Blindman's Bluff

by Faye Kellerman

  “If Cruces rabbits, it won”t be just egg, Margie. It”ll be a whole damn soufflé.”

  WANG SAID, “BAKER Corporation is a subsidiary of Kaffey Industries.”

  “You”re kidding!”Marge opened and closed her mouth. “Kaffey owns Baker?”

  “Read for yourself, but don”t get too excited. I”m sure Kaffey owns a lot of different businesses.”

  “And among the businesses is the bar where Martin Cruces got his alibi.”She skimmed through the pages. “Does this make sense to you, Lee? That Kaffey Industries—a major development corporation that”s responsible for malls nationwide—would bother buying a seedy bar in Van Nuys?”

  “Someone bought the bar using Kaffey money—or Baker Corporation money.”

  Marge said, “Does the Baker Corporation have officers?”

  “If it”s a DBA, probably not. Let me do a little more digging. Or you could just call Grant Kaffey and ask him about it.”

  “I”m not calling Grant. He”s still a major suspect.”

  “How”s he doing?”

  “He”s back in Newport Beach. We don”t have to check in on him because he calls every two hours and asks about Gil. If he”s truly a concerned brother, I admire him. If he”s faking concern, let me tell you something. He”s a lousy actor.”

  CARMEN MONTENEGRO HAD changed into something black and sexyish without going over the edge. She had put on just a dash of makeup and had drawn her hair into a knot allowing little curls to frame the side of her face. She was every high school boy”s fantasy: a TILF—Teacher I”d Like to Fuck. The only giveaway that the dinner had some business content was her briefcase-like purse.

  Oliver had chosen a blue blazer and khaki pants. As they walked to the table, he held out the chair for her. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you.”She scooted the chair closer to the table and took the menu offered by a waiter who introduced himself as Mike. He asked if either of them wanted a cocktail and both opted for a glass of house red wine.

  “Excellent,”Mike extolled.

  After he left, Carmen said, “It”s nice to get dressed up once in a while. Thank you for taking me out here. I couldn”t afford it otherwise. I hope the department is paying.”

  Oliver smiled. “I”ll send in some kind of voucher, but usually the department frowns on these kinds of places. I”m taking you out here just because you”re you.”

  “Don”t you know how to charm a woman.”Carmen opened the menu and her eyes widened. “Did you check this place out beforehand?”

  “Order from the left side,”Oliver said. “The duck is great, but I”m having the Black Angus. And thank you very much for helping us out this afternoon.”

  “You”re welcome. I have the copies of the files.”She opened her purse/briefcase and peered inside. “I hope you can read them, because I had to photocopy the papers. A lot of this stuff was forwarded material from elementary school.”

  “Whose files did you get?”

  “I”ve got Esteban Cruz, Alejandro Brand, Martin Cruces, and José Pinon. I hope I didn”t miss anyone.”

  “Wow. That”s complete. Thank you very much. Are they related?”

  “They all went to Pacoima High, and they all dropped out.”She shut her purse. “Not our success stories, I”m sorry to say.”

  “Were Cruces and Pinon troublemakers?”

  “I don”t know personally, but their records don”t show either as being a thug.”

  “They”re Bodega 12th Street gang members.”

  “That says nothing. The school is crawling with Bodega 12th Streeters.”

  The waiter came back with the wine. “Are you ready to order?”

  Carmen”s smile looked frozen. “I guess I”ll have the duck.”

  “Excellent choice,”Mike told her.

  “Black Angus, medium rare.”

  “Excellent,”Mike repeated. “Would either of you like a side vegetable. Our creamed spinach is excellent.”

  “Sounds good,”Oliver said.

  “Excellent.”Mike took the menus and left.

  “As a former English teacher,”Carmen said dryly, “I would tell him to look in the thesaurus for another adjective.”

  Oliver burst into laughter. “Indeed. At least he”s pleasant.”

  “Yeah, I hate snooty waiters. They make me nervous, like I”m not good enough.”

  “That would never be the case.”

