by Dianne Emley
Iris drove home. She had just turned into her driveway when she heard sirens coming up the street behind her. She watched as an LAPD black-and-white and a plain sedan, both with their sirens and lights going, sped past, made the sharp turn on Capri Court, then switchbacked onto Capri Road. They stopped at what appeared to be the bottom of the steps that led to the Cross house. Iris could see the flashing lights through the trees.
Ignoring the pouring rain, she ran up the eighty steps that connected her street with Capri Road, jumping over the overgrown vines, weeds and broken steps. At Capri Road, the police were cordoning off an area with yellow plastic ribbon. A few neighbors had wandered from their homes to see what was going on. They were peering at the bottom of the steps. She crept closer, pushing her way through the crowd. Banzai’s head was twisted backward on his neck. A thin line of blood trailed from his mouth, across his cheek, and onto the cement steps.
Detectives Tiffany Stubbs and Jess Ortiz were asking if anyone in the crowd knew the dead man.
“I do,” Iris said. She looked toward the mansion at the top of the hill.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Detectives Stubbs and Ortiz rang the doorbell at the Cross house. The mansion did not have a porch to shield them from the pouring rain. They stood with their shoulders hunkered, their hands deep inside the pockets of their slickers.
Stubbs’s hat had a broad brim, but the edges of her hair were soaked anyway, the dark strands lying lank against her collar. She muttered, “Too bad another body had to drop before we could get that jackass.”
Ortiz’s hat was pulled down on his almost bald head. “Wonder how long that kid had been laying there before the homeless guy found him.”
Stubbs picked up the door’s heavy brass knocker and pounded it loudly several times. “Iris Thorne said Banzai Jefferson was escorted out of the Pandora offices around one-fifteen. It’s about a forty-five minute drive in the best conditions from the west side to here. That would place the time of death between two-fifteen and when we found him.” She again loudly pounded the knocker.
A light went on at the far end of the house.
Ortiz looked at a beat-up Volkswagen Rabbit parked near Kip’s house. “Wonder if that’s the kid’s car.”
Kip Cross opened the door. He was wearing a red satin bathrobe with deep cuffs and a monogram on the breast. His expression indicated that the detectives were the last people he wanted to see. “What’s this about?”
Stubbs asked, “Mr. Cross, can we come inside and ask you a few questions?”
Kip turned and walked into the house. He crossed the tiled foyer and padded in his bare feet down the tile steps into the family room.
The detectives followed, closing the door behind them. Rain dripped from their clothing onto the floor.
Kip didn’t seem to care. He didn’t extend an offer for them to remove their raingear or sit down. He undid the sash of his robe, opened it, and pulled it tightly around himself before tying the sash again. He was nude under the robe and wasn’t modest about displaying it. He flicked his hands out, gesturing for the detectives to begin.
Stubbs started. “Do you know a man named Banzai Jefferson?”
“Slightly.”
The detectives were closely watching him, trying to determine whether he knew the reason for this midnight visit. “We found him dead at the bottom of the staircase next to your house.”
Kip stared at the ground with his hands on his hips as if trying to process what he’d just heard.
Stubbs and Ortiz exchanged a glance.
The rain pounded against the house.
Kip impatiently ran a hand over his bristly hair. “What happened?”
“Mr. Jefferson either fell or was pushed,” Stubbs said. “It appears his neck is broken.”
Ortiz unsnapped his slicker, reached inside his jacket pocket, and took out a spiral-bound notebook that had a pen stuck through the wires. He began making notes.
“When?” Kip asked.
“A homeless man found him about an hour ago. We understand he was at your office between about one to one-fifteen this afternoon.”
Kip said nothing.
Stubbs continued. “We also understand that during this time there was an altercation between you and Mr. Jefferson.”
“Who told you this?”
“Iris Thorne.”
Kip fumed.
“She said Mr. Jefferson accused you of stealing something from him. Some computer program.”
