by M. Z. Kelly
After some polite small talk and the chief thanked me for my work with Napa PD, we got down to business. “My secretary said this is about you wanting to see Harlee Ryland.”
“Yes. I have reason to believe she might know something about the whereabouts of my dad’s son, Daniel.”
“Really? Why is that?”
I’d decided before our meeting to leave the tapes my brother had left me out of the discussion. “My other brother Robin and my friends have done some investigating. They believe Daniel’s been hiding out from Harlee, staying at various hotels.”
“I don’t understand why she would be after your brother.”
“I’m not sure,” I said, also leaving out of our discussion the money my dad had left in trust to Daniel and me that Harlee had stolen. “It might be some sort of payback for my adoptive dad’s relationship with her grandfather.”
Bronson nodded and rose. He walked over to his corner window and surveyed the city before turning back to me. “As you know, Ms. Ryland is in federal custody awaiting transport to a secure detention facility and trial. I don’t see what can be accomplished by you meeting with her.”
“My reasons are not entirely personal.”
He came back over and sat down. “Explain what you mean.”
“As we both know, Harlan Ryland was the de facto leader of the Swarm. With his death, that means Harlee is now in control of the terrorist organization. She might still be calling the shots from prison.”
“I doubt that. She has no communication with the outside world.”
“She has a lawyer who, no doubt, has connections to the Swarm. Let me talk to her. It might lead us to others who are still active in the organization.”
Bronson folded his arms across his massive chest. “No.”
I took a breath, tried to remain calm. “Why not?”
His dark eyes bore into me. “You and your family have a long history with the Rylands. Your father was murdered because he dishonored his badge and was on the take, allowing Harlan Ryland to make a fortune dealing drugs. With his death, and Harlee ultimately facing the death penalty for her crimes, that history is over.”
My voice pitched higher. “I am not part of that history and you have no proof that my father was on the take.”
“You forget, Detective, I was working for this department when your father violated his oath as an officer. I heard the rumors and I believe they’re true. Your request is denied.”
I stood, my cheeks flushing with anger. “Just so you know, this isn’t over.”
I turned and headed for the door.
“What does that mean?” Bronson called after me.
I stopped and turned back to him. “It means, I will find a way to see Harlee Ryland, no matter what it takes.”
His hateful eyes bore into me. “We’ll see about that. There’s one other thing you need to know.”
I took a breath, swallowing my anger. “What’s that?”
“I intend to have your father’s badge removed from the memorial wall outside police headquarters honoring fallen officers. A dirty cop doesn’t deserve that honor.”
FIFTY-NINE
I was so angry after leaving Bronson that I took Bernie and left the temporary police headquarters. After the Swarm had bombed the Police Administration Building a few weeks back, the structure had been undergoing renovation across the street.
“Son of a bitch,” I said out loud as I waited on the street for the light to change.
A woman, standing nearby, asked me if I was okay.
I looked at her. “Not really, but thanks for asking.”
After Bernie and I crossed the street, we passed the construction barriers and made our way into the memorial garden near the original police headquarters. I took several deep breaths as I made my way up the steps to my father’s badge, affixed there with those of other fallen officers.
I moved closer, running my hand over my father’s badge. Had he been a dirty cop, someone who was in league with Harland Ryland? I tried to clear my mind, reliving everything I remembered and had learned about my dad since the day he died. As those memories came and passed, I had a moment of clarity. I knew that my father had been a good and decent man, who had done his best by his family and the department.
As the tears slipped down my cheeks, I made a promise. “I will clear your name, Daddy. I will make sure that everyone knows you were a good cop and a loving father. I will make that happen if it takes my dying breath.”
After regaining control of my emotions, Bernie and I left the memorial, and made our way across the street to my car. I then took some time to refocus my thoughts on the case I was working. I realized that one way I could honor my father was by also honoring Anna Levkin and Zoe Saldana. I would find justice for them, just as I would someday find justice for my dad.
I then made the short drive to the Computer Crimes Unit and checked in with the receptionist, asking if George Franken was in. After a ten-minute wait, I met with Franken in his small lab where a table was set up with several computers, phones, and assorted equipment that was foreign to me.
“I was in the area,” I explained, “and wanted to check in on your progress with Ben Allman’s phone and the laptop we took from his office and residence yesterday.”
Franken, who was about forty, with thinning brown hair and squinty eyes, shook his head. “I’m afraid we’re not getting anywhere. As you know, the phone had been underwater, so that hasn’t helped with our analysis, but it looks like the data was remotely wiped from it, along with what was on the computer.”
“What does that mean?”
“Someone used software to delete the data, except for a few bits of random information here and there that’s meaningless. We’re basically dealing with a blank slate on both devices. We’ve used our software to try and recover what was there, but it hasn’t been worked.” Franken sighed. “I wish I had better news.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to suppress a headache that had been surfacing since my meeting with Bronson. I remembered my conversation with the lieutenant, him saying that I couldn’t have anyone look at the equipment unless they were cleared by the department. I tried to weigh that against the possibility of finding evidence on the phone that would lead us to who was working with Allman. I knew I could be fired if I violated department policy, but then I thought about other girls that were probably out there being used in the deadly game called Prank.
