Chapter 10
Chapter
Milo said, “Thoughts?”
Before I could answer, the hostess stepped in wearing a permafrost smile. “The room’s reserved, guys.”
“Big-time meeting? Industry honchos?” said Milo.
The question threw her. Like most people who casually lie she was unprepared for challenge.
“Um…”
He flashed a wolf grin that scrubbed her face clean of intention and we walked past her. No escort in, ditto out.
Both of us had parked around the corner, on a pine-shaded Beverly Hills street lined with mansions. Wide swath, smooth and nearly silent; hard to believe the high-end dorm was a brief walk away.
As I walked Milo to his unmarked, he said, “Same question.”
“To me, Heck comes across credible.”
“Yup. And I put the guy in jail. Did you feel what I did? Ol’ Bettina’s definitely setting up a big civil suit.”
I said, “No doubt and that might be the reason she let him stay in jail for two days. And he put up with it. Either he was part of the plan or disoriented. Or maybe both. He agreed with Bel Geddes then experienced what County’s like.”
“Yeah, he does look edgy. Wonderful. Can’t wait for the subpoena.”
“Meanwhile, he did give you some info you might be able to use. Sophie’s friends and his time with Darren Alberts.”
“Baron Darren, Lord and Master of Scumbaggery. It took, what, to uncover him—a decade? I thought he was headed for prison but Heck said he’s senile. You hear anything about that?”
“I did,” I said. “Major dementia, he’s in a care facility.”
His eyebrows dipped. “How come you know that and I don’t?”
“Three neuropsychologists evaluated him. One’s a friend.”
“Honest friend?”
“All three are, including the one hired by the defense. Everyone agreed Alberts has deteriorated to where he needs special care.”
“Convenient. So you’re saying he’s too messed up to pull off a fake-DNA thing.”
“That would be my guess but I can try to find out. And even if Alberts wasn’t directly behind it, someone else at his firm could’ve tagged Heck as a snitch and decided to get even.”
“Someone gets back at Heck by strangling an innocent woman?”
“Targeting a loved one? We’ve seen that before.”
“I guess,” he said, “but ten years ago feels like ancient history to me, Alex. Sure, call your friend. Please. Thank you.”
He salaamed. I laughed.
“Meanwhile,” he said, “my first priority is talking to Sophie’s girlfriends.” He frowned. “Kind of thing I shoulda done right at the beginning.”
I said, “If you feel like beating yourself up, I can’t stop you. But the truth is you didn’t screw up, you got had, just like Heck did.”
He stared at me. “What was that, tough love?”
“Talking truth to power.”
His lips began spreading in a smile. That died when his cell squawked atrocious Mahler.
“Hi again, kid…what? You’re kidding. That’s insane. Oh yeah, definitely.”
He clicked off and strode to the Impala’s driver’s door. “Alicia just found more money at Martha’s place. Not like before, this was a paper bag hidden behind stacks of National Geographic and stuffed with a hundred hundreds.”
“Serious stash.”
“And there are still plenty of places left to search in that dump so maybe it’ll come down to burglary.”
“Burglary plus disarticulation?”
“Okay, someone who knew she had dough and hated her for whatever psychy reason. A crazy daughter would fit that nicely, right? And the fact that Lynne Matthias can’t be found makes her look dirty. I’m heading over there now. Want to see it for yourself?”
“Sure.”
He walked to the rear of the Impala, popped the trunk, and produced a heavy-duty plastic zip bag. Inside was a neatly folded, hooded white coverall along with paper booties and rubber gloves.
“Here you go. Dress for success.”