by M. Z. Kelly
“For what it’s worth, Dr. Randolph mentioned that major arteries were severed in both attacks on our victims. He said the killer might have some medical training.”
Darby dismissed what I’d said as speculation before Olivia asked, “What do we know about Robinson’s mother? Is she still alive?”
“Marianne Dahlberg,” Molly said, putting up a photograph of an attractive older woman on another monitor. “She remarried a couple times since her husband was murdered, the latest to a Walter Dahlberg. He’s a wealthy industrialist. She’s involved in a lot of charities and civic boards in the Newport Beach area.”
“I don’t see why we’re even going down this road,” Darby said, again lodging a protest. “It has nothing to do with the current cases.”
I ignored him. “What about the aunt and uncle?” I got a blank look from Woody. “Elizabeth and Haley’s aunt and uncle. You said yesterday the girls were staying with them when their father was murdered. Are they still living in this area?”
“Not sure.” Woody looked at our crime analysts. “Can you see what you can pull together on them? I’ll give you what’s in the reports.”
“Let’s do it,” Olivia said. “Then let’s see about talking to the mother and Haley.” She looked at Darby. “It doesn’t hurt to cover all the bases, since we’re batting zero on this.”
After some more grumbling from Darby, we moved on to the Peters case. Jenny and Molly told us what they’d learned about the Society and Jackson Ellis.
“We talked to an investigator with San Francisco PD named Tony Williams, who had some contact with Ellis about five years ago when the Society was active in that area,” Jenny said. “Ellis had some association with a girl named Gina Benson from San Jose who joined his group. The girl obtained information on her parents’ bank accounts and basically emptied them before she ended up dead from a heroin overdose. Williams said they suspected Ellis was behind her death. They questioned him and he denied everything, of course. Williams thinks she was killed to cover up the theft.”
“Has Williams had any contact with Ellis since that time?” Olivia asked.
“No, but he’s had a special interest in the case over the years, since he felt like Ellis got away with murder. He’s made a point of keeping in touch with Gina’s parents, who also believe Ellis is guilty. Williams said they’re now living in Santa Monica and gave us an address.”
“The MO doesn’t sound too different from our case,” Darby said. “Ellis extorts money from Mel and Marilyn’s parents, then probably does the same thing to Marilyn. When Mel finds out and begins to object, she goes away, along with her sister.”
“Kate, Leo, and I will talk to Gina Benson’s parents,” Olivia said to Woody and Darby. “I’d like you two to follow up with the aunt and uncle on the Wonderland case, maybe also talk to Haley Robinson and her mother, if time permits.”
“Why are we getting cut out of the Peters case again and sent on a wild goose chase?” Darby complained.
“No one’s cutting you out, I’m just dividing up duties. And we’ll see whether or not it’s a wild goose chase.”
“It feels like being cut out to me.” Darby’s face became more flushed and his voice pitched higher. “You forget, Mel was my partner at one time. I have a special interest in solving her murder.”
Olivia exhaled and was about to respond when Leo said, “I’ll work on Wonderland with Woody. Maybe you guys can meet up with us at St. Regis Hospital to talk to Haley Robinson when you’re done.”
Olivia tossed Darby her car keys. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”
Before leaving the office, I took a moment and met with Molly. I told her about our house guest and gave her what identifiers I had on Otto, asking her to do some checking. “Anything you can turn up in the system would be appreciated. I think he’s relatively harmless, but you can’t be too careful about someone who hides in your attic and pretends to be a ghost.”
She laughed. “I can’t believe he really did that.”
“I think he’s been living in Craven House for years and was worried that he might end up homeless if he didn’t scare us away.”
“I’ll let you know what I turn up.”
I was about to leave when something else came to mind. I sat back down. “I have another request and would appreciate you keeping this confidential. It seems I have a brother that I never knew about.” I took a moment and filled her in on what little I knew, deciding not to mention the offshore account. “All I know is that his first name is Daniel. My adoptive dad lived in this area his entire life, so you might check the local hospital records.” Since I didn’t have a birthdate, I gave her the likely time period when Daniel would have been born, based on my dad’s age at the time.
“I’ll see what I can turn up. And don’t worry, this is all off the books, just between us.”
I reached over and hugged her. “Thanks, Molly. I appreciate your discretion and your friendship.”
***
As luck would have it, Darby took his own car to our meeting with Gina Benson’s parents because he had a dental appointment that afternoon. After getting Bernie settled in the back seat of our car, I buckled up and mentioned our earlier meeting. “Sometimes, I think Darby likes to complain just to hear himself talk.”
“He is starting to get on my nerves,” Olivia admitted as she pulled out of the parking lot.
As we pulled onto the freeway, I changed the subject, taking a few minutes to tell Olivia about last night’s sorry events. I finished by summarizing how I felt about my life. “I’m broke and living in a house once occupied by a serial killer, I have a brother I’ve never met out there somewhere who cleaned out my father’s bank account, and my mother, once again, has kept the truth from me.”
“Your mother seems to make a habit of that.”
I shook my head and huffed out a breath. “I’m so angry, I’m not sure if I’ll ever speak to her again.”
