Grievous Sin (18 page)

McKay stopped and thought a moment. “I really don’t remember. Maybe once or twice. And I don’t know what Tandy’s relationship to Marie is now. I see Tandy all the time, but we don’t talk much. Tandy’s changed so much. I can’t tell you how wimpy she was.”

“When she wasn’t talking to herself.”

McKay smiled. “It wasn’t all that bad. Just that she seemed so upset. I felt sorry for her.” He shook his head. “She’s completely blown me off. Our conversations are professional—muscle groups and diets. Nothing personal.”

“I’m going to try to catch Tandy at Silver’s, Leek.
Don’t
call her. I don’t want to scare her. I don’t want her to think she’s in trouble, because she isn’t. I’m just asking her questions in regard to Marie Bellson.”

“Because of the missing baby.” McKay hesitated. “Personally, I just can’t picture Marie Bellson kidnapping a baby. Then again, I would have
never
thought Tandy had it in her to be a committed builder. Shows you what my thoughts are worth.”

Probably more than you’re letting on, Mr. Leek McKay,
RN, Marge thought. She stared at him. His words seemed straightforward, his manner honest enough, but
something
was hinky. She broke her gaze, then gave him a Mona Lisa smile. Let him squirm. Never know what people’ll do when they squirm.

Marge bit into
her hot dog, mustard squeezing out the other end. She wiped her yellow-stained fingertips with a napkin and said to Decker, “Lita thought Marie’s dentist was in Glendale. She didn’t get more specific than that. Lots of dentists in Glendale?”

“A fair amount.” Decker sipped lukewarm coffee from a paper cup. “But if he exists, we’ll track him down.”

“I hope Lita’s memory is intact. The woman is given over to fantasy.”

“If I don’t find him in Glendale, I’ll look into the neighboring communities, I also have an after-hours appointment with Stan Meecham, Marie’s gynecologist. See what the reason was for her D and C.”

“Twenty bucks says Meecham was treating her for an abortion.”

Decker looked up from his java. Marge filled him in on the details of her conversation with Lita Bellson.

“Three or four abortions?” Decker said.

“That Lita knows about.”

“But they were all when Marie was very young.”

“That’s true. According to Lita, Marie found Jesus and changed her life. But I’m skeptical. She could be leading a double life.”

“Any indications of that?”

“Other than the book collection, not really. But what if Marie was wrestling against impulses, Pete? What if impulses won out?”

“So because she was sexually deprived, she took a baby?”

Marge didn’t respond. She was lost in thought.

Decker said, “On a more mundane note, did you get a chance to ask Ms. Delfern about Marie’s hidden key?”

“As I was leaving I asked her about the box. You know…trying to be casual. She said she didn’t know a thing about the key or a locked box,” Marge answered. “When they socialized, it was primarily after work—at a restaurant or at Paula’s place.”

“What about the nurse who was Bellson’s walking partner?”

“Janie Hannick,” Marge said. “They were just that—walking partners. Not social friends.”

Decker took out his notebook and began jotting down some notes.

Marge said, “Try this on, Pete. Remember Marie had a D and C? Suppose the D and C triggered memories of all her abortions? Maybe something snapped inside her. All these babies she felt she killed.”

“Wasn’t the D and C over two years ago?”

“Maybe she cracked slowly and no one picked up on it,” Marge suggested. “Jesus’ help could only do so much. Looks like we’re working with two nutcases, Tandy and Marie.”

“Being religious doesn’t make you nuts, Marge.”

Marge looked at Decker. “No, I didn’t mean to imply it did. But don’t you think there are some weirdos out there who use religion to hide other problems?”

Decker didn’t answer, thinking about Cindy’s description of symptom substitution. “Why do you say Tandy’s nuts?”

Marge gave him a brief description of Sondra Roberts. Afterward, Decker said, “She talked to herself, or did she talk to someone who wasn’t there?”

“McKay just said talked to herself.”

“Let’s check this girl out.”

“My very thoughts,” Marge answered. “I called Silver’s fifteen minutes ago. She’s not in. I’ll keep at it.”

Decker said, “Go over this Leek guy for me again—his so-called investment sideline?”

“Figured the best way to handle it is for someone to check into his finances. His scamming may not be relevant to Caitlin Rodriguez, but what he’s doing is probably illegal…
if
it’s true. Like I said before, Lita has an active imagination.”

“All right. We can’t have him screwing the old folks. I’ll see if Hollander can’t do a little side work. But this is not top priority right now. The baby is.”

“Agreed.” Marge finished off her wiener. “You find anything interesting on Marie’s calender?”

“Nothing marked Baby Kidnapping Day. I’m still working my way through April.”

