Chapter 23
Chapter
It took until Thursday at nine a.m. for him to phone me.
“Alex.” He managed with one word to transmit weariness. I’d assumed no news was bad news, so no surprise when he said, “Found her.”
I said, “Not alive.”
“I wish. Poor thing’s body showed up at a landfill out in Irwindale, a backhoe driver saw a foot sticking out from a mountain of the garbage.
Private outfit, fortunately they’re super organized and stuff gets arranged in grids.
So they were able to backtrack to the garbage truck that brought her.
That particular load was collected from any of a dozen dumpsters, all in alleys downtown.
Whether or not downtown’s where she was killed or just an interim dump site, no idea.
But Central has the case. Either way, it’s unlikely we’re gonna get a more precise fix. ”
“She was recently found?”
“Nope, she was brought into the crypt a week ago, logged as a Jane Doe, and assigned to a pathologist who hadn’t looked at her yet.
Then Basia, God bless her, noticed the sex and the approximate age, ran DNA, and got a match to the futon.
Lots of decomp, without that it woulda taken dental records.
I just called Safe Place and they have the records but it’s moot.
Spoke to Le Gallee who came across pretty broken up. ”
I said, “A week ago is so soon after she left Safe Place.”
“Maybe even the same day. Some shredded pieces of industrial-sized garbage bag were wrapped around her. Basia says body gases probably inflated it and it burst. Unfortunately the bag’s common and no trace evidence was on it.”
“Oh Lord,” I said. “A foot? She was also dismembered?”
“No, everything was intact. Relatively speaking. And she was fully clothed, except for one shoe that fell off and exposed the foot. COD was blunt-force trauma to the back of the skull. Three blows with something heavy and round like a baseball bat. The Central D handling it is a guy named Hector Villalobos. I’ve got a meet with him at noon. You’re invited.”
“I’ve got an appointment until twelve fifteen, can be there late.”
“Better than never. It’s right near you. That fusion place up at the top of the Glen.”
“Convenient.”
“Intended as such for you.”
—
Domo Mario is a nouveau-Japanese-nouveau-Italian restaurant on the east side of the high-end strip mall perched atop Beverly Glen just south of Mulholland.
Crudo coexisting with sashimi. Could world peace be far off?
Working a custody consult had distracted me from the horror of Lynne Gutierrez’s death but by the time I got in the Seville for the drive, images of a gentle, slow woman ending up in a trash pile hit me hard. I’d had nothing but dry toast and coffee at seven but my appetite was dead.
Discovery of Lynne’s body hadn’t discouraged Milo nor a man of his approximate girth feasting on an array of bounty from the ocean. Two sets of chopsticks clicked rapidly. What looked like iced tea was half gone from a pair of twenty-ounce glasses.
Hector Villalobos was fifty or so, with spiky white hair, the facial features of an unsuccessful prizefighter, and a bull-neck. Black suit, white shirt, gold tie, impeccable manicure. Central Division was Skid Row and sometimes worse. A smart person did what it took to feel clean.
Milo introduced us and Villalobos stood, smiled, and offered a rib-steak-sized hand. Despite the oversized paw and massive shoulders his height was a surprise. Five-eight, tops.
He said, “Pleased to meet you, Doctor,” in the voice of a much younger man. “I’ve heard about you.”
I smiled.
“Some people call you a wizard,” said Villalobos. “There are a few who don’t trust shrinks but that’s their problem. There’s also some cussing because Milo’s got dibs.”
Milo said, “Well earned, Hector.”
“How?”
“Deep, abiding friendship.”
Villalobos laughed. “Guess homemade tamales wouldn’t do the trick. My mother’s are killer, Doctor.”
Milo said, “Forget it, he’s beyond temptation.”
“Well, if you change your mind. So. Crazy cases. Plus your other one. Planting DNA? C’mon, that’s TV bull-crap.”
“First time for me, Hector.”
“Hopefully the last.”
Milo said, “Amen. I’ll get the waiter.”
I said, “Don’t bother, had a big breakfast.”
“See what I mean, Hector? Earthly pleasures don’t distract him. That’s why he looks like he does and we don’t.”
Villalobos ran a finger around the interior of his collar. His eyes were soft brown and acute. “In high school I weighed one forty. My wife claims she still loves me but then she tries to get me on all kinds of diets.”
He eyed his plate. Twenty or so bits of raw and cooked fish. “This I can tell her about, no butter, no eggs.”
Milo said, “What’re you drinking, Alex?”
“Coffee would be great.”
He beckoned for the waiter, put the order in, specifying, “Black.” When the man left, he turned to Villalobos. “Why don’t you fill him in on Lynne, Hector.”
Villalobos said, “Milo gave you the basics so I won’t repeat.
Only thing that’s new is we’ve narrowed the number of potential dumpsters from thirteen to nine but they cover a wide area—Olympic all the way to Sixth and Spring to Broadway.
No cameras so far—businesses don’t care what happens to their trash.
But we haven’t finished looking. We being me. ”
I said, “You’re doing it solo?”
“I, me, and myself. Low-priority case according to my boss. He actually tried to palm it off on Robbery-Homicide and they turned it down.”
“Why?”
“They don’t need a reason,” said Villalobos.
“His attitude is we’re not even sure if it was a Central murder, she could’ve been killed anywhere.
The real reason? A body out in the Irwindale dump is a low-probability close and the department’s all about stats.
And so far, can’t argue with that. Doing the camera thing is worse than surveillance—I’m going cross-eyed—but at least I can take bathroom breaks.
And the truth is, Doctor, even if I find something it could just be a dark figure in a hoodie tossing a big bag in at night. ”
He chopsticked a sliver of salmon, dipped it into some kind of sauce, and ate. “Any thoughts are appreciated.”