  Carmen lowered her eyes. The next few minutes were spent in idle chitchat about their respective fields. But Oliver was antsy. He really had arranged the dinner for business purposes. When the time seemed right, he said, “Carmen, would you be offended if I took a peek at the records?”

  “Uh…sure.”

  “Why the hesitation?”

  She put up a forced smile. “I don”t know if I was really supposed to copy the files and give them to you.”

  “Ah…I”ll wait. No problem.”

  Carmen slid her purse under the table. “You”re here for a purpose. I respect that. Take a peek, Detective.”She leaned over and wrinkled her nose. “Just be subtle.”

  “It”s Scott, and thanks for being such a good sport. I owe you a dinner where we don”t conduct business.”

  “You don”t owe me anything.”

  “Then I”d like to take you out again.”

  “Are you sure about that?”She grinned. “The evening”s not over.”

  “I”m sure.”Oliver thought about Adrianna Whitcomb and decided she”d have to wait. At his age, he just couldn”t handle more than one at a time. He lifted one of the files from the briefcase on the floor and set it on his lap. Esteban Cruz; he flipped through the pages, but he couldn”t really make out the type because the lighting was so dim.

  Then something stopped him cold.

  Carmen said, “What”s wrong?”

  “Nothing…nothing.”He put the file back and took out another one. This one was José Pinon. Again he paged through the sheets.

  “You look like you”ve seen a ghost.”

  “Sorry to be abrupt.”He stared at his date. “Where”d you score a copy of José Pinon”s fingerprints?”

  “It came with their elementary school records. We have this program where we routinely print the kids in elementary school. We say it”s for kidnapping, but what it”s really been useful for is identifying bodies. We”ve got a lot of gang shooting where often the bodies are dumped without ID and—”

  “Do you have the original fingerprint cards on file or do you just have copies?”He realized his voice was breathless.

  “We have the originals.”

  “With their names on them…just like the copies.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “It”s Scott. I need them, Carmen. Like as in right now. Do you have a key to the high school?”

  “I have a key to the school, but I don”t know if I can give you the cards, Detective…Scott. There may be some invasion of privacy issues.”

  “Yeah, you”re right. I”ll get a warrant.”

  Someone of lesser rank appeared to serve the entrées. Apparently Excellent Mike had bigger fish to fry. Carmen smiled as the waiter placed the duck in front of her. “Thank you very much.”To Oliver, she said, “Shall we ask them to wrap it to go?”

  “Uh…” Oliver regarded his steak. “Uh, no. Just let me make a phone call to my partner and have her prepare the papers.”

  “It”s really okay. I”m kind of an eat-and-run kinda gal anyway.”

  “Give me five minutes, Carmen, and I”m all yours.”He tried to look charming. “Please. It”s going to take a little while anyway to get the paperwork. Why waste a steak?”

  “Okay.”She nodded. “I”ll wait. But if you don”t make it quick, I just may eat your steak. I don”t even understand why I ordered the duck.”

  “Eat mine. I insist.”He excused himself and stepped outside. Marge came on the line a moment later. “I hit the jackpot. The school files have fingerprint cards for Martin Cruces, José Pinon, and Esteban C
ruz.”

  “Holy shit! That”s amazing! I”ll call Oldham for print analysis right now.”

  “Hold on, Margie, there”s a rub. Carmen Montenegro gave us the files on the sly. She doesn”t think that it”s totally kosher to remove them from the school. We need a search warrant to get us into the original files. Rondo Martin identified Cruces and Pinon as being at the scene. That should be enough probable cause.”

  “I would think so. Scott, I don”t want to get the lady in trouble. You don”t think a judge is going to be suspicious about us having to do this at eight in the evening?”

  “Uh…good point.”Oliver was pacing. “I don”t want this to wait until tomorrow.”

  “How about if I say that Rondo Martin just IDed Cruces and the suspect is in our sights now. That we don”t want him to flee like Pine did.”

  “That”s good, that”s really good,”Oliver told her. “As soon as you get the warrant, I”ll meet you at the school with Carmen.”

  “Where are you right now?”