Marge licked her fingers, then excused herself and bought another hot dog, this one with sauerkraut and onions. She sat down at the bench chair and placed her meal on the plastic picnic table. Slowly, she unwrapped her wiener, liberating a puff of steam. Decker patted the aroma away from his nose.

“Am I making you hungry?” Marge asked.

“Yes, you sadist.”

“Go on, Pete. I won’t tell.”

“You’re telling me to cheat?” Decker laughed. “You are a bad one, Dunn. Leading people off the straight and narrow.”

“And doing it while I stuff my face with nitrites. What would the builders at Silver’s Gym say about that?”

Marge happily chewed her wiener.

“You know, Pete, there is the real possibility that Leek disregarded my warning and called her up anyway.”

“But you made it clear to him that Tandy isn’t wanted for anything.”

“I did, but I think cops make Leek nervous.”

“Maybe Tandy and Leek are scamming together. You
said she left under unclear circumstances.”

“Unclear is right. Without her records, I really don’t know whether she was laid off or fired or quit.” This time, Marge finished chewing before she spoke. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a warm-up on your coffee?”

“Please. And as long as you’re up, see if they have a bag of potato chips. Something kosher. You know the ropes by now.”

“You’re really hungry.”

“I had a sandwich about an hour ago. It wasn’t enough.”

“Stay put. I’ll be right back.” Marge returned five minutes later with a Coke, a cup of coffee, a bag of potato chips, a salted pretzel with mustard, and a pickle. “Here you go. But don’t take your blood pressure for at least twenty-four hours.”

Decker took a chunk out of the pickle. “Thanks, kiddo.”

“Oooh, my mouth puckers just watching you.” Marge drank her Coke. “Will Meecham be able to tell you what he was treating Marie for? Isn’t that against the law?”

“I’m not sure if it’s privileged information. Stan’s an okay guy. I think he’ll help me out. He may even have the name of Marie’s dentist, come to think of it. Marie’s health insurance is provided by the hospital, but it doesn’t provide dental insurance. Maybe Stan gave her a recommendation. I’ll call the office.”

Marge crunched down on a piece of ice. “What did the coroner come up with?”

“No baby bones.”

“You’re sure?”

“Reasonably. We combed the car trunk and immediate area and didn’t find anything. Captain’s currently conducting a full-scale search for the baby—Rangers, sheriffs, LAPD. Never seen so much cooperation between the different agencies. We’ve got an army’s worth of manpower on one spot. Not to mention the newspeople. Got them to hold off reporting until nightfall.”

“How’d you do that?”

“My charm.” Decker smiled. “And no one wants respon
sibility for lousing up the investigation of a kidnapped baby. If Caitlin Rodriguez is in Angeles Crest, we’ll find her.”

Decker stopped chewing and exhaled forcefully.

“I keep thinking about Caitlin. If Marie’s dead, where is that poor little infant? Is she safe? Is she hungry? Is she dirty? Drives me
nuts
! Then I start thinking about Rina and Hannah and how I should be home with them, making sure they’re safe.”

“Rina wants you here. You’re doing the right thing, Pete.”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

“You are,” Marge said, “What’d the coroner say about the body?”

“Female…a large female.” Decker polished off the pickle and started on the potato chips. “From the vertebrae, the doc figured her to be around five-ten. Marie was tall.” He stopped talking a moment. “I wouldn’t have guessed her as your height, but she was taller than Cindy, and Cindy’s five-seven.”

“You seem doubtful.”

Decker shrugged and resumed his eating. “As soon as we find Bellson’s dental X rays, Hennon’s ready to do the comparison. When I left, she was still in the lab sifting through debris. She told me there wasn’t a lot of frontal bone mass—the face was smashed pretty badly. Hennon figures some of the tooth structure might have fallen out among the ashes.”

“What about the back teeth?”

“Some of them are still intact. Hennon thinks she’ll have enough material to work with once she gets the X rays.”

Marge said, “Did you ask Hennon about Marie’s gold stud earrings?”

“She couldn’t tell if the body wore earrings or not—too burned. As far as the gold goes, it would be in small amounts, would have melted in the heat. We’ll look for gold when we sift through debris.” Decker finished his potato chips and drained his coffee. “I’d better get back to the lab and start my prospecting.”

“I’m off to Silver’s then.”

“Want my pretzel?”

Marge stared at the twisted strands of bread, then wrapped it in a napkin. “Maybe I’ll be in the mood later.”

As Decker stood, a four-by-four pulled up in the fast-food stand’s parking lot. Annie Hennon bounced out of the driver’s side. Her hands were white, but her face and neck were gray from ash and soot. She strolled over to the table, whistling “Working in a Coal Mine,” then sat down.

“And Loretta Lynn thinks she’s the only one who ever got her hands dirty.”

“Your hands are clean,” Marge stated.