I said, “The weapon was cylindrical. Any wood fragments in her hair?”
“Nope, we’re thinking a metal bat or something along those lines.” Villalobos winced. “Where are the nice, small-caliber gunshot wounds when you want them? I mean, how many blunt forces do we get?”
Milo said, “Not many.”
“I see bums beating the crap out of each other on Skid Row regularly but it’s rarely fatal. The last homicidal BFI that I had was five years ago—bum-against-bum thing, the victim got sucker-punched, fell, and hit a wall. No whodunit, the puncher hung around next to the punchee sipping Night Train.”
Both of them ate.
Villalobos said, “I’ve got a question for you, Doc. Hard to imagine the same bad guy not doing both victims. So why dismember one and not the other? And why use strangulation on one and blunt force on the other?”
Milo said, “Top of that, it’s not a typical dismemberment. No attempt to hide identity, no sexual overtones.”
I said, “All I can do is speculate but it’s possible the victims meant different things to the killer.”
Villalobos said, “Explain.”
“Martha was likely the primary target. She was murdered first, the killer took time with her and got up close and personal. We know how long it takes to strangle someone. At the scene Dr. Lopatinski suggested the arms meant something to him. I agree but no way to know exactly what. Afterward he posed them in a bizarre imitation of normalcy, wrapped her up carefully, and deposited her in the deep-freeze. Then he left her to be discovered. Proud of his work. Lynne, on the other hand, he dispatched quickly and tried to conceal. Her murder feels more like tying up loose ends. Maybe because she could lead you to him.”
He curled his arms and held his hands palms up, as if hefting something.
“In terms of the bad guy, he’d have to lift and lock, get the body to the rim, and boom.
Not that the poor thing weighed much. In life, I mean.
What was left of her came in at ninety-six but medical records from that place she was stashed put her at one thirteen.
Still, even dealing with that much deadweight can be tougher than people think and this creep did it twice.
Way my back is, I’d be hello chiropractor.
So we’re talking some degree of strength. ”
Milo said, “Mike Heck works out seriously but I can’t see any way to tie him in to Martha, let alone Lynne. The guy we spoke to at Safe Place isn’t overly buffed but he looks in shape and he was in the service.”
“Which branch?”
“Air force mechanic.”
“Heavy equipment,” said Villalobos. “I was a Navy SEAL, but now? Definitely spinal adjustment time.”
“Impressed, Hector.”
“Don’t be. I was thrilled when they accepted me, went in all gung-ho. Then eighteen months in, we were doing deep-sea training and I developed chronic ear infections.” He shrugged. “Got discharged honorably and decided to pamper myself with a nice cushy job in Homicide.”
My coffee arrived.
Villalobos pulled out his pad and turned to Milo. “What’s Mr. Airforce’s full name?”
“David Le Gallee.”
He spelled it and Villalobos copied.
“He bother you at all?”
“Not so far,” said Milo. “But he knew Lynne’s routine and was aware of Martha.”
“So we can hope. Okay, I’ll check him out. Doctor, what do you think of the place itself?”
I said, “Haven’t been inside.”
“I mean the whole setup. Letting someone like that walk by herself, even in a decent neighborhood. C’mon.”
“It wouldn’t have been my policy.”
Villalobos said, “The bleeding hearts think they’re being kind but they usually end up making a mess. Like the whole homeless thing—sorry, let’s stay on topic.”
Milo said, “Working Skid Row, you’re entitled, Hector.”
Villalobos smiled at me. “Listen to him, getting all therapeutic. Obviously, you’ve been a good influence, Doc. Okay, back to basics. Assuming Martha was the primary, we’re thinking it was about her money?”
Milo said, “Can’t see money not being a factor. We found a huge stash but it took time. So for all we know, there was more that was easier to snag and he made off with a serious haul. That level of success, there’d be plenty of motive to tie up loose ends.”
Villalobos wrote something.
I said, “Brutally murdering two family members in short succession with one dismembered feels like a whole lot more than just robbery.”
Villalobos said, “The money plus something else? Like what?”
“Some sort of grudge against Martha. She did put away bad people.”
“So take a look at any murderers she busted who might be back on the street.”
“Or their relatives.”
Milo said, “I’ll do it.”
I said, “Don’t want to complicate things but despite everything I just said, it’s possible Lynne was the starting point.
He learned about the money from her, stalked her when she walked to Martha’s, then returned and began educating himself about Martha’s routine.
If Genevieve Winslow’s dog means anything, the murder began with his showing up during the early-morning hours.
But he could’ve positioned himself in Martha’s backyard and overpowered her when she emerged later. ”
Milo said, “Maybe he got her when she was carrying something out to the deep-freeze and got an idea.”
Villalobos said, “Oh man. Bad, bad dude. Then he goes for Lynne a couple days later.”
“The next time she walked to Martha’s,” I said.
Milo said, “Sounds like someone who worked at Safe Place.”
Villalobos slapped his pad. “Mr. Airforce. Definitely going to educate myself about him.”
Milo said, “I checked and no criminal record.”
“So he changed his name. Bad Dude 101.”
“You have a point,” said Milo. “Someone like Le Gallee, Lynne would’ve trusted to give her a ride to Mama’s. Once she’s in his vehicle, she’s finished. He takes her somewhere and beats her to death.”
Villalobos said, “Head wound. Wherever he did it, there’s gonna be lots of blood. But one question, Doc. If he knew he was gonna do both of them, why not pull it off when they were both at Martha’s?”
I said, “One victim at a time was easier.”
Two sets of chopsticks tilted like tiny lances.
“Efficient,” said Milo.
“Dirty word,” said Villalobos. “Hey, this food is pretty darn good.”