Final Judgment

by Marcia Clark

  I brought us back to the subject of Bryan. “How upset was Chris? Do you think he’d ever want to . . . hurt him?”

  Rafael looked incredulous. “Chris? Go after Bryan? No way. That’s so not him.” After a moment, he said, “So you really do think someone killed Bryan?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m just wondering. But you seem pretty sure that if anyone killed Bryan, it wasn’t Chris.”

  He was emphatic. “A hundred percent.”

  I had to admit, Chris really didn’t seem to have that kind of violence in him. I had another thought. “Do you think Tanner ever had a sexual relationship with Bryan?”

  Rafael gave a hoot of laughter. “Tanner? Ha! He’s so straight, he wouldn’t care if you called him gay. Every time we partied, he had a smokin’-hot babe on his arm. The last one was really on fire.”

  Alex asked, “When was that?”

  Rafael replied, “Couple of weeks ago.”

  Only a couple of weeks ago. This “babe on fire” might be another source for us. “Do you know her name?”

  Rafael’s brow furrowed. “Uh . . . I think it was Angelina. Long blonde hair, these wild green eyes. And she was kind of short, but every inch was perfect. Like a Barbie doll, man.”

  Alex asked, “Did Tanner say how they met?”

  Rafael pointed to a house on the right at the end of the street. It was one of those Mediterranean-style McMansions. “That’s me. He said he met her at one of his parties. Tanner threw these crazy parties at his condo. Everyone in the building hated him. I remember her saying something about getting him to move to her neighborhood in Los Feliz, ’cause the neighbors were so much cooler.”

  I pulled to the curb in front of his house. “Did you go to all of Tanner’s parties?”

  “No. I only got to go to three.” Rafael made a face. “Most of the time he’d act all Mac Daddy and say, ‘This one’s only for grown-ups.’ He could be such a dick sometimes.”

  Those partygoers could be another source of information. “Did Bryan ever go?” If so, those partygoers might be able to tell us something about him, too.

  Rafael reached for the door handle. “No. Matter of fact, he got super pissed off at Tanner because during one of those parties, a neighbor complained to him about the noise, and they almost got into a fight. It got so bad, someone called the cops.” He paused. “Come to think of it, I should’ve known something shady was going on by the way Bryan got all bent out of shape about the cops being called. I remember him yelling at Tanner for bringing all that attention down on them.”

  I was intrigued. We might just have something here. “When did that happen?”

  Rafael said, “About three months ago.” He opened the door. “Anyway, thanks for the ride. But don’t forget, I never said anything about Chris and Bryan.”

  I nodded. Albeit reluctantly. Ordinarily, I would’ve preferred to try and get Chris to press charges. But there was no point. Bryan was dead. And I was sure Chris had nothing to do with that. “Mum’s the word.”

  Rafael had one foot out the door. He turned back with a quizzical look. “Huh?”

  I sighed. “I promise, I’ll never tell.”

  He got out and patted the roof. “Have a good one.”

  I’d lost one possible suspect. But that didn’t mean we had to give up on the pedophile angle. Rafael’s brother and his friend might be able to give us some names of other potential victims.

  And there should be a record of that police contact at Tanner’s party. Dale would be able to get us that easily. I could only hope it led somewhere.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  We got stuck in the middle of rush-hour traffic and wound up crawling through the canyon. I could’ve walked faster. But it gave me time to call Dale (who groused that I seemed to have forgotten that he had a real day job) and ask him to track down any reports on Tanner’s most excellent mondo condo party. And more than enough time for Alex and me to confer about what we’d learned and what to do next.

  He said, “I’ll get ahold of Rafael’s brother and his buddy, but I have a feeling the pedophile track won’t pan out.”

  I’d been thinking it might still be viable. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because if Bryan had hit on a bunch of straight guys, I’d think at least one of them would already have either put him in the hospital or reported it to the cops. My guess is at most, we might find another Chris. A kid who got a little more than he bargained for but didn’t really do anything about it.”

