Omerta

by Larry Darter

  “Any insurance policy?” Schuman said.

  “Yes, but only a modest one, five thousand dollars,” Ortega said. “The beneficiary is a kid in his mid-twenties, sort of adopted son of the victim.”

  Schuman nodded, flipped through the pages of the warrant, and then signed it on the last page. “It’s official now,” he said, handing it back to Ortega.

  After leaving the judge’s chambers, the detectives took the elevator up to the district attorney’s office. Ortega needed to pick up some files from another homicide case he had recently closed.

  “I heard about the New York connection,” said a deputy district attorney who was a friend of Ortega’s. “Sounds like a mob hit.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read in the paper,” Ortega said.

  “Wasn’t it an execution-style killing? One shot to the back of the head?”

  “Well, yeah,” Ortega reluctantly admitted.

  The deputy DA flashed Ortega a smug look. “I told you,” he said. “Did the shooter leave a casing behind?”

  “Yes, they did,” Drew said with a grin. “You probably know the mafia usually uses revolvers. And, a mob pro would have never left a casing behind.”

  Ortega laughed, and the deputy district attorney looked deflated. The detectives left the CCB and drove back to West Bureau.

  Chapter 6

  When Ortega and Drew passed by Lieutenant Walsh’s open office door, she called out. “Ortega—Drew, in here,” she said, waving them in with a hand gesture.

  Sitting in Walsh’s office was a deputy district attorney Ortega recognized Scott Brooks from major crimes. Drew had never met him. Walsh pointed at empty chairs, and the two detectives sat down.

  The lieutenant introduced Drew and Brooks. “Give us an update on the Silverman case,” she said.

  Ortega gave the report, concisely bringing the lieutenant and the deputy DA up to date. He told them about the autopsy, the swing by the FAU to drop off the bullet recovered from the victim’s head, and the warrant for Silverman’s phone records. He said the FAU tech had promised to provide results from the NIBIN database submission by the end of the week. Ortega omitted the interview of Margaret Fraley, but not because he was withholding anything. She hadn’t provided them with any useful information.

  When Ortega finished, Walsh said, “Maybe we will get lucky and get a hit from the ATF database on the bullet or casing.”

  “Well, if not, at least we have them for comparison if we ever recover the gun,” Ortega said. “Though I imagine the shooter tossed it into the nearest storm drain after he used it to kill Silverman. Only an idiot would hang on to a three or four hundred dollar gun used in a murder.”

  Walsh nodded. “I’ve got something for you,” she said to the detectives. She picked up a sealed transparent plastic evidence bag and handed it across the desk to Ortega. “Beverly Hills PD dropped that by this morning after you two left.”

  The bag contained an opened envelope and a lined sheet of paper from a notepad. In block print, someone had written Silverman’s address on Benedict Canyon Road and beneath it one word: CADAVER. The stamped envelope was addressed to the Beverly Hills Police, but the sender had misspelled Beverly Hills as “Beverley” Hills.

  “What’s this?” Ortega said.

  “Beverly Hills PD received that this morning,” Walsh said. “They were aware of the murder and brought it right over.”

  “The killer must have sent this,” Ortega said. “Had to have been mailed before we discovered the body.”

  “What do you think it means, detective?” Brooks said.

  “After shooting her, the evidence suggests the killer turned the victim over,” Ortega said. “He or she left Silverman on her back with her hands down at her sides. Drew and I speculated they did that because maybe, on some level, the killer cared about Silverman. They left her in what they thought was a comfortable position. Maybe this means the same thing—like the killer wanted the body found before it decomposed.”

  “So, we’re probably looking for someone very close to her,” Walsh said.

  “I think that is a safe assumption,” Ortega said.

  “Statistics alone suggest that,” Brooks said. “I just saw a report the feds put out that says a recent study of prosecuted murder cases found that eighty percent of murder victims were killed by a friend or relative.”