“You okay?” Franken said.
My thoughts surfaced. “Yes. I’d like to take the phone and computer with me.”
His brow tightened. “What for?”
“Just playing a hunch. I’m no expert, but I’d like to take some time and scroll through what data there is left on the devices. It might make something click for me. I’ll bring everything back tomorrow.”
He scratched his forehead. “As long as you fill out the paperwork, it’s yours.”
***
After leaving CCU, I went back to the station to check on Olivia’s progress with Donna Roberts. I decided to keep the fact that I’d borrowed Allman’s phone and laptop to myself as I took a seat next to her at my workstation.
“Roberts and I had a lengthy conversation,” Olivia said. “She eventually became more cooperative and admitted that Jason Murray had originally blackmailed her into the game, before Matrona took over.”
“Does she have any idea who Matrona is?”
“No, but it’s clear that she used intimidation and fear, to convince Roberts to work her way up to the highest levels. She’s been involved with several producers, a director, and, as you know, she was supposed to hook up with Stuart Waters tonight. She’s been so manipulated that she’s lost all sense of right or wrong. She thinks that being a Swag is similar to being a supermodel. She even believes that she’s going to eventually marry an A-lister. It’s very sad.”
“Where is she now?”
“I reunited her with her mother. She promised to stay with her and no
t contact Matrona.”
“Did you get her phone?”
“Yeah, but there’s nothing there. Roberts said most of the data from her contacts with Matrona go away shortly after they’re in touch.”
“Can I take a look at it?”
“Of course, but why?”
“I’d just like to scroll through whatever’s left on it. I’ll drop it off with CCU tonight.”
After giving me Roberts’s phone, Olivia asked about my meeting with the chief. I filled her in, my anger resurfacing when I mentioned that he planned to remove my father’s badge from the memorial wall.
“That’s just so wrong,” Olivia said. “If you ask me, this is personal for Bronson. Something must have happened between your dad and him a long time ago that he hasn’t forgotten.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I realized that Leo and Al weren’t in the office and asked about them.
“Leo called and said the autopsy on Allman’s been delayed a couple hours. He said Al’s been throwing a fit about it.”
“Leo’s probably ready to put his partner on one of their tables and slice him open.” I stood. “I’m going to knock off a couple hours early.”
“Big night ahead?”
I smiled, thinking about the plan I’d been formulating all day. “You never know.”
SIXTY
After getting the lieutenant’s permission to go home early, I left the station and stopped at a local park to walk Bernie. As my furry partner sniffed along a flower bed, I called Grant.
“I’m back in town,” I said. “How have you been?”
“Good, just busy with work. I’ve been thinking about you and our plans for dinner. Are you free this weekend?”
“That sounds great, but, if you’re available, I’m in need of a favor tonight.”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“I’d rather explain that in person. Can I come by your office?”
He hesitated. “I’m ah...I guess you could call it at an undisclosed location.”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“The work I do is extremely confidential and sensitive. The location of my business is a little out of the ordinary.”
I chuckled, thinking about my friends. “I specialize in things out of the ordinary. Tell me where you are.”
“Dodger Stadium.”
“You work at Dodger Stadium?”
“Sort of. There’s a lower level, beneath the field.”
Grant went on for a couple minutes, telling me how to gain access to his office.
“See you at seven tonight,” I said.
I went home, changed, and got a bite to eat. I then made arrangements for Otto to watch Bernie while I was out.
Before leaving, I asked Otto, “Where are Natalie and Mo tonight?”
“They said something about a meeting with the city council. They were angry about not getting a permit to...” He cleared his throat. “...I believe they said it was about going swimming without their attire.”
“I see. I guess that doesn’t surprise me.” He seemed distracted, maybe a bit edgy. “Are you okay?”
He sighed. “Not really, but thank-you for asking, madam.”
“What’s going on?”
“Your brother called this afternoon. He’s apparently arranged for me to meet someone.”
“That’s wonderful. Who is he?”
“A gentleman named Felix. He said something about him working as an interior decorator. I told him that after my last experience I don’t believe I’m ready for the dating scene, but he insisted.”
“Do you want me to talk to Robin? Maybe we could work out something short of a date.”
“You’re most kind, but I’m not sure I understand what you have in mind.”
“I was thinking Robin could invite Felix over to give us some tips on redecorating. You could get a feel for him, decide if you’d like to take things from there.”
Otto nodded. “I believe that arrangement would be most satisfactory.”
“Great. I’ll set it up.”
As I drove to Dodger Stadium, I called Robin and made arrangements for what him to bring Felix by later in the week. I learned that Felix did makeovers for a TV show and wondered if he and Otto would have anything in common. I decided that meeting him at our house would at least give them a chance to get to know one another in neutral territory.