  And now wouldn’t even admit there’d been a reason to do anything. “Fair point. But let’s find out what the brother and his friend have to say. If they don’t give us anything, we can put that theory on the back burner.”

  We marveled at the Francos’ bizarrely benign view of Bryan and eventually segued into a more general discussion about the way people could deceive themselves into thinking just about anything if they wanted to.

  After I dropped Alex off at his condo, I wondered whether I’d been deceiving myself about Niko. I could accept that there were large chunks of his past he preferred to keep hidden. I’d done the same in my own way. But was the Niko I fell in love with the person I thought he was? I kept coming back to that question.

  And that question was still lingering in my mind as I climbed the stairs to my apartment. I’d just dropped my purse on the kitchen table when my cell phone rang. It was Niko. What timing. He asked how I was doing, and I brought him up to speed on what we’d learned so far. The revelation about Bryan rocked him.

  “No way,” he said. “I can’t believe I missed that. What a scumbag.”

  I wasn’t so surprised he didn’t know. “How much time did you really spend with him? Wasn’t Tanner your main connection?”

  He admitted that was true. “But I didn’t know anything about Tanner’s wild parties, either. Which apparently were legendary.”

  Again, no surprise, that. “Why would he tell you? You’re not the type who’d think those parties were a big attraction.” Although now, I questioned everything I’d thought about Niko, though I knew for sure he was a relatively straitlaced workaholic. At least, he was now. No, I pictured older, much nerdier—or much scuzzier guys—as the prime target. Assuming those parties were intended—in part—to bring in business. A reasonable assumption, based on what I’d learned about Tanner.

  He sighed. “I guess. It’s just kind of . . . upsetting to realize how much I didn’t know about those two.”

  Oh, the irony. “Yeah, seems they both had secret worlds. Anyway, I’ve been checking in with Sophia’s doctor.” I’d promised Niko I’d do the check-ins with the doctor, since the time difference between New York and LA made it so hard to call at a normal hour. “He says she’s stable. I’m planning to go see her tomorrow morning.”

  His voice was wobbly. “I really appreciate your help, Sam. But you don’t need to go. I was calling to tell you we got done early. I’ll be flying home tomorrow. I’ll be back in time to see her myself.”

  I was glad to hear he’d be home soon. But I couldn’t help being a little nervous, too. I didn’t want to act differently with him. And I had a feeling—in spite of my mad crazy acting skills—I might. “That’s great.”

  “And I can’t wait to see you, too. I miss you so much.”

  I tried to keep the nervous edge out of my voice as I said I missed him, too. “But get some rest. You must’ve worked fourteen-hour days to finish this early.”

  He gave a heavy sigh. “More like twenty hours. But it’s worth it. I’ll get to be with you that much sooner.” A male voice in the background called out to him. “I’ve got to go. I love you.”

  I told him I loved him, too, and as we ended the call, a wave of anxiety washed over me. I went to the liquor cabinet, pulled out the Patrón Silver, and poured myself a generous double shot. I didn’t know how I was going to pull this off. Niko was a damn good bullshit detector, and he knew how to spot a phony at ten paces. I took a long sip of my drink. My only
hope was that between his mother’s precarious condition and his own jeopardy, he’d be too distracted to notice any difference in me.

  I took my drink out to the balcony, but the night was cold and damp. The rain could come at any minute. I went inside and sat down on the couch. I turned on the television, but within minutes, my eyes started to close. The alcohol had hit fast. But this time, I knew better than to let myself fall asleep there. I took myself and my Patrón Silver to the bedroom and slid under the covers. I tuned my mini TV to a mindless home renovation show and turned off the light. I fell asleep before the first commercial.

  I woke up to the sound of my cell phone ringing. It took me a few seconds to realize it wasn’t on my nightstand. I’d accidentally left it in the living room last night. I turned off the television—which was now playing a baking show that featured obnoxiously cute kids—and hurried out to the living room. I dug through my purse just in time to see that the caller was Dale. And that I’d overslept. It was already eight o’clock. I tried to make my voice sound like I’d been up for hours. “Hey. What’s up?”

