Chapter 25
Chapter
25
Milo pushed away from my desk.
“Dr. Compassionate. Think he’s too good to be true?”
“You do?”
“Nothing he said twanged my antenna but his dad’s estate had to be substantial so one less heir would be nice.”
“His dad died years ago.”
“Maybe there’s been a money battle making its way through the system. What if it dragged on and Rolf Three lost patience.”
“Donna didn’t mention anything like that and she’s not the type to gloss over a fight with anyone, let alone a stepson. More than that, if eliminating heirs was the goal, she’d be in jeopardy herself and once Whitney was murdered, I can’t see her overlooking the threat.”
“Unless she fixated on Sterling—please don’t say it.”
“What?”
“Anything’s possible. My job, that’s terrifying.”
He wheeled around in my chair for a few semicircles. Came to a quick stop, looked up his call history, and punched buttons.
Three rings later, Donna Batchelor said, “What now, Lieutenant?”
“We just spoke to Dr. Batchelor.”
“R-Three? How’s he doing?”
“He seems well, ma’am. He told us he thought of himself as Whitney’s brother—”
“Why wouldn’t he? Blood doesn’t matter, relationships do, and theirs was great. Three wasn’t around much but when he visited he was great with Whitney and she adored him.”
“That’s consistent with his description.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” she said. “And why are you wasting your time with Three or anyone else when I told you where to look. That bastard. ”
“We’re taking that seriously, ma’am, but we wouldn’t be doing our job if we didn’t explore all possibilities.”
“Oh boy,” said Donna Batchelor. “Can’t stop you from meandering but in the end you’ll see I’m right. Besides that, what could you expect to get from talking to Three?”
“You may find the question ridiculous, ma’am, but I need to ask: Was there any sort of conflict related to Mr. Batchelor’s estate?”
Donna Batchelor’s laughter had the soothing effect of ball bearings in a metal bowl.
“No-o,” she said. “And there wasn’t much of an estate. R-Two was a lovely man who’d inherited money and despite being a great CPA for other people, he didn’t care much for his own finances. With both of us working, we always had what we needed and never tapped into a blind trust set up by his grandfather. When Rolf passed we found out the trust had been funded with stupid stuff that didn’t appreciate much and that taxes had sapped most of that. So the estate amounted to a house in Hancock Park that was falling down and sold for a couple of mil, plus a few hundred thousand in miscellaneous assets. I split the proceeds down the middle with Three per the terms of the will. He’s like his dad, couldn’t give a rap about money, so it wasn’t life changing for either of us. I had my own investments for the long term and used my half to get the hell out of L.A. and buy my current place. Got it?”
“You’ve been extremely specific, ma’am.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” said Donna Batchelor. “And specifically, you should be looking at that bastard. Even if it means flying back to New York. But don’t imagine the bureaucracy you work for would ever think of funding that.”
Click.
Milo shook his head. “Why squabble over a measly two mil? Okay, looks like Dr. Rolf’s off the table. And despite what La Donna thinks about Sterling, I’m not feeling him, either.”
He yanked open the top drawer of my desk, drew out a pad of Post-its, peeled one and waved it.
“Know what this is?”
“Square One.”
He sighed. “Why do I bother?”
—
He’d been gone for ten minutes when I thought of something. But it didn’t solve any of his immediate problems so I put it aside.
Time to put all of it aside. I made coffee and brought it out to Robin.
—
Milo called just after seven p.m.
“Moe came up with a coupla unsolved .308 shootings but nothing that sounds similar—probably hunting accidents and none are within a thousand miles of here. Adding to that joy, no more sightings of creepy Mr. Hoodie skulking around Hollywood but Petra pulled up thirty-nine parking tickets from that night. Eight of the drivers have serious criminal records—how does that make you feel about tooling around our city? She’ll follow up on all of them. Raul got no sightings from any parking lot attendant, but the morning guy at a place on the east end of Hollywood that closes at ten came to work the following morning and found the chain cut.”
I said, “Our boy carries wire cutters along with his rifle?”
“Yeah, at first glance it does feel professional. Especially because that lot has no cameras and is out of the way. But on second thought, maybe not so much because it was needlessly risky. What if someone came by and found the damage and a car parked illegally? He gets towed and I.D.’d.”
“Maybe whoever did it knew it was safe because he’s familiar with that lot.”
“Back to the local thing.”
“If the chain-cutter’s our shooter, it raises the probability of him being from that area. Where’s the lot?”
“East Hollywood.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “Walking from the east end to O’Brien’s place would be tough if you’re toting tools. Alternatively, he used to live there but no longer does.”
“Or the chain-cutter’s just a low-impulse scrote wanting free parking. Next item: Boykins’s finances. Slooow ride, only thing I’ve accessed so far is a seven-figure brokerage account with no withdrawals at all. Looks like he’s one of those buy-and-hold guys. Whatever he’s doing, it’s working, kiddo. If moolah’s the goal, gangsta to promoter’s the way to go and we are both in the wrong businesses. What else…oh yeah, on the off chance, I got one of our technically gifted officers to check out the dark web for supposed contract killers. No word back, so far. And that’s the day’s wrap-up, sports fans.”
His bringing up Boykins’s accounts reminded me of what I’d put aside.
I said, “Don’t want to complicate your life but if we’re right about Parmenter threatening Keisha as the motive, she’s got two parents.”
“Mrs. B’s involved?”
“Affluent people often have individual accounts.”
“Hmm, sure why not, let’s see if we can take a look at Mrs. B. Don’t even know her name. Have a nice evening.”
“You, too.”
“Rick’s on-call so I’m staying at the office to eat cold pizza and think. For what that’s worth.”