I knew from having lived in Hollywood all my life that Dodger Stadium had been built in the early 1960’s. The iconic ballpark was nestled in Chavez Ravine, framed on one end by the backdrop of the San Gabriel Mountains and the other by the skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles. There sun was setting, turning the sky into hues of pink, purple, and gold as I parked.
I wasn’t a baseball fan, but realized there was a World Series game set for tonight. I used the ticket Grant had sent me, then made my way through the crowd to the lower level of the stadium. I found the double doors Grant had mentioned that were marked private. An elderly black man with a name tag that read Earl stood guard at the door as I approached.
“Sandy Koufax, 165 wins,” I said, using the code that I’d been given.
Earl smiled and unlocked the double doors, holding them open for me. “Have a pleasant evening.”
I thanked him and made my way down some steps that opened into a spacious room where I found Grant.
“Glad you could make it,” he said. “Welcome to the Cave.”
“The Cave.” I smiled. “I had no idea any of this was here.”
His lips also turned up. “Yes, it’s hard to believe that a hundred feet above us there are homeruns and hotdogs.”
“Are you a baseball fan?”
He shook his head. “Quidditch. Let me show you around.”
I got the grand tour that consisted of banks of computer monitors, routers with flashing lights, and a host of electronic devices that looked like something used to launch the space shuttle.
“This is amazing,” I said, after we took seats at a long table that ran the length of the room. “But I have no idea what I’m really seeing.”
“That’s a good thing. If you did, I would have to kill you.” He smiled. “Sorry, bad choice of words. Let me just say, what happens in the Cave, never leaves the Cave.”
“I’m glad you said that.” I removed Ben Allman’s laptop, his phone, and Donna Roberts’s phone from my briefcase. “These devices are connected to a crime I’m investigating. It’s my understanding that the data has been deleted. I need to you take a look, see if anything can be restored. This is completely confidential. No one can know I was ever here.”
“Understood.” Grant took the laptop and phones and placed them on the table in front of him. He smiled and made a flourishing motion with his hands. “Let me work my magic.”
We chatted while the magic happened, Grant telling me about his childhood. “I was a bit of a prodigy, especially when it came to music.” He smiled as he worked the keys on the laptop. “I planned to be the next Springsteen.”
“What happened?” I realized I could have phrased things better. “I mean, how did you end up here?”
“Believe it or not, I bought a Clapper.”
“A what?”
“One of those things you used to see on TV, where that elderly woman sits up in bed, claps her hands, and the lights go out.”
I smiled. “Yes, I remember seeing that.”
“I ended up taking the thing apart and found out how it worked. After that, I went on to dissect Nintendo Game Boys, VCR’s, and Apple Macintosh computers. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“You really are a nerd.”
“I told you.” He glanced up from the keyboard. “And you? Don’t tell me you dissected frogs as a kid and decided you liked homicide.”
I laughed. “I think it all goes back to my family history, my dad being a cop.” What I’d said brought my meeting with Bronson to mind again. “He’s the reason I’m here tonight.”
He looked at me again. “Ma
ybe I missed something.”
“My dad was a good man, who wanted to do right by people, despite what some people might think.”
He held on my eyes for a long moment. “Good for you.”
Twenty minutes later, Grant told me what he’d found. “I took a look at the CD cards for the devices, the drive encryption software, file deletion history, and corruption.”
“You’re losing me.”
A smile. “The good news is, nothing is really lost when it comes to computers. You just have to know where to look and how to pull back the data.” He glanced back at the monitor. “Do the words Angels and Swags mean anything to you?”
My pulse quickened. “Yes, they’re girls, blackmailed into prostitution.”
“Wow. Okay.” He worked his keyboard again. “The game you’re investigating is something called Prank?”
“Yes. Go on.”
“The laptop data references someone named Ben who was using a guy named Jason, sometimes called Marcus, to find what they referred to as bait.”
I was sickened by the term, but said, “Ben was someone they called...”
“The Pro.”
I nodded. “He procured the girls.”
He nodded. “And Jason was someone called a Matchmaker and it looks like there were others.”
“They help find the girls, take over their phones, and use compromising photos to black mail them.”
He nodded. “The photos and videos of several girls are all here. They’re very graphic. There’s also the names of several men called Rollers.”
“They’re the high-end buyers for the girls. Can you give me a list of names?”
He nodded. “It will take a while. It looks like there are dozens, some names that I recognize as celebrities.”
It took him several minutes to compile the list. I was sickened when I also recognized the names of actors and others in the entertainment business.
Ben went on. “In some respects, this game is sort of like a Ponzi scheme. The girls have multiple partners and work their way up to the higher level players who often degrade and abuse them. They’re promised lots of money, but it looks like Allman and somebody named Matrona takes most of the proceeds.”