up there with a body bag.’

  ‘No.’ Leroy thought for a moment. ‘Tell her I can get someone in Sanitation to collect the remains. They can transport them to a pet cemetery. Surely she’s not going to bury them in her back yard. She’s not going to want to see the remains, surely?’

  ‘Will Sanitation do that? It’s hardly the standard 10-91.’

  ‘I doubt they’ll do it normally, but I know someone in Sanitation who owes me. I’ll reach out to him later, get him to give her a call. I don’t know how much it will cost, but somehow I don’t think money is a problem for her.’

  Quinn went back to Mrs Wheat.

  ‘She was happy with that,’ he said, after ending the call.

  ‘She won’t be so happy when she finds out she’s on our suspect list.’

  ‘When do you plan for us to go see her?

  ‘Not yet. I want to get these teeth dropped off first. I’m hoping that by then Perez has been able to clear us to speak to Shue and Ozawu, over at Central. Then we can figure out a game plan for the first Mrs Wheat. Do some background checks on her first.’

  ME Russell Hobson was involved in an autopsy when Leroy and Quinn arrived. Leroy wanted to wait to speak to his colleagu
e and friend personally, so they sat in an anteroom. Quinn sat checking messages on his phone; Leroy had two or three calls to make, all concerning his house move.

  ‘Have you arranged your move?’ Quinn asked.

  ‘I have. Nine days. I’ve arranged some personal time for the move – the day before, the day, and the day after.’

  ‘You moving your stuff yourself?’

  ‘No way. The real estate agent gave me the number of a removals company.’

  ‘If you need any assistance with that, Sam, just say.’

  ‘Thanks for the offer. I believe I’ve covered all my bases; but sure, I’ll say if I need anything else.’

  At that moment, Hobson appeared. He had just taken off his scrubs, and was smoothing down his hair.

  ‘Hey, guys. What brings you up here?’

  Leroy took out the evidence bag containing the teeth, and explained to Hobson what he was looking for.

  ‘You have to be joking!’ exclaimed Hobson, holding the bag up to the light and examining the teeth.

  ‘Is it possible?’ asked Leroy.

  ‘Well, in theory it’s possible. How old is this blood?’

  ‘A few days.’

  ‘And it’s been outside?’

  ‘It has.’

  Quinn spoke up.

  ‘Inside the dog’s mouth.’

  Leroy looked down at his partner.

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘But the dog’s mouth was closed?’

  ‘Kind of,’ admitted Leroy.

  Hobson shrugged his shoulders and made a who knows gesture.

  ‘Okay,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll see what I can do. No promises, no guarantees.’

  ‘I get that, Russ. Just do your best.’

  ‘As I always do.’

  ‘As you always do, Russ.’

  ‘Leave it with me, then.’ Hobson took the evidence bag.

  ‘And if you do find human DNA, then I’d like to see if we can find a match,’ added Leroy.

  ‘Yes, yes; I get the picture.’

  ‘What timescale are we looking at?’

  Hobson sighed.

  ‘I knew that was coming,’ he said. ‘Forty-eight hours, minimum.’

  Leroy grimaced.

  ‘That long?’

  ‘We’re busy up here, Sam.’

  ‘Okay, okay. By Thursday, then?’

  Hobson nodded.

  ‘Yes, Thursday. Not tomorrow. Thursday. By five Thursday.’

  ‘Good man, Russ. I appreciate that.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Now, what’s this I hear about you moving house? Is it true, or is it just gossip?’

  ‘What have you heard?’

  ‘That you’re buying a house down the street from your apartment. Is that right?’

  ‘Not exactly down the street. It’s in the Historic Canal District.’

  ‘I know that area. It’s very nice. When are you going to invite Talia and me round?’

  ‘And Holly and me?’ Quinn called out from the side of the room.

  ‘One day,’ said Leroy. ‘Let me move in first.’

  ‘Having a place right on the canals might impress the ladies,’ Hobson said. ‘You’ve been single far too long.’

  ‘Jesus, don’t you start. I’ve had my mother busting my chops about that all weekend.’

  ‘She been out here?’

  ‘No, I spent the Holiday there. Flew back yesterday.’

  ‘Sweet. How is your mom?’

  ‘She’s doing good. Anyway, love to talk, but I have work to do. So do you,’ he added nodding towards the evidence bag.

  ‘I’ll call you,’ Hobson said.

  ‘By Thursday evening,’ Leroy added.

  ‘By Thursday evening. Now get out of here, you two, so I can get on with some work.’

  Leroy and Quinn said their goodbyes and walked back down to the parking lot.

  ‘Anything from the lieutenant yet?’ Quinn asked.

  Leroy checked his phone.

  ‘Nothing. I’ll call him.’ He tossed Quinn the keys. ‘You drive. I’ll call him while we’re on our way.’

  ‘On our way where?’ Quinn asked as they got into the Taurus.

  ‘Head for downtown. That way, we’re on the scene once word comes through. I also want to take a look around where he was found.’

  ‘Angels Flight?’

  ‘Yeah. Not on the railroad itself; he wasn’t found there. He was found on those steps that go parallel with the tracks.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait until we’ve had the go-ahead from Central?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Leroy, sardonically.