“That’s only because I’m smart enough to wear gloves.” Annie examined her nails. “I could really use a decent manicure.” She blew on her cuticles and rubbed them against her blouse. “I suppose you want to know why I’m here.”

“Can’t be for the hot dogs.” Marge made a fist and hit her stomach. “Stuff repeats on you.”

“It’s the sauerkraut, Marge.”

“Good going down, though.”

“You want a hot dog, Annie?” Decker offered.

“Always the gentleman,” Annie said. “No, Pete, I don’t want a hot dog. I want to give you Hennon’s pearls of wisdom.”

Decker unfolded the flap on his notebook. “Shoot.”

Annie pressed her palms together. “First we must recite the Om. Ommmmmmmmm…Gosh, I feel so much better now.” She grew serious. “It’s about the ring. Or what we think was Marie’s class ring. I’ve been doing a little fooling around while what was left of our victim’s jaw was being bleached. I weighed the glob of gold, taking into account the stone. Then I went over to Krechers in Pasadena. Have you ever heard of Krechers?”

“It’s a jewelry store, isn’t it?” Marge said.

“Close. It’s a big-mama place where people buy stones and wax figures and instruments to
make
jewelry. They have all kinds of wax molds and impressions—earrings, pendants,
plaques, figurines—but mostly rings. Lots of rings. I looked through the catalogs and bought five or six wax impressions for different class rings. I also bought gold equal in weight to the glob of gold we found at the smoke scene. My idea was to try to recreate Marie’s I.D. ring. It’s easier to look at a reconstructed model than a chunk of gold. Are you with me so far?”

Decker and Marge nodded.

“All right, so here’s the deal. I cast about four or five different rings from different impressions. Cost me some bucks in gold, and I haven’t even asked the department for reimbursement. How’s that for being a dedicated scientist?”

“You’re A-one, Annie,” Marge said.

“A peach.” Hennon dumped several rings on the table. “These are the rings I’ve come up with. Standard class rings minus the stone. The jeweler sets the rock afterward.”

Marge picked one up. “You do nice work.”

“Thanks. I’ve made some jewelry before, but never have done it for this purpose. It’s kind of exciting to do something new. I can understand why you guys like detection.”

Decker hefted another ring. “They’re not as heavy as the glob was.”

“Some of it may be stone. But basically, it’s the same weight, just different distribution. A small glob feels heavier than a finished ring.”

Annie took out a bag and carefully placed a half-dozen plaster models of breadsticks on the table. “Take a look at these.”

Decker separated them and stared at the shapes carefully. “They’re fingers.”

“What an eye,” Annie said. “I made a plaster cast of the fingers of our victim. Not an easy trick, because the bones were brittle.” She studied one of them. “They’re missing a few anatomical bumps. The alginate picks up the details, but unfortunately the plaster doesn’t.” She waved her hand in the air. “Irrelevant, but it bothers me. What is important is, I got the right dimensions. So what do you see?”

Decker picked up a ring and placed it on the plaster finger. The edge of the gold caught on the second knuckle and scraped it going down. He tried several rings on several plaster fingers.

“So what’s your verdict, Pete?” Annie asked.

“The rings you made are too small for these fingers.”

“What a brain,” Annie said. “Didn’t you say Bellson used to play with the ring, Pete?”

“My daughter said it.” Decker paused. “So did Lourdes Rodriguez, come to think of it.”

“She wouldn’t have been able to slip the ring off her finger if it was a basic class ring. Too tight.” Annie picked up another ring. “Now using the weight of gold we found, this is what the ring would have had to look like in order to fit over any of those fingers.”

The piece wasn’t too thin for an ordinary ring, but thinner than any class ring Decker had ever seen. Most class rings were engraved at the sides. A ring of these dimensions wouldn’t have allowed for more than a little etching. Annie slid the ring over the plaster fingers.

“See how well it fits now.”

“The ring looks way too big actually,” Marge said.

Annie said, “Take into consideration the flesh on the bones, Marge.”

Decker studied the thin ring, then passed it to Marge. “Doesn’t look like any class ring I’ve ever seen.”

“Me neither,” said Annie. “The band’s way too thin for the kind of carving and monogramming they usually do. Plus, with this much gold used for the circumference, there’s not a lot of gold left to support the stone.”

“How about a pinkie ring?” Marge suggested.

“I didn’t bother bringing the pinkies,” Annie said. “But you’re right. This could have been the victim’s pinkie ring. Except that the band would be
so
thick, it would practically take up all the space between the hand and second knuckle. A nurse wearing something uncomfortable like that? I didn’t
see it. But it could be an ill-fitting pinkie ring.”

“You think the ring doesn’t belong to the body you found,” Decker said.

“That’s my off-the-record observation,” Annie said. “It’s inconclusive. I was just fooling around in case it took you a while to find the radiographs. Might set your thinking in a different direction.”