  He sounded amused. “Apparently not you until just this moment.”

  He never misses a thing, and he always lets me know it. “What? You never oversleep? I had a long day.”

  Dale said that no, he’d never overslept in his whole life. “I’ve got some info on the police response to Tanner’s condo party. Apparently it never really got written up. The responding officers just filed an F.I. card and gave Tanner a warning.”

  Probably the neighbor didn’t want to make the bad blood between them any worse. “Do you have the cop’s name and contact information?”

  He gave a tsk. “Oh damn. You need that, too? Of course I got it.”

  I wrote down the name—Deleon Washington—and his cell and office number. He worked in the Hollywood Division now. “Thanks, Dale. I know I owe you.”

  He heartily agreed. “But honestly, this time I’m glad to be able to help. Niko’s a good guy. I’d like to see him get off Kingsford’s radar.”

  I couldn’t agree more. But as we ended the call, I wished I could tell him what I’d just learned about Niko. It’d help to get his point of view. The problem was, if I told him about the mysterious disappearance of that shot caller who might’ve killed Niko’s sister, he’d wind up having the same suspicion I did. And that would only add to the suspicion that he’d killed again. This time to avenge what’d been done to his mother.

  I knew Dale shared my belief in the need to give justice a helping hand now and then, but I wasn’t sure how far that belief would take him—when he’d decide he had to be a cop and enforce the law. I decided that for now, I’d play it safe and keep what I knew to myself.

  I called Alex and told him about my conversation with Dale. “I’d like to go talk to that cop ASAP.”

  Alex was way on board. “I’ll get moving on it right now. If I get ahold of him right away, I’ll call you. Otherwise, I’ll just head in to the office.”

  I remembered that I had a court date fast approaching on another case. “I hate to ask you this, but have you had a chance to dig up anything useful for Jamie Stuart?” My credit card thief was facing a twenty-year sentence if I didn’t find a way to get to Judge Raptor’s cold, reptilian heart.

  “Working on it. I might have something good. But I’ve been meaning to tell you. I just heard from Angelo.”

  I didn’t like the way he’d said that. I’d been hoping Angelo had something good to trade so I could get the D.A. to cut him a lighter sentence. But when Alex last spoke to him, it turned out that all he had to trade was his big brother, Tito—who wasn’t exactly a whale in the criminal ocean. “This doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not. I got a phone call from him yesterday. He said he wasn’t going to talk. He’d just do the time.”

  Damn it. “Did you tell him I’d talk to the cops about getting him protection?”

  “Yes, repeatedly. He doesn’t buy it. He told me to tell you to just do your best.”

  Great. Beautiful. Now my only ace in the hole was the affidavit of the gangbanger who swore Angelo was just selling car parts out of his trunk—not assault rifles. Not exactly a winning hand. “He’s hosed. But okay. It is what it is.”

  “I’ll call you when I find the cop who filled out the F.I. card.”

  I told him that sounded good and headed for the shower. As I stood under the hot spray, I wondered how much Kingsford had found out at this point. From what Alex had been able to learn, Niko had never been busted. If that was accurate, then Kingsford might not be able to find out that he’d belonged to a gang. But he’d certainly know about Niko’s brother, Ivan—who had been busted for drug possession—and the death of his sister, Kristina. What he’d make of all that was hard to say. One thing Kingsford would have to admit: Niko had managed to climb up and out of a really hard childhood.

  I’d just finished toweling off when my cell phone rang again. Fortunately, this time I’d remembered to bring it with me. It was Alex. “You can’t tell me you already got that cop.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Then I won’t. Except I did. Let’s hit the road.”

  I told him I wasn’t dressed yet. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour.”

  He made an exasperated sound. “We don’t have that kind of time. He’s on morning watch. His shift ends in an hour. You get dressed; I’ll drive.”