  ‘But we’re not?’

  ‘It’ll save time. And we might get to hear from them before we get over there.’

  ‘Could we go to the market while we’re there?’ asked Quinn. ‘Holly asked me to get something on the way home.’

  ‘Once we’re done on the steps, sure. We’ll pick up some food there. I’ve not been to Eggslut for ages.’

  ‘Downtown it is, then,’ said Quinn, as they headed down Paseo Rancho Castilla for the freeway.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  As Quinn drove, Leroy called Lieutenant Perez.

  ‘Was just about to call you, Sam. I just got off the phone from Lieutenant Holbrook over at Central. She’s given the go-ahead for you to talk to the two detectives on the case.’

  ‘Great. Thanks, Lieutenant.’

  ‘But Sam: just talk to them. They’re keeping the case, of course, but she’s going to tell them to cooperate with you, give you what information you think you need. If it turns out that the two investigations are connected, then the four of you will need to work together; but we’ll cross that particular bridge when we get to it.’

  ‘That works for me, Lieutenant.’

  ‘The detectives working the case are Shue and Ozawu. I’m going to text Shue’s number over to you; he’s the lead on this one. Then you can reach out to him.’

  ‘Roger that. Thanks, Lieutenant.’

  As Leroy ended the call, his phone bleeped. It was Perez’s message with Detective Shue’s number. Leroy called immediately.

  ‘Shue here. Is that Leroy?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘You were fast. I’ve only just gotten off the horn from my L-T. She’s says you’re interested in the Wu murder.’

  ‘Only that Wu had a bearing on the case we’re working on, and his murder might be relevant to us. And we might be able to help you. I’m just looking for a rundown on it. My partner and I are headed downtown now, if you’re -’

  ‘We’re not downtown. We’re on Third and Fairfax this morning.’

  ‘Can meet up with you there.’

  ‘How soon can you get here?’

  ‘Third and Fairfax? Can get there in thirty.’

  ‘Meet you here. We’re around Gate Seven. Say midday?’

  ‘You got it.’ Leroy hung up and turned to Quinn. ‘Ray, we need to divert.’

  ‘I heard. I’ll stay on here till downtown then get on the 110 to Third. Small world – Holly was over there at the weekend. At the market, I mean, while I was decorating. God knows what she bought there, but…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She must have enjoyed herself there she was in a strange mood after she got back. She wanted it three times in twenty-four hours. Three times, man. I was pooped.’

  ‘Ray, that’s too much information at the best of times. Way too much.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  When they arrived, Quinn backed the Taurus into a space almost on the corner of Third and Fairfax, across from the Starbucks and the southern clock tower.

  ‘Not quite twelve,’ said Leroy. ‘I’ll go get coffee. You look out for them.’

  He walked across the parking lot to the coffee shop. As he waited at the barista bar, he heard a voice.

  ‘Leroy?’

  He turned to see, also waiting at the bar, a man and a woman. The man was wearing jeans, a black hoodie and brown tee underneath; the woman was smarter – black p
ants and a white shirt. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail. Leroy walked over to them.

  ‘Shue and Ozawu?’ he asked.

  ‘Harvey Shue,’ the man replied. ‘And Brooke Ozawu.’

  ‘Sam Leroy.’

  They showed badges and shook hands.

  ‘You on your own?’ Shue asked.

  ‘No, my partner’s in the car. I’ll get him in a sec.’

  Shue’s and Ozawu’s coffees arrived first.

  ‘There are free tables outside,’ Ozawu said.

  ‘I’ll catch you out there, then,’ replied Leroy.

  His order arrived in a few minutes; as he was waiting he called Quinn, who was walking over to the table as Leroy arrived with the coffees. When Quinn arrived, they repeated the introductions.

  Ozawu looked as Caucasian as Leroy and Quinn, who hesitated for a second as she gave her name.

  ‘My husband’s from Tokyo,’ she explained, holding up the finger with her wedding band.

  ‘Sorry,’ Quinn said, sheepishly.

  ‘Don’t worry. I get that a lot.’

  Detective Shue took a large mouthful of latte.

  ‘So,’ he said. ‘Chuck Wu. What do you need to know?’

  ‘Let’s start with what happened.’

  ‘He was found two nights ago at the top of the Angels Flight steps in a pool of blood.’

  ‘What was the time of death?’

  ‘The call was put in ten seventeen. A couple of kids. They wanted to ride down to Hill Street, but the railway was closed.’

  ‘It closes at ten pm,’ Ozawu explained. ‘They’d just missed the last ride.’

  Leroy nodded slowly.

  ‘And cause of death?’

  ‘His throat was cut.’ Shue ran his index finger across his own throat as he spoke.

  ‘Any idea what with?’

  ‘Still waiting on the ME. You know Hobson?’

  ‘Sure I do.’

  ‘Any time now, he told us, but from the scene: the wound wasn’t jagged. It was a smooth, clean cut.’

  ‘Maybe even a kitchen knife,’ added Ozawu.

  ‘Six inch blade is the best guess,’ said Shue.

  ‘You said the call was put in ten seventeen,’ Leroy said. ‘What’s the guess on time of death?’