  “That someone she knew killed her is the theory we’re pursuing right now,” Ortega said. “Preliminary autopsy results suggest the suspect didn’t sexually assault the victim, and we’re confident robbery wasn’t the motive.”

  “Lieutenant Walsh tells me you put little credence in the theory it was a professional hit,” Brooks said.

  “Not at this time,” Ortega said. “I think that theory is so far-fetched we aren’t even going to get into that until we first exhaust all other possibilities.”

  Brooks nodded. “Your reputation proceeds you, Detective Ortega,” he said. “I’ll defer to your judgment and experience to make that call.”

  Brooks stood up. “Thank you for the update,” he said. “The media are all over this. The district attorney is already taking a lot of heat. He is hopeful this case will be solved, and an arrest made quickly.”

  “The chief is in complete agreement with your boss on that count, counselor,” Walsh said.

  Brooks said the perfunctory goodbyes and left the office.

  “Keep at it and take the time you need,” Walsh said to the detectives. “I can keep the chief’s office at bay for a while longer.”

  “I think we’re doing fine,” Ortega said. “We’re going to hit the interviews hard starting tomorrow. I’m going to fax the subpoena to Silverman’s telephone service provider so we can get hold of her phone records. Then I’ll take the note Beverly Hills brought over to TID for processing.”

  “Good, keep me posted, guys,” Walsh said, dismissing them with a wave of her hand.

  Back at his desk, Ortega typed a cover letter to go with the search warrant he planned to serve. Drew checked for phone messages and then got back on the phone. He returned calls to Silverman’s friends and acquaintances he’d called earlier who had returned his calls. By the time Ortega had finished the cover letter, Drew had set up three interviews for the following day. It was almost four. Some other detectives in the squad room were already drifting out of the bureau for the drive home.

  “How’s our day tomorrow looking?” Ortega said.

  “I’ve got three interviews scheduled so far,” Drew said. “What do you think? Four or five a day? We have many people to get to.”

  “Sounds about right,” Ortega said, “considering the windshield time.”

  “Okay,” Drew said. “I’ll make a few more calls and see if I can schedule one or two more interviews.”

  Ortega stood up and slipped on his jacket. “Sounds good,” he said. “I’m going to fax the warrant to Silverman’s telephone services provider. Then I’m going over to Piper Tech to drop off the cadaver letter for latent prints processing.”

  “You coming back?” Drew said.

  “No, it will be close enough to end of watch by the time I finish at TID,” Ortega said. “I’m going to try to get ahead of the traffic on the drive home.”

  “Okay, see you in the morning then,” Drew said.

  “Remember what I told you, Youngblood. Don’t stay too late. No one appreciates you working cases on your own time.”

  “Yes, I’ll make calls and try to set up more interviews until five, then I’ll head home,” Drew said. “And, it’s my turn to bring the coffee in the morning.”

  Ortega nodded and left the squad room.

  Drew made more calls and left more voicemail messages. Frustrated with the lack of progress, he shut down his computer at five and left for home. Tomorrow was another day. Maybe some people he’d left messages for would call him back.

  Chapter 7

  Wednesday morning, Ortega was already at his desk when Drew entered the homicide squad room.
He was looking at a copy of the list of Silverman’s friends and acquaintances Drew had compiled. Drew set a paper cup of Starbucks coffee on Ortega’s desk and then sat down at his desk.

  “See the paper this morning?” Ortega said.

  “I saw the headlines while I was at Starbucks,” Drew said.

  “The media got wind of the New York prosecutor reopening of the case about Hurst’s missing wife,” Ortega said. “They have dropped the mob hit angle in favor of trying to link Hurst to our victim’s murder.”

  “I like that theory myself,” Drew said. “We need to interview Hurst.”

  “Getting to talk to Hurst is going to be a problem,” Ortega said. “The guy is a multi-millionaire who is probably guarded by an army of high-priced New York lawyers who aren’t likely going to let him talk to us.”

