Chapter 37
Chapter
We walked Heck to the elevator, Milo studying his own phone.
More lack of interest made Heck antsy and when the door opened, he rushed inside. When it closed, we returned to Milo’s office.
I said, “Villalobos spotted a car?”
He said, “How the hell—”
“Right after you got the text, you asked Heck what Tiana drove.”
“Ah. Sure, it was obvious, how silly of me.”
He shook his head. Sat down and rocked his desk chair, setting off a chorus of angry mice. “Yeah, that was from Alicia. One of the dumpsters Lynne Gutierrez’s body coulda landed in showed—here, a picture’s worth a zillion syllables.”
He pulled up the phone photo and handed it to me.
Dark alley, aerial view of the rectangle created by the top of an open dumpster. Low-quality, nighttime shot blurring contours and graying colors.
The alley was narrow, the type of afterthought created decades ago when L.A. was adjusting to motor vehicles. The camera was aimed, as so many seem to be, downward from what looked like a story and a half.
Nothing for several seconds, then a dark SUV pulled up and came to a stop to the right of the dumpster. Two parallel rectangles, the vehicle parked inches from the bin, preventing any movement on the driver’s side. The passenger side out of camera view.
Any movement toward the dumpster would be limited to front or rear.
Rear would’ve offered a clear view. But no such luck, as a dark-clad figure, medium-sized and hooded, materialized close to the front bumper, obscuring much of the activity.
The figure bent out of view momentarily then reappeared upright, holding something large and oblong in both arms.
Another bend, not as deep. The type you take when you’re hefting and mustering strength.
Then: a single smooth movement heaving upward. The oblong teetered on the edge of the bin for an instant before rolling over and in.
The figure headed toward the driver’s side, stepping completely out of view. Seconds later, the SUV was gone.
The time stamp fit the parameters of Lynne Gutierrez’s abduction and murder. The size of the discarded package could easily be a body.
He said, “Exactly as Hector predicted.”
I watched the sequence again, returned the phone to Milo. “Any idea what the vehicle is?”
Milo said, “From that angle, I don’t even think a motorhead could tell but I’ll ask.
What it ain’t is an Aston Martin, yeah, yeah, she lost everything.
But I didn’t spot anything feminine. I know Heck said she was strong but he could be snowing us to keep us away from some guy he hired. Or even him.”
I said, “To my eye, the person’s too small to be Heck. How tall is Tiana?”
“Guess we’ll have to find out.” But he made no move toward his keyboard.
I said, “You’re not impressed with his theory.”
“ ’Bout as much as I am by flat-earth morons. C’mon, Alex, what do guilty criminals always do?”
“Deny and distract.”
“Guy’s no genius but he could be thinking he’s clever getting me to chase down someone else. So before I go running off on a tangent, I’m gonna earn a Ph.D. in Mike’s Phone. And his financials. Which I’ve already put in subpoenas for. Which, you’ll notice, I didn’t tell him. Crafty, no?”
He cursed under his breath. “Playboy Mansion gal goes on a rampage because of stuff that happened years ago? Sophie I could maybe see—hell hath no fury. Though even that’s a stretch, going to all that trouble with the cigarettes.
But a woman sawing off Martha’s arms, wrapping her body, and stashing it in a deep-freeze?
Then abducting and bludgeoning her daughter?
All because of one supposed meeting where she supposedly ran her finger across her throat?
Yeah, I know, Heck made sure to let us know Tiana carries a knife.
But that could be another diversion. And bottom line, he and Bel Geddes were planning a monster civil suit payoff, so he remains on the Scumbag List.”
“Good point.”
“But?” he said.
“No buts.”
“Great. Hate that word. Even worse than I hate ‘if.’ ”
He turned and typed, brought up the DMV database.
“Here we go, Tiana Rhea Crown, forty-three years old, blond, blue, five-eight, one thirty-three. Guess she can’t be eliminated on size alone…
drives a…five-year-old Toyota Camry, which is not what we just saw.
But just to be professionally meticulous, let’s see what NCIC has to say about her criminal past.”
Click click. He sat back, smiling. “Not a word. Blameless as a yearling romping in the meadows. That sound like someone who could slaughter three innocent women?”
I said, “Where’s her current address?”
“Why?”
“Maybe she’ll have something interesting to say about Heck.”
“Sure, why not. Yeah, good point…fine, once I get through Heck’s damn data and can take over from Moe watching Heck, I’ll send him out to interview her, maybe his muscles will help establish rapport.”
He returned to the DMV data. His smile faded.
“What?”
“She still lists the house in San Marino as her address. Guess that could be nostalgia, denial, whatever. Or she just never bothered to update it.”
“Or,” I said, “she doesn’t want to be found.”
Putting into words what he’d thought of. He was rubbing his face when Carla Bonair came to the open door.
“Hey, Loo.” She reached in and handed him a zip drive. “Mr. Heck’s phone records.”
“That was quick, thanks. Anything interesting?”
“Didn’t study it,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but couldn’t avoid noticing some of it. Guy’s got problems.”
“Criminal problems?”
“Not that I spotted at first glance. But hormonal problems, for sure.”
Milo loaded the zip drive and logged on. Frame after frame of porn filled the screen, a never-ending fleshy grid.
Bonair said, “Hope the captain doesn’t walk in right now.”
He laughed. He scrolled. Kept scrolling. “Jesus, how much does he have?”
“He could open his own porn site,” said Bonair. “Those guys don’t sue for copyright infringement, right? Or maybe they do. Not my world.”
She smiled, saluted, and left.
Milo returned to his desktop, speeding through page after page of thumbnails. “Nothing personal or illegal, so far.” He laughed. “Can you imagine if I’d asked Sean to do this?”
“Grounds for a harassment lawsuit.”
“Thank God the kid’s true and blue…okay, I’m gonna save these for later, and start examining the calls. No sense hanging around, Alex. Don’t want to turn you into an innocent bystander.”