Killer (25 page)

Nancy looked at her bowl. “Meanwhile, you can share this.”

“What is it?”

“Baby octopus. Kind of brutal, I suppose. Poor little things never had a chance. Which you could say about kids who end up as pawns.”

I laughed.

“People are so fucked up,” she said, with sudden fire. “I guess if you can’t tolerate it don’t go into my profession. Or yours. Especially yours. How do you deal with it?”

“Do the best I can, then make sure I have an outside life.”

She thought about that, seemed to turn gloomy. My food came and that snapped her out of her funk. “
Bon appétit
. So why did I ask to talk to you? Because crazy Connie Sykes wanted to have me assassinated and I recently found out she’s been murdered. As you can see, that could complicate my life at an extremely inopportune time.”

“The promotion to white collar.”

“Waiting for the promotion to be finalized—talk about legal limbo. Meanwhile, there’s all sorts of nonsense to go through, that’s what I was doing at Commonwealth, yesterday.”

“Interviewing?”

“Paying homage to the presiding. Big-money cases are a different universe, Alex. Wider in scope, more serious consequences. And with the Feds looking at everything nowadays, the slightest hint of impropriety can be an issue. Not that I’ve done anything wrong vis-à-vis crazy Dr. Connie.”

I said, “She tried to kill me, too.”

Her chopsticks faltered. A baby cephalopod tumbled to the table, rolled a bit, stopped belly-up. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was.” I told her about the attempted hit.

“Shit,” she said. “What a maniac.” She shot me a crooked smile. “Are you the one who got her? Just kidding.”

I ate a piece of sashimi.

“Sorry, I’m just jangled. She actually wanted
both
of us? Anyone else on her hit list?”

“Not that I know about.”

“Wow. I need to get my head around this—what the hell was the matter with her?”

“Obviously lots.”

“C’mon, be specific, you’re the expert.”

“I didn’t evaluate her in depth, Nancy.”

“Why not?”

“All I needed to know for your case was that her claim had no merit. Didn’t take long to discover that.”

“Obviously. Crazy lunatic—talk about a waste of court time. You have no idea how much stuff I see in probate that’s utter crap, people filing paper just because they can. I can’t wait to be out of there.”

Lifting the fallen octopus, she regarded it with what might have been compassion. Then her face got hard and she popped it into her mouth, chewing audibly. Wiped her lips. “So, what have the cops learned so far, Alex? About the late, unlamented Connie.”

“Not much.”

“If there was much, would you tell me?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“How close to the vest the cops wanted it.”

Her head flicked back. Her smile was icy. “Fair enough, Alex. But just tell me one thing: Is there a chance this is going to blow up in my face?”

“Why would it?”

“What I just said: the merest hint of impropriety.”

“Why would being a potential victim constitute impropriety?”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll keep it simple: Lunatic wants to kill judge, then said lunatic dies violently?
I
know I’m blameless as a lamb but cops are suspicious types, once they go nosing around in my personal life and the media finds out, I become a
story
and there goes my transfer.”

“I don’t see why that would happen, Nancy.”

“Then you don’t understand the way things work,” she said sharply. “Sorry, I didn’t ask you here to give you attitude. I’m just a little edgy. Pivotal point in my career and
this
happens.”

I said, “I haven’t heard about any intention to question you.”

She smoothed her hair. “So you are involved in the investigation.”

“Not formally.”

“What does that mean?”

“From time to time I’m asked to weigh in on cases. This is one of them.”

“Even though you’re directly involved.”

“Not anymore,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Connie’s dead. It’s over for both of us, Nancy.”

She shuddered. “When I found out she was after me, I nearly lost it. I get this anonymous message on my private line, freak out, and immediately tell Hank.” Glancing over at Nebe. “Needless to say I wanted her busted immediately for making terrorist threats, was hoping someone in the D.A.’s office would see it that way. Hank asked around and found out she’d just been murdered. I mean this is too bizarre, Alex. What the hell’s going on?”