Olivia cut her eyes to me. “I think I’ve probably said this to you before, but I can relate.” She slowed down because of heavy traffic and looked at me again. “What are you going to do about finding your brother?”
“I’ve asked Molly to make some general inquiries, but I think I probably just need to give it some time, and not worry about it for now.”
We found George and Tracy Benson’s modest home in the mid-city neighborhood of Santa Monica, a couple blocks from the ocean. It was within walking distance to the Santa Monica Pier, so I knew the home was probably worth upwards of a million dollars, given its location.
Jenny had called ahead, telling the Bensons we were coming, causing Tracy Benson to set out cookies and assorted pastries on the kitchen table and offer us drinks. I gratefully accepted a cup of coffee as Olivia, Darby, and I settled in at the table, and the couple doted over Bernie.
“We had a Golden that was with us about a decade before we lost her last year,” George Benson told us. He was a wiry man in his fifties, who had earlier told us he was a general contractor. He looked at his wife as he ran a hand through Bernie’s fur. “Maybe it’s time for another dog.”
His wife looked at least a decade younger than him. She was slender, with a stylish short haircut. “Maybe.” She looked at Olivia, her expression becoming more serious. “I hope you’re here with some good news, like telling us that bastard Ellis is in jail.”
“Not yet, but we think he could be connected to a couple of recent crimes,” Olivia said.
“He killed our daughter,” George said. “We have no doubt about that.”
Olivia nodded. “I know this is painful, but can you tell us what happened, and about Ellis’s involvement?”
His wife took over, painfully recounting the details about the loss of their only child. “In 2012 Gina was enrolled at City College in San Francisco. She was an undergraduate, unsure about her future or what she wanted to eventually major in. She met Jackson Ellis, or Lazarus, as he’d begun calling himself, when she was in her second year of school
.”
“That’s when her behavior started to change,” George told us.
“In what way?” Darby asked.
“Gina became increasingly withdrawn from us and spent almost all her time with Ellis and his group.”
“The Society.”
He nodded. “That’s what he called his followers, but they were really nothing but a bunch of drug users and thieves.”
Darby’s muddy eyes fixed on the couple. “That’s consistent with what we’ve determined.”
“His followers were completely under Ellis’s control, just like what eventually happened with Gina.”
Olivia set her coffee cup down. “I understand he used her to take money from your bank accounts.”
“We were complete idiots,” George said.
“We didn’t realize what was happening until Gina took thousands from one of our accounts,” Tracy added. “I don’t blame her for what happened, because I know Ellis was controlling her.”
“Did you confront Gina about what happened?”
She nodded. “We tried, but at that point she was so controlled by Ellis that she wouldn’t talk to us about what happened. We then made the decision to go to the police, just so we could try to get our daughter away from him. By then it was too late.”
“I understand the authorities considered Gina’s death a heroin overdose,” I said.
George’s voice broke. “My daughter was no angel, and I have no doubt that she’d used drugs from time to time, but she wasn’t a heroin user. Ellis murdered her because he knew we’d gone to the authorities and he didn’t want her talking.”
We gave them a moment as their emotions took over. Olivia reached over and touched Tracy’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Gina Benson’s mother brushed her tears away and nodded. “Thank you. There’s only one thing we want in this world that can help ease our pain—to see Jackson Ellis in prison. Or dead.”
“What’s the bastard done this time?” George asked Olivia.
Darby answered before Olivia could respond. “We suspect he may have been involved in similar crimes to what happened to your daughter. We think he was extorting money from his victim and her family before killing her and her sister.”
George looked at his wife. “He’s got to be stopped.”
Tracy agreed with him, then said to us, “I think I have some information that may help you find him.”
“What’s that?”
She stood and motioned for us to follow her. “Let me show you what I’ve pieced together. I think I know where Jackson Ellis is hiding out.”
FORTY-TWO
We were led down the hallway of their small home, to an office where there was a large table against one wall with a corkboard behind it. There were photographs of Jackson Ellis, newspaper headlines about him and his followers, and the names and photographs of several other people whom I didn’t recognize. It reminded me of a murder board with photographs, suspect information, and a timeline that a detective might put on a wall as he worked a case.
“I’ve made it my mission since Gina’s death to gather every scrap of information I can on Jackson Ellis and his followers,” Tracy Benson said. Her green eyes shifted as she looked at the information in front of her. “It might sound strange to you, but in some ways I think I’ve been waiting for this day since Gina died.”
“My wife is very organized and tenacious,” George Benson said.
Olivia regarded the small mountain of paperwork in front of us and the photographs pinned on the display. “So I see. Tell us what you know.”
Tracy pointed to the photograph in the center of the corkboard. “This is the most recent photograph I’ve found of Ellis. It was taken at a street fair in Santa Barbara about two months ago, where several of his followers were arrested for theft. They basically went through the crowd, stealing purses, phones, cameras, anything they could get their hands on, while Ellis’s people distracted the owners. Ellis was detained and questioned about the thefts, but, as usual, denied any knowledge of the crimes and was released.”