“His algorithm—a section of software code. I didn’t steal anything from him.” Kip walked backward a few feet and dropped into a leather easy chair. He didn’t invite the detectives to sit. He folded his arms across his chest and began stroking his eyebrow, staring at a point a few feet ahead.
Stubbs seemed pleased with Kip’s apparent distress. “Can you tell us your whereabouts after you left Pandora this afternoon?”
Kip continued staring, answering the detective without looking up. “I was in a meeting at Pandora until one-thirty, then I left and came home to pick up my daughter to take her to a birthday party in Laurel Canyon.”
“When did you leave for the party?” Stubbs asked.
“Two o’clock.”
“When did you arrive?”
“Four.” Kip put his elbows on his knees and held his head between his hands.
“It took you two hours to get to Laurel Canyon in the middle of the day? Even in this weather it shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
Kip pulled his hands from his face. “There was traffic. It was pouring rain. There was an accident.”
Stubbs put her hands behind her back, her nylon slicker rustling. “Anyone see you leave the house?”
Kip thought for a minute. “Summer, my daughter’s nanny.”
Stubbs, amused by how Kip had described Summer when everyone knew she was more than just the nanny, smirked slightly at Ortiz, who didn’t respond.
“Summer came home from shopping when Brianna and I were leaving,” Kip said.
“And you arrived at the birthday party at four.”
“I just told you that. Call and ask them.”
“After, you brought your daughter straight home.”
Kip bolted from the chair. “Oh, I get it now. You think I murdered that kid. I’m calling my attorney. Shit, Kip, you never learn. Fucking cops.”
“We’ll wait while you call your attorney.”
“I did not kill Banzai! I left my office, came home, and drove my daughter to a birthday party. Then we came home, had dinner, and were here all night. No one came by. The last time I saw Banzai was at Pandora this afternoon.”
Summer came into the room. She was wearing an embroidered kimono of white silk. The soft fabric accentuated her nipples, a detail that did not get past Ortiz.
Her partner’s interest seemed to irritate Stubbs.
“What’s going on?” Summer asked in her little girl’s voice.
“They found that kid, Banzai, dead at the bottom of the steps,” Kip explained.
The skin on Summer’s forehead folded slightly. “What happened?”
“He either fell or was pushed, according to the cops,” Kip said. “They think I had something to do with it. Tell them how you saw me leaving for the birthday party with Brianna.”
Brianna appeared at the top of the tile steps in a flannel nightgown, clutching a worn teddy bear.
Summer rushed toward her. “Sweetie, go back to bed.”
“What do they want?” she asked, recognizing the detectives.
“Don’t worry.” Summer pushed the girl’s tangled hair from her face. “Everything’s okay.”
“Can I have some milk?”
“Go ahead, sweetie,” Summer said. “Go in the kitchen, have your milk, and go to bed.”
When Brianna had left, Summer continued. “I came home from shopping just as Kip and Brianna were leaving. It was three o’clock.”
“Three o’clock,” Stubbs repeated.
“Three?” Kip bellowed. “It
was not three o’clock, you fucking idiot!” He clenched his fists and took a step toward Summer. She took a step back. The detectives looked ready to separate them.
“It was two. Two, two, two! Pea brain!”
Summer stammered, “Uh…That’s right, that’s right. It was two o’clock. Kip’s right.”
“Don’t open that idiot mouth of yours again until my attorney gets here. I’m going to call him right now.” Kip stormed from the room.
Summer seemed stunned and kept repeating, “It was two. He’s right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Ortiz put his notebook away. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Mind if I look around?” Stubbs asked.
Summer shrugged. “I don’t care. I can’t speak for Kip.”
Stubbs walked up the steps and down the corridor in the same direction Brianna had gone.
Summer began to quietly weep.
Ortiz shifted uneasily from foot to foot before he followed Stubbs.
