Chapter 32
Chapter
It began with surveillance.
I saw patients and read the detectives’ daily reports.
—
For the first three days, both subjects went to work, came home, and stayed there.
On the fourth day, Michael Heck stuck to that routine but Bettina Bel Geddes and her husband took the red Porsche to an Italian restaurant on Little Santa Monica Boulevard.
Ernest Straub, M.D., was fortyish, tall, slim, and gray-haired, favored unstructured suits over T-shirts and wildly colored running shoes.
Alicia and Bel Geddes had never met so she ventured inside the restaurant while Milo stayed in the Porsche 928.
Alicia emerged moments later and got back in the passenger seat. “Both of them are busy on their phones. Wouldn’t it be something if she was calling Heck with Hubby right there? Not that he’s being the least bit attentive.”
“Modern romance,” said Milo.
Ten minutes later, Bel Geddes exited, shifted a few feet to the west of the restaurant in front of a now-dark boutique, and pulled out her phone.
Milo and Alicia waited to see if Straub would join her and when he didn’t, they converged on her.
“Evening, Bettina.”
She clicked off, eyes flashing. “What the fu—”
Then her eyes shifted to the photo in Milo’s palm. The hotel parking lot, full view of her face as she stood next to Heck.
Anger shifted to confusion. Then terror.
She looked over at the restaurant, blinking rapidly, lips quivering. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?” said Milo. “We need to talk, Bettina.”
“I—” Another glance at the photo. “Put that away! Away—please.”
“No prob, if you agree to chat, Bettina.”
“Sure, sure, fine, whatever but now…I…later. Put it away!”
Milo slipped the image back in his pocket. “Not too much later, Bettina.”
“Fine. Tomorrow.”
“Tonight would be better.”
“How can I—I’m with—how can I?”
“Finish your dinner with Dr. Straub, then go home and tell him you want to take a walk.”
“I—he…I…fine. When?”
“Whenever you’re ready. We’ll be able to see you.”
“You’ve been watching me—I can’t believe—this is fu—…crazy.”
“Bon appétit, Bettina.”
“As if. I’m going to vomit.”
But she didn’t, drawing herself up on stiletto heels, fluffing her hair, reentering the restaurant and appearing thirty-two minutes later with Straub.
Neither of them talking.
Alicia said, “This guy walks in front of her. But love the shoes.”
Milo said, “Maybe the reason she digs Heck.”
“Nut for every bolt, huh—okay, the valet just drove up with their Porsche.”
She caressed the edge of a leather seat. “Speaking of which, very nice, L.T. Appreciate the ride-along.”
“Perk of the job, kid.”
—
They followed the couple back to Trenton Drive, watched them park in the driveway and enter their house. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen, twenty.
Alicia said, “Like Doc said, she’s a big one for prep. Maybe she’s calmed down and is calling her own mouthpiece.”
Milo texted Bel Geddes.
Happy to knock on your door.
Seconds later, Bettina Bel Geddes hurried outside, ponytailed, clench-fisted, wearing black velour sweats and pink Nikes.
Fifteen feet to the south, Milo flashed his brights.
She ran over, breathing hard. Milo and Alicia stepped out.
“I had to change, okay? You’re the one who wanted this whole—I can’t exactly run in heels, can I?”
The passage of time had restored some of the attorney-edge to Bel Geddes’s voice. But it wasn’t a durable change and her volume faltered, dropping to a near-whisper at the tail end.
Milo said, “Let’s talk, Bettina.”
“Not here for God’s sake, the next block, I don’t want anyone seeing me with you.”
Alicia said, “We’re not contagious.”
“Please! This is bad enough.” Bel Geddes’s voice broke.
Milo’s notes said, Det. Bogomil and I allowed suspect Bel Geddes to distance herself from her residence.
—
The three of them walked quickly to Walden Drive. Milo stopped on a quiet, tree-shrouded corner and said, “Here.”
Bettina Bel Geddes looked around and stood there, tapping a foot. Not impatience, this time. Fear.
People in poor neighborhoods often take to the streets after dark, escaping cramped, poorly ventilated quarters. The higher-priced spreads in L.A. become ghost towns, and Walden was no exception.
Bel Geddes said, “Okay. What’s this about?” Aiming for tough talk but falling well short.
“You saw the photo, Bettina.”
“Fine, I’m sleeping with another man. My husband’s not exactly a saint.”
Milo said, “Not any man, Bettina.”
“So he’s a client.”
“That’s irrelevant to us. Though it is kinda unprofessional. What does matter is the date of your mini-vacation in La Jolla.”
“Meaning?”
“You’re going to make me explain it? No prob. Check out the time stamp.”
Bel Geddes turned away.
Milo said, “Okay, I’ll spell it out. You were with Heck during the time his alibi for Sophie Barlow was solidified.
So when he was arrested, you both knew immediately that he could weasel out of any charges.
Despite that, you let him sit in jail. Beyond that, you advised him to sit in jail so you could claim PTSD and file a false-arrest suit. ”
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re denying it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’re at risk for an obstruction charge and the more problems you pose, the likelier a compound indictment is. That’s straight from the D.A.’s office.”
Bettina Bel Geddes chewed her lip but said nothing.
Milo said, “Heck’s also going to be charged for obstruction but in his case it goes way beyond that. Now that we know he colluded on a planned fraudulent lawsuit—”
“You can’t prove that.”
“Now that we know what the two of you were up to, Heck’s credibility is gone and we’re putting him back on the suspect list for Sophie Barlow. High on the list. And who knows, you may end up there, too.”
Her head snapped back. “That’s absurd.”
“At the very least, all of this is going to come out in court documents, Bettina. You’re a pro, so you’ll do as good a job as anyone on damage control. But you won’t be able to avoid public exposure. Assuming you’re not involved with Sophie Barlow’s murder.”
“What? How can you even think that? I never met the woman, had no reason—this is big-time fucked up, why are you doing this?”
“To get to the truth, Bettina.”
She clamped her hands on her hips. “More like to prevent your own incompetence and negligence from coming to light.”
“Are you really going to play it that way, Bettina? No prob.”
He turned away and headed back toward Trenton, Alicia at his side.
Ten steps later, Bettina Bel Geddes said, “Wait.”
The detectives remained in place, keeping their backs to her.
The lawyer said, “I may be able to help you.”