“What about the other photographs?” Darby asked, referring to the photos of subjects that surrounded Ellis’s picture.
“These are his inner circle.” She pointed out the photo of a handsome man who looked to be in his thirties. The word charming came to mind as Tracy told us about him. “This is William Mathias. He and Julie Yates...” She pointed out a photograph on the other side of Ellis. “...they’re what you might call Ellis’s principal disciples. They run interference for him and make sure the other members of his group take the fall for anything he does. As you can see, Yates is very pretty, so she’s often used as a distraction while Ellis’s followers steal anything they can get their hands on.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. Yates looked like she was in her early twenties, with blonde hair and a winning smile. I imagined that both she and Mathias were an equal distraction to the opposite sex.
Tracy went on for a moment, mentioning about a half dozen other photographs and the associated names, who also formed part of Ellis’s inner circle.
“You’ve done a lot of research,” Darby said. He looked at Olivia. “I think it would be worthwhile to take this.”
Our lieutenant looked at the Bensons. “May we borrow what you’ve put together for a couple of days? So we can go through the information and catalog everything.”
“Of course,” Tracy said. She spent the next half hour telling us about some other photographs, information she’d downloaded from the Internet, and giving us more information about Ellis’s inner circle.
As she worked, Olivia said, “You told us earlier that you think you might know where Ellis is hiding out.”
Tracy finished packing the information from the corkboard and table into boxes. She then walked over to an open closet and moved one of the sliding doors back, revealing a map pinned to the other door.
“This is Camp Tribute,” she said. “It’s adjacent to the national forest about two hours northwest of here. It was a mining camp at one time that’s been abandoned. I can’t prove it, but I think it’s where Jackson Ellis and his followers are staying.”
FORTY-THREE
After leaving the Bensons’, we stopped for lunch at a nearby café, where Olivia gave us her thoughts on the Peters case. “I can understand someone who’s basically young and immature falling under the control of Jackson Ellis, but it’s somewhat surprising to me that Marilyn, who was in her thirties, was apparently involved with him.”
Darby set down the glass of iced tea that he’d almost drained. “Pardon my French, but Ellis is clearly a mind fucker, someone who’s created an organization around him that’s helped him get away with murder. Marilyn was the vulnerable party who he shook down, along with her parents. Mel probably tried to stop him, and Ellis prevented either of them from going to the authorities.”
“Maybe, but there has to be more to what happened.” Olivia looked at me, raising her brows.
“I still don’t think we should rule out Dunbar as a suspect,” I said, “or forget the fact that Mel was involved with lots of men, probably because of her terminal diagnosis. There’s a lot more work to do on this.”
“The only work is finding this Camp Tribute place and taking down Ellis and his gang,” Darby said.
“Even if we find it, and Ellis is there, we’re going to have to build a case to take to the DA,” Olivia said. “That’s not going to be easy.”
“He extorted money from our victims’ father, and we know Marilyn had emptied her accounts. We just need to tie those payments to Ellis and we’re home.”
“It’s still circumstantial, and doesn’t prove murder.” Olivia looked at me as her phone rang. “I think we’re going to have to get one of Ellis’s followers to testify against him if we’re going to make the case.”
After taking her call, Olivia told us that Leo and Woody were at St. Regis Hospital. We quickly finished our sandwiches and made our way to Long Beach. We found Leo and Woo
dy in the lobby of the Emergency Room.
“Dr. Robinson is finishing up with a patient,” Leo told us. “She should be with us shortly.”
Olivia took a seat across from him and Woody, as the rest of us settled in. “How did it go with the aunt and uncle?”
“It didn’t,” Woody said. “Nobody home. We left a card, so we’re waiting for a callback.”
“And the Bensons?” Leo asked.
We took several minutes filling him and Woody in on what we learned. Olivia then said, “When we get back to the office, we’re going to need to put a plan in place to go to Camp Tribute.”
“Dr. Robinson will see you now,” a receptionist said, coming over to us. “We have a small conference room adjacent to the ER suite.”
We followed her through a maze of corridors before Dr. Haley Robinson greeted us outside the conference room. After introductions, her gaze fell on Bernie. “He’s beautiful,” she said. Her blue eyes, the color of tropical water, then found me. “It must be great working with him.”
I smiled. “He’s a very special partner.”
We took seats around the table, where Olivia explained why we were there. She gave the attractive, youthful physician a brief overview of our crimes, then said, “The first murder occurred in your childhood home on Wonderland Drive.”
Robinson visibly blanched and brushed a hand through her long, dark hair. “Oh, goodness.” She took a moment. “You probably know, that’s where...” She shook her head. “My father was killed there.”
“You didn’t see the news coverage about the crimes?” Darby asked.
She shook her head. “I work long hours. TV’s not a priority.”
“Can you tell us about your father’s murder?” Olivia asked, after cutting her eyes to Darby in annoyance.
“There’s not much to tell, really. My sister and I were staying with relatives when it happened. After our mother broke the news to us, we ended up staying with our aunt and uncle for several months. We never went back to the house. I guess you know, the crime was never solved.”