  “Still at the restaurant. We”ll finish up, and she”ll meet us at the school in her own car. It”ll look a little less suspicious.”

  “So you”re still with the lovely lady?”

  “Lovely indeed. And she just got a whole lot lovelier.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  MAN!”DECKER EXCLAIMED over the line. “That just saved us hours of work.”

  “You ain”t kidding,”Oliver said. “Marge just got the warrant signed so we”re off to Pacoima High. Here”s to hoping that the fingerprint cards match our unknown prints.”

  “Amen to that.”Decker”s cell phone beeped for a call waiting. “You put the dinner with Montenegro on your personal credit card, right?”

  “Of course. I didn”t want it getting back that Carmen did anything improper.”

  “Exactly. Is Marge with you?”

  “She”s meeting Carmen and me at the high school. Carmen took her own car.”

  Decker”s phone beeped in a second time from call waiting. He looked at the window. Restricted number. If you aren”t gonna trust me with your number, you can leave a message, bozo. “Call me when you have the fingerprint cards.”

  “I will,”Oliver said. “Where are you now?”

  “Just outside the hospital. Willy Brubeck is watching Rondo Martin, but reinforcements are coming up soon. Did either you or Marge find out anything else about the owner of Ernie”s El Matador and Baker Corporation?”

  “Marge sent a team out to the bar, to press Sam Truillo for the name of El Patrón. I think it was Wanda Bontemps and Lee Wang.”

  “Is Truillo tending bar there now?”

  “I don”t know, but whoever is pouring tap should know the boss”s name.”

  “If Wanda gets any kind of resistance, tell her to haul the son of a bitch in.”

  “I couldn”t have said it better.”

  HARRIMAN PUSHED THE end call button on his phone and plugged it into the cord for recharging.

  Lying in his bed in cotton pajamas that were too heavy for the weather, he felt sweat trickle down his neck and onto his back. The days were getting hotter and his air-conditioning didn”t seem to be working too well. He had cranked up the fly fan to max whirl, but he was still hot. It could be a psychological heat. Who didn”t sweat when nervous?

  For the last ten minutes, his ears had perked up…heightened to every little nuance of sound. Foreign sounds. Sounds he shouldn”t have been hearing at eleven at night. The noises lasted about ten minutes, and then seemed to fade.

  Precisely why he didn”t leave a message. He felt silly.

  Take a chill pill. Relax and read a book. He had four of them piled up on his nightstand. What the hell was he waiting for? Because the noises were probably nothing more than his overactive imagination. If it hadn”t been for that car across the street from Mrs. Decker”s house, he wouldn”t have given the scratches a thought.

  You”re safe.

  He was more than safe. For Chrissakes, there was a cruiser outside his town house watching his front door. How much more security could a person ask for?

  But the sounds weren”t coming from the front of his unit. His place was on ground level, and there was a back entrance. That”s where he heard the scratching. True, that entrance had three locks on it, but still…

  It wasn”t just that he heard things. He smelled things, like the odor of male sweat. And then there was that kid in the parked car across from the Decker house. Nowadays, it seemed that everything was making him nervous.

  So why hadn”t he bothered to leave the lieutenant a message?

  That was an easy one to answer. He felt uneasy about being anxious. It reminded him of his childhood, his feelings of being a”fraidy cat. It took him years to get over his fear of darkness, and damn if he was going to let it get to him again.

  Thinking back over his youth, he recalled how terrified he had felt every time his mother dropped his hand. He was little—five or six or seven—but too old for boys to cry. His father castigating his tears; the old man believed in him, though. He had psychologically and physically pushed him to his upper limits. By the time he was twelve, he could use a cane to expertly navigate his way around anywhere.

  His mind jumped from topic to topic.

  How many times had he tripped and fallen as a youngster?

  How many things had he bumped into?

  How many times had he felt like an imbecile or a clod?

  People treating him as if he was subhuman?

  Even now it was painful to think about it.

  The old man had been rough but only because he had known the world that his son had to face as a blind man. Harriman had been grateful to his father, but he had always sensed two primates on his back—the monkey of his sightlessness and the much bigger gorilla of his father.