“Wish I knew.”

“What about the sister? She under suspicion? Because after what that bitch put her through, can’t say I’d blame her. Pardon my loss of objectivity, but when someone desires to slay me it affects my personal feelings.”

“Mine, too, Nancy.”

“There you go, common ground,” she said. She moved as if to touch my hand, thought better of it, ate another octopus. “If you had to guess, would you say it
was
the sister?”

“I honestly don’t know, Nancy.”

“Would you be opposed to checking with your cop contacts?”

“Do my best.”

“Appreciate it.” She called the waitress over, asked for two cups of sake. When they arrived, she raised her glass. “Time for a toast: to the demise of our mutual threat.”

I said, “Bottoms up.”

I drove away from Little Tokyo. Milo called as I crossed Olive Street.

“Where you hiding? Been trying to reach you.”

“Just had a strange lunch with a judge.”

“That so? Well my bit of strange is Winky Melandrano showed up this morning. Actually, he’s been there for a full two days, it took time to I.D. him.”

“
There
being—”

“The crypt. Refrigerated. I was looking at the homicide roster, noticed a white middle-aged John Doe killed in North Hollywood a few nights ago, went over and made the I.D.”

“A few nights ago is shortly after he left his apartment.”

“Looks like he never got on that train.”

“How’d it happen?”

“Meet me at my office. If you’ve got time.”

“Nothing but.”

A stack of photos sat to the left of Milo’s computer: William Melandrano’s pre-autopsy death shots.

Small, dark-mustachioed man with thinning hair. No wounds on the front of his body. Blood-matted strands at the back of his head were parted to reveal a single, smallish bullet hole.

Milo said, “There’s your ‘what.’ ”

I said, “Twenty-two caliber?”

“Good guess but actually a .25, just took a call from the pathologist. Sometimes they exit. This time the bullet stayed in his head—if you take a close look you can see the swelling here.”

He pointed to a spot on the corpse’s brow. Barely visible; I’d have missed it.

“Guess he had a hard skull. Poor guy. ‘Where’ is a couple of blocks from his apartment, nice quiet residential street. He took a stroll and got waylaid.”

“Any sign he was lured?”

“That would be my guess.” He wheeled his chair back. “A witness saw a woman leaving the scene. Old guy who lives in the house near where the body was found. He wears a hearing aid but it was working well enough for him to make out the pop when no one else did. This was about ten p.m., he was going to bed, went outside to check, saw a ‘lady’ walking away. No running, moving nice and relaxed, so he thought nothing of it. The next morning, another neighbor found the body. Empty pockets, no I.D., no money, no cell phone.”

“Apparent robbery gone bad.”

“Apparent but I’m betting not. More like a good way to delay identification, give her more time to run.”

“One shot to the brain stem,” I said. “That’s pretty polished.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said. “People watch cop shows, it’s like homeschooling for amateur criminals. Maybe our hippie hippie chick isn’t all peace-love-Woodstock.”

“What business would Ree have to take care of with Melandrano?”

“He was the dad and that made him a potential threat. As in he sues her for custody.”

“If she was worried about that, why would she tell him he was the father?”

“Maybe she didn’t, Alex. Maybe he figured it out by himself. Or found out some other way.”

“Like?”

“How about Connie convinced him? Suppose after she lost the first round she tried to enlist him as an ally? Promising if he helped her win he’d have full parental rights, maybe even a nice cash payment. Connie’s pattern was using her money as a weapon.”

“No one’s reported any conflict between Ree and Winky.”

“The people you deal with in family court once loved each other.”

I said nothing.

He said, “Connie’s main premise was Ree was a crappy mother—what if she convinced Winky that Ree was mistreating the kid? And for all Connie’s nuttiness, she could’ve ended up with science on her side.”

“She got Winky to take a paternity test?”