“U, V, W, X, Y, and Z. Now I know my ABCs. Tell me what you think of me.” Brianna was sitting on a stool at an island in the kitchen, dunking graham crackers into a glass of milk that had a layer of brown sludge at the bottom. She held a cracker in the milk too long and it broke in half inside the glass. She was trying to fish it out with her fingers when Stubbs came in. “Do you carry a gun?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever shot anybody?”
Ortiz walked into the kitchen.
“No. Fortunately I’ve never had to use my gun,” Stubbs said.
Brianna gave up on the soggy cracker and immersed a fresh one into the milk.
Stubbs walked closer to the girl. “Brianna, can you tell time?”
“Tiffany,” Ortiz warned.
“Of course,” Brianna said brightly. “I know how to tell time, and I know all my ABCs, and I can print them all too, in big and little letters.”
“That’s excellent.”
“I know how to use the computer too.”
“Very good. Look, do you remember today when you went to the birthday party?”
“It was Joshua’s party. Caitlin won at pin the tail on the donkey, but I saw her peek. That’s not fair, is it? I told my daddy and he said that life’s not fair.”
“Sometimes it’s not. Do you know what time it was when you left to go to the party?”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kip grabbed Brianna and swept her from the stool into his arms. She began to wail. “Trying to get information out of my daughter. You’re on thin ice.”
“Not as thin as what you’re skating on, Mr. Cross.” Stubbs walked from the room with Ortiz following. “We’ll be in touch.”
Sam Eastman answered his door wearing his pajamas and robe. He’d looked through the peephole before opening up, so he already knew who was calling. “What do you want? Do you know what time it is?”
“You set me up.” Evan Finn was standing beneath the front porch roof. The rain was still coming down.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Evan raised his voice. “You know damned well what I’m talking about.”
Across the street, a dog with a deep voice started to bark. Another one elsewhere in the neighborhood chimed in.
An upstairs window opened and a woman looked through the screen. “Sam? What’s going on out there?”
“Nothing, Janice. Go back to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.” Sam turned to Evan. “Wait a second.” He disappeared briefly inside the house, then pushed past Evan. “Come on.” He cut across the rain-saturated front yard. As he was walking, he pointed a clicker at the garage door and it automatically opened. He squeezed past the two cars parked there until he reached a worktable. Tools were hung from a Peg-Board nailed against the wall above it.
Evan surveyed Sam’s empire. “Nice house, two cars—kids have good bicycles. Nice comfortable life. I bet you want to keep it.”
“Tell me what you want before I call the police.”
“I was suspicious when you offered me fifty grand to join McKinney. You didn’t even start at a lower figure. Even if I really had worked at Huxley Investments, I didn’t have the credentials to merit that kind of dough.” Evan strolled past the worktable, picking up and examining tools.
“What do you mean, if you’d really worked at Huxley?”
“Don’t tell me you believed everything in my résumé. How much did he tell you about me?”
“Who?”
Evan smiled. “Don’t bullshit me, Sam.” He picked up a power drill, plugged in the cord, and pulsed the starter lever.
Sam cringed at the noise.
Evan haphazardly drilled a hole into the worktable. “I knew the deal was too sweet. I should have listened to my instincts. But hope springs eternal. I thought he’d finally come around, decided to cut me some slack for once in his life. Use his connections to set me up with blue-blood references. Even a Harvard degree. Imagine! Me, the family screw-up, a Harvard grad. All I had to do was stay away. Sounds easy enough. Just stay the hell away.”
Evan brushed sawdust from the hole he’d drilled and examined his work. “I thought, California’s a big state. Apparently it’s not big enough for the two of us, though. Funny thing about families. They might be the most messed up people you’ve ever seen in your life, but you still want the bond.”
It was cold in the damp garage, but Sam wiped perspiration from his forehead with the cuff of his robe.
Evan set the drill down. Sam quietly exhaled with relief.