  One of his proudest moments had been the day that he had reconciled with the old man, the two of them great friends in adulthood up until the old man”s heart exploded.

  Harriman thought of his father as his ears continued to listen for intrusion. Sometimes, he doubted his own sanity. He was glad he didn”t leave Decker a message. God only knew what the lieutenant really thought about him, but Harriman must have been believable enough for the lieutenant to send out a black-and-white to watch the front door.

  Finally, he was sufficiently calm to get comfortable in bed. He took off his pajamas and felt the cool air of the fan wash over his body. He had to go to work tomorrow—a carjacking/murder case—so he”d better get some shut-eye because he needed to be alert in the morning.

  He turned his iPod to his classical mix of symphonies. The grandiose nature of the music was usually enough to lull him to sleep. He positioned himself on his right side…his favorite side. Closing his eyes.

  No need to turn out the light.

  THE NEWS CAME into the station house just as the clock struck the witching hour.

  Cheers soon followed.

  After comparing the fingerprints from the cards located inside the high school files of Martin Cruces, José Pinon, Alejandro Brand, and Esteban Cruz against the unknowns taken from the murder scene, Oldham found a number of hits. Next came the painstaking process of evaluating whorls, swirls, and lines and he was magically rewarded when Cruces”s index finger and Pinon”s thumbprint proved to be a five-point match to two previously unidentified images lifted from a cabinet and a table.

  An eyewitness plus physical evidence: Decker was in seventh heaven.

  “Who”s picking Cruces up?”

  “We”ve got a group from CRASH on its way to Cruces”s apartment. Messing and Pratt are going to the scene as well. Oliver and I are sticking close to home. As soon as they nab him, we”ll go in for the kill. I”m doing the interview. You want to talk strategy?”

  “Sure. Get a confession.”

  “Thanks, boss, I wouldn”t have thought of that.”

  “Find out who ordered the hits.”

  Marge said, “You know, Pete, I figured out that one a
s well.”

  “Find out where Joe Pine is.”

  “We”re three for three, Rabbi. Mi strategy es tu strategy.”

  Decker smiled. “It would also help if Cruces implicated Alejandro Brand and Esteban Cruz in something bad. I”d love to get those psychos off the streets. How”re my wife and kid doing?”

  “Haven”t heard of any problems. Anything else?”

  “Actually, yes there is. How much time do you think you”ll have between now and the Cruces interview?”

  “How much time?”

  “Yeah…like supposing all goes smoothly and they pick him up. How much time between now and before he”s ready to be interviewed?”

  “They have to pick him up and process him…” She did mental calculations. “He should be ready for interviewing in about an hour.”

  “Then do me a favor, Margie. I got a missed call the last time I spoke to you. It was from a restricted number and no one left a message. It could be a number of people, but I know Harriman has a restricted number. Could you swing by his place?”

  “Isn”t there a cruiser outside his unit?”

  “So swing by and talk to the officers on watch.”

  “Why don”t you call up the officers? Better yet, why don”t you call up Harriman?”

  “I don”t have his number on me, and besides it”s close to midnight.”

  “I can swing by, no problem.”She paused. “Are you worried about something?”

  “Not worried. I just want to make sure everything”s okay.”Decker switched ears. “Even if we nail Cruces tonight, I don”t know where Joe Pine or Esteban Cruz is. Harriman is vulnerable. Just drive by, okay?”

  Marge stood up and slung her sweater over her shoulder. “Okay, I”m on my way. I”ll call you if anything”s up. Will I be able to reach you?”

  “Call the hospital because my cell won”t be working. While Brubeck”s babysitting Rondo Martin, I”m going to try to grab some shut-eye. I”m sure there”s an empty bed somewhere in these corridors. If not, there”s always a slab in the morgue.”

  IF THE COPS out in front of the place weren”t bad enough, the gringo had three locks on the door. But that was rich dudes for you. Thinking that a single piece of metal could prevent a pro from coming in and stealing the gold. The facts were that anything you owned could be taken if the stakes were high enough.