“Or at least to try. Hell, she had a lab, could’ve run it herself. And maybe that’s what really threatened Ree and caused her to act. All of a sudden, her big secret’s blown and Winky
is
mad she never told him. A sister suing in probate is one thing. A co-parent dragging her to family court? Unlike Connie, Winky would have the law on his side.”

“Boris Chamberlain didn’t indicate Winky knew anything about paternity.”

“Who says Winky confided in Boris? Look, Alex, I know this is tough. You went to bat for this woman, don’t want to see the kid orphaned. But I have to look at facts on the ground and they tell me Ree Sykes has been clearing away the competition and now she’s headed for parts unknown. Add to that a .25. Know what some guys call it? A girl’s gun.”

“Are you open to an alternative explanation?”

“Like what?”

I told him about my lunch with Nancy Maestro. “She was definitely pumping me for info. Wanting to know how your investigation’s going. I walked away with a weird feeling.”

“Weird enough for a reasonable alternative?”

“How about this: Maestro went after Connie before Connie could get to her.”

“We’re talking a sitting judge committing homicide, but fine, let’s go with that. Now, what motive would Maestro have to go after Melandrano?”

I had no answer for that.

He said, “Peace-love-Woodstock,” and shook his head.

“So now we’re making Connie’s murder a one-woman job, not a tag team.”

“Would two people have made it easier? Sure. But hell hath no fury like a mommy scorned and this mommy was scorned plenty by her own flesh and blood. All Ree had to do to get Connie to open the door was say she was ready to reach an agreement over the kid. Ree had that nonviolent image going for her. The last thing Connie would expect is baby sister sticking her in the gut. Meanwhile, I just checked the state of Boris Chamberlain’s health, seeing as he’s potential daddy number two.”

“He was healthy yesterday.”

“True but it pays to be careful. And happily the Bore-man is live and well and pumping iron like a maniac. That’s per Scott Perugia and his Hollywood narc buddies who are keeping an eye on Chamberlain’s building as we speak. Because, guess what? ‘Cat’ and ‘Jeremy’ turned out not to be rich kids from the Westside, they’re rich kid felony
fugitives
from New York with warrants for dope, bomb building, and embezzlement from Cat’s daddy’s law firm.”

“Wheels of justice,” I said.

“Sorry about how it’s shaking out on Ree, Alex.”

“Any progress finding her?”

“The APB pulled in a ton of mommy-kid reports but nothing valid. The staff at the station didn’t recognize Ree and there’s no record of her buying a ticket. Time to put the marshals on it, anyone can find her they can.”

He dialed a number, reached someone named Jed, started off with catching-up banter before seguing into the specifics of Cherie Sykes’s rabbit. Then he said, “Doing it right now, amigo,” and began pressing keys and sending attachments.

I got up. He didn’t notice. I left.

Denial can only go so far and by the time I reached home I was certain I’d been conned by the best.

Not the first time, probably not the last. No big disgrace. Anyone can be snowed.

Anyone’s
not entrusted with children’s futures.

Maybe it was time to take a break from court cases, work on sharpening my perceptions.

So, of course, the first message my service gave me was from a family court judge, one of the better jurists, named Marvin Applebaum, wanting me to take on a “complicated one.”

The operator said, “Something funny, Dr. Delaware?”

“Pardon?”

“I gave you the message and you started laughing.”

I said, “Just trying to see the bright side,” and hung up.

I called Nancy Maestro’s chambers and got Deputy Hank Nebe. “Doctor,” he said. “Enjoy your lunch?”

“I did. You?”

“Oh, sure. What can I do for you?”

“Judge Maestro had questions about the Connie Sykes investigation. I’d like to fill her in.”

“You can tell me, sir, and I’ll pass it along.”

“No need, have her call me.”

“Suit yourself, Doctor. But if something’s personally relevant to the judge, it’s best that she know it sooner not later.”