  Tommy Pope, another West Bureau veteran homicide detective who sat at the desk on the other side of Ortega’s, rolled his chair back and looked over. He’d overheard Ortega and Drew discussing the case.

  “You’ve already had the Silverman case for four days,” Pope said to Ortega. “You haven’t solved it yet?”

  “Murder investigations don’t work like on television,” Ortega said. “Not that you would know anything about investigating a murder, Tommy.”

  Both of the detectives laughed. “I saw the paper this morning,” Pope said. “The New York cops think Hurst killed his wife. New York detectives were coming out to talk to Silverman about it. Then she turns up dead. I may not be much of a detective, but Hurst is the first guy I’d smack in the forehead.”

  “The problem is he is rich, and for rich people, the law doesn’t matter as much,” Ortega said. “I doubt we’ll be able to get through his phalanx of expensive attorneys to interview him.”

  “One way to find out,” Drew said, picking up his phone. “Who did the paper say was handling Hurst’s wife’s case?”

  “The Westchester County prosecutor reopened the investigation,” Ortega said.

  While Pope and Ortega traded barbs, Drew pulled up the New York Westchester County website on his computer and found the phone number. He then called the office. After they had transferred him several times, Drew finally reached someone who gave him the name and telephone number of Hurst’s attorney. He hung up and called the attorney’s law firm in New York City. He’d expected to leave a message, but the receptionist put him right through to one of the lawyers representing William Hurst. Drew identified himself and told the attorney he was investigating the murder of Hurst’s close friend Fiona Silverman.

  “We’d like to set up an interview with your client,” Drew said. “As our victim’s closest friend, we think he has some insight we won’t be able to get from anyone else. Will he talk to us?”

  “That’s an interesting question, detective,” the lawyer said. I’ll have to talk to my client. We’re handling things gingerly. I’ll have to get back to you.”

  Drew thanked the lawyer for his time and hung up.

  “Looks like you were right,” Drew said to Ortega. “I just talked to Hurst’s attorney. All I got was the runaround.”

  Ortega nodded. “Figures,” he said. “You get any more interviews set up yesterday afternoon?”

  “No, I made more calls after you left,” Drew said. “But, I didn’t have any luck reaching anyone. All we have today are the three I had already scheduled before you left.”

  The detectives left the bureau to interview the three friends of the victim who had agreed to talk with them. They were back at the office by one o’clock, having learned little that helped move the case forward. There had been some common themes. All three of the people they had interviewed steered the detectives away from William Hurst. They did not believe he was involved. Hurst and Silverman had been so close in their relationship that they had seemed almost like siblings, the friends had said. The only other thing was Silverman had told all three that her landlord packed a gun and had threatened her dogs. The landlord, Silverman had complained to one friend, “showed up at all hours of the day and night demanding that she move out.”

  “You know the landlady could have mailed the cadaver note,” Ortega said. “Maybe she didn’t want a rotting corpse ruining her hardwood floors and smelling up the house. We need to interview her.”

  “I’ll call her and see if she will talk to us,” Drew said.

  Drew called Silverman’s landlord, Joan Keller. Keller seemed reluctant to talk without her attorney but asked Drew when the police would release the house. She said she depended on the rental income to live on and needed to get the house cleaned and rented again. Drew explained why the police hadn’t been able to release the house yet and hinted that if Keller would talk with them and answer a few questions, it might help speed the process along. Keller said she would talk with her attorney and get back to him.

  “Seems interesting she has lawyered up,” Ortega said. “I think we need to get a search warrant for her house. We’ve got statements from plenty of Silverman’s friends that she told about the threats Keller made. She’s the property owner, so she had a key. Keller told Silverman she owned a gun. Should be enough to get the judge to sign off on a warrant.”

  “Yes, she’s a viable suspect until she’s not,” Drew agreed.

  “Okay, I’ll type up the warrant and go run it by the judge while you work the phones,” Ortega said.