  I laughed to myself as I ended the call. Back when I had Beulah, he used to drive all the time. He—very rightfully—didn’t trust her. But now that I had a spiffy new BMW, he was happy to let me be the chauffeur. Except at times like this, when he was hot on the trail and revved up to go. I wasn’t sure this lead was worth that much excitement, but given our lack of progress so far, I didn’t blame him for wanting to jump at the possibility of any kind of forward movement. To be honest, now that I thought about it, so did I.

  I dressed as fast as I could, did a minimalist makeup job, and made it downstairs just as Alex pulled up. In a new car—a MINI Cooper. What the . . . ? I got in and belted up. “What was wrong with your Audi?” He’d only leased it a year ago.

  Alex gave me a mischievous smile. “Nothing. I was just tired of it. But that’s not what I told the dealership.” As he backed out of the driveway, he offhandedly said, “Oh, and I might’ve used your name a little.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What did I supposedly threaten them with?”

  He backed into the street and headed for Sunset Boulevard. “You don’t need to know. It’s over. He caved; I won.”

  I didn’t really want to know anyway, so I let it go. Still, I worried that one of these days, Alex would run into someone he couldn’t manipulate. On the other hand, it’d been three years since he started working for me, and it hadn’t happened yet. So I let that worry go, too. “Where are we meeting Officer Deleon Washington?”

  He made a right on Sunset Boulevard and pointed down the street. “Mel’s Drive-In.”

  Mel’s was one of the original drive-in restaurants. It was a hit when it opened in 1947, and it was still going strong. Best of all, it was just a few blocks away. I probably could’ve walked. Alex parked around the corner, and when we walked in, a young black officer in uniform waved to us from a table near the back of the restaurant. I walked over to him and extended my hand. “Samantha Brinkman. Thank you for taking the time, Officer.”

  He nodded. “You can call me Deleon.”

  “Hi, Deleon.” Alex shook his hand. “I’m the one who called you.”

  As I slid into the booth, a waitress appeared at our table. She handed us menus. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  I knew what I needed. “Coffee would be great. Deleon? Whatever you want’s on me.”

  “I don’t need the caffeine,” he said. “About to go off shift. I’ll just have water, thanks.”

  Alex ordered coffee, too.

  I could see that this waitress moved fast, so I held off until she brought our drinks. Sure enough, she was back with t
hem in twenty seconds and asked if she could take our orders. We all went with the standard breakfast fare of eggs (scrambled for me and Deleon, over medium for Alex), bacon, and toast. When she left, I asked, “Do you have a clear memory of the call at Tanner Handel’s condo?” Cops see a lot of action. It was entirely possible his recollection of a minor-league incident like that was sketchy.

  “I do. Partly because we got calls about that place a lot. Handel liked to party hard.” Deleon squinted out the window for a moment. “I felt sorry for those neighbors.”

  Alex followed up. “You said partly. What else made you remember this particular time?”

  Deleon’s lips twitched in a tiny smile. “That woman.” He looked up at the ceiling. “What was her name? Oh yeah, Angelina.” He shook his head. “She’s pretty hard to forget.”

  That was the woman Rafael had mentioned. “I’ve heard she’s very attractive.”

  He chuckled. “She is that. And based on the accent, I’d guess she’s a Russian national.”

  The waitress served our breakfast, and we all dug in for a few minutes. I took a sip of coffee to wash it down, then asked, “Was there anything else about her that struck you?”

  Deleon nodded. “I got the feeling she was a pro. One of those girls who gets paid to whoop it up and keep the men happy.”

  “What made you think that?” I asked.

  He gave a derisive half smile. “The men. They were all older than Handel. Looked like they had money but not the best-looking bananas in the bunch, if you know what I mean.”

  I nodded. “They were marks.”

  “Exactly,” he said.

  So my assumption had been right. Tanner was grooming the men, wining and dining them, so they’d invest with Gold Strike. “By any chance, do you have contact information for Angelina?”

  Deleon gave a reluctant shake of the head. “Sorry. Wish I did. I hear Handel’s gone missing.”