“That brings us to Iris. She didn’t want to hire me. She didn’t know the first thing about me. It didn’t take her long to figure out there’s some ulterior motive for my being there—and there is, isn’t there? It’s too bad. She’s a nice person and she works hard.”
Sam looked pale under the garage’s fluorescent lights. “Evan, it’s late. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
“Stop playing stupid. What did he promise you? Money, a job, women, drugs?”
Sam swallowed hard, sensing the jig was up. “Money.”
“Money. But the money was just frosting, wasn’t it? The real pull was the possibility of bringing Iris down. I know all about your feud with her. It’s a big topic at the office. Or maybe you thought it was hot to hobnob with the rich and powerful. You’re not alone.” Evan shook his head. “He’s clever, I’ll hand him that. He wants Iris in a vise so she’ll cave in and sell Pandora to him for a song. You want her ruined. He wants me gone. Very efficient use of manpower. T. Duke Sawyer knows how to maximize his resources.”
“Who are you?”
“He didn’t tell you?” Evan considered that possibility. “Probably not. He works on a need-to-know basis. I’m the prodigal son who’s come home. Coming home wasn’t part of the deal, see? Now he has to exact retribution. I knew he’d do something, but I had no idea I’d play right into his hand.”
“You’re his son? And he’s setting you up like this?”
“Who did you think I was?”
“I don’t know. Some thug he hired. You sure don’t look like you’re related to T. Duke.”
“I was adopted. So were my two sisters. Story is, the old lady couldn’t have kids. I always wondered whether it was him, shooting blanks.”
“If I’d had any idea of what I was getting into—”
“You would have turned him down?” Evan asked. “I doubt that. He’s played you, my friend. He knows you better than you know yourself. How else do you think he’s built an empire?”
“Why would he do this to his own son?”
“The whole thing is very T. Duke. Let’s just say there are some long-standing issues between Daddy and me. But he made one mistake, he underestimated Iris Thorne. She figured out the game before he could make his move. Problem is, now she knows about Canterbury Investments. She’s photocopied my records.”
“I can’t help you with any trouble you get into. That’s the price you pay for being involved in securities fraud.”
<
br /> Evan grabbed Sam by the lapels of his robe and shoved him against a car. “You can help me and you will help me.”
Sam stammered, “Now…now, let’s not get angry. Let’s calm down.”
Evan released Sam and rubbed his hands as if they tingled with the imagined sensation of squeezing Sam’s neck between them.
Sam nervously rearranged his garments. “Why don’t you just quit McKinney Alitzer? You can run this so-called business anywhere.”
“You’re right. I can run the business anywhere. I started it when I was in jail. But I don’t want to quit McKinney. I like working there. I have legitimate business cards, a phone line, health insurance, a little work space all my own. I even went out for drinks with my coworkers. We talked about business. It was fun. I like it. I’m not giving it up.”
“But now that Iris knows about your scam, there’s nothing I can do to keep her from firing you and having you investigated.”
“Yes, there is. And you’ll do whatever I ask if you want to keep this nice life of yours intact.”
“But you claim to admire Iris. Why would you want to get her in trouble? As for me, I’ll give the money back to your father and call the whole thing off. I’ll give it to you, if you want. I’ll even help you find another job. We’ll let bygones be bygones.”
Evan laughed at Sam’s serious expression. “This isn’t about you or Iris. This is about me getting what I want and keeping my father from getting what he wants. If a couple of people get hurt as a result, that’s the way the ball bounces. My father’s spent a lifetime destroying people’s lives and profiting from it. I learned a few things from him. I’m more his son than he would like to admit.” Evan pulled over a tall stool from underneath the worktable. “Have a seat and we’ll talk.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“How much?”
“Four seventy-five a share.”
Iris couldn’t help but laugh and did. “T. Duke, last week you offered five dollars. Then you raised it to five-fifteen, for Brianna’s sake. Gee, I guess you’re really concerned about the little girl.”