  Drew went back to his notes. While pouring over the documents and correspondence collected from Silverman’s home, Drew had come across a man named Raymond Hargraves. He had pieced together from the correspondence files that Hargraves, an aspiring writer, had paid Silverman to edit his screenplay. According to Silverman’s day planner, Hargraves stopped by her house twice a week to discuss the editing. Silverman had recorded the last appointment with Hargraves in her day planner, and it had been on the Saturday afternoon before Christmas Eve. Based on what some of Silverman’s friends had told them about how security conscious she had been, it seemed Hargraves was one of the few people the victim had allowed into her house.

  Drew had found Hargraves’ phone number in Silverman’s address book. He dialed the number. Hargraves answered. After identifying himself and explaining why he was calling, Hargraves agreed to talk with the detectives. But he balked at the idea of driving out to West Bureau, which he said would be a hardship. He asked why the detectives couldn’t come to his house to interview him. As a potential suspect, Drew wanted to talk with Hargraves in an interview room to get him out of his comfort zone. As a compromise, he asked Hargraves to meet at Hollywood station on North Wilcox, a reasonable distance from Hargraves’ residence. Hargraves agreed and said he could be there at four o’clock after work. After hanging up, Drew called Hollywood and reserved an interview room.

  “I’ve got an interview set up for four at Hollywood station,” Drew said to Ortega.

  “Who is it with?”

  Drew told him, explaining the relationship between Hargraves and the victim and why he had set up the interview at Hollywood.

  “That sounds interesting,” Ortega said. “Given the timing of his last visit to Silverman’s house, he may have been the last person to see her alive.”

  “Yes, that’s why I wanted to get him in an interview room instead of going to see him at his residence,” Drew said.

  “Good work, Youngblood,” Ortega said. “I’ll run this warrant downtown to Judge Schuman. Then I’ll meet you at Hollywood by four.”

  Ortega left for the CCB with the warrant. Drew went back to the phone. He reached another person he and Ortega were very interested in talking with, Rowan Zuckerman, Silverman’s ex-boyfriend’s son. Friends and the cousin had said Silverman had treated Zuckerman as her adopted son. Zuckerman told Drew he was at the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting to board a flight back to Los Angeles. He said he had been in Austin with the band he played with since the nineteenth of December. His sister had reached him by phone with the news about Fiona, and he was returning to L.A. early.

  “G
iven your close relationship with Fiona, we’d like to talk with you,” Drew said. “We think you could give us some valuable background on some other people we want to interview.”

  “I’ll be back in L.A. late this evening,” Zuckerman said. “How about I come to see you tomorrow?”

  “That works,” Drew said. “How about 10 A.M. at West Bureau on West Venice?”

  “Sure, man, I can be there,” Zuckerman said.

  “See you then, and thanks,” Drew said before hanging up.

  It pleased Drew how things were shaping up. They were finally getting to people who knew the victim best and likely had information that could help push the investigation forward. He and Ortega had both wanted to talk with Zuckerman before approaching Silverman’s agent, Nelson Welch. While many of the people they had already talked to knew of Welch, none had known much about him. The detectives hoped to get some background information on him before talking with Welch. Zuckerman seemed someone in a position to provide the information they wanted.

  Drew stayed on the phone until three and then grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and drove to Hollywood station.

  Chapter 8

  Ortega was waiting for Drew at Hollywood when he arrived. They went to the break room and had coffee while they waited for Raymond Hargraves to arrive. Ortega told Drew the judge had signed the search warrant for Joan Keller’s house. Drew told Ortega about the interview he had set up with Rowan Zuckerman for the following morning.

  “Great,” Ortega said. “We can talk with Zuckerman in the morning, and then we’ll grab some uniforms and execute the search warrant afterward.”

  The watch sergeant brought Hargraves to the break room, and the two detectives escorted him to an interview room. The room was small, so small there was barely enough room to close the door after Hargraves and the detectives sat down at the small table inside.