by M. Z. Kelly
“Mumford?”
“And Corbin. Is it just me, or is Al nothing but a smarmy little know it all?”
“I had a conversation with Leo about him a couple days ago. He said he thinks he’s a burnout, doing another five before he pulls the plug.” I pushed the hair out of my eyes and looked over at her. “What bothers me about him most is he lacks any compassion.”
“He’s just going through the motions and irritating everyone,” Olivia agreed. She glanced at me. “How do you keep it together after all these years?”
I chuckled. “Sometimes, I think the wheels are close to coming off the bus.” I pushed a hand through Bernie’s fur as he poked his head up from the backseat. “I guess it all comes down to the victims, trying to do the right thing.”
She nodded. “What do you think about what Al said about Anna being a prostitute?”
“I don’t want to believe that,” I said. “But I’ve been wrong before. Maybe what happened is just a matter of her being in the wrong place and being taken advantage of.”
“I hope so. I want to believe she was innocent.”
I studied her for a moment. “You’re feeling a personal connection to her, aren’t you?”
She smiled. “You’re beginning to read me like a book.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “A nineteen-year-old girl registers with an agency in the Ukraine and travels six thousand miles to Los Angeles to work as an au pair. Maybe I’m naïve, but I don’t want to believe she somehow found the time and connections to become a working girl.”
My partner had been abused by her father as a child while her mother stood by and did nothing. She was also convinced that he’d murdered her sister when she was a teenager. I didn’t know if that past history was playing a role in her connecting to our victim, but I thought it was possible.
“I say we keep an open mind about everything,” I said, as we turned off Sunset to the upscale residential area of Brentwood. “We owe that much to our victim.”
The Allman’s home was a two-story cape cod with a circular driveway and sprawling lawn, located mid-block just off San Vicente Boulevard. I knew from glancing at the real estate section of the Harold-Press in the station breakroom a couple weeks earlier that the homes in the area were in the two to three-million-dollar range.
As we walked to the front door, Olivia said, “You think anyone’s up this early?”
Leo checked the time on his phone. “It’s a little before six.”
“I guess we ring the doorbell and take our chances.”
Al hung back, popping breath mints, and saying nothing. Maybe he realized Olivia was upset with him. I then decided that wasn’t likely, given his past behavior.
Olivia sighed as she stood on the porch and rang the bell, saying to no one in particular, “Wake up so we can ruin your day.”
It took several tries and several minutes before lights came on inside the house and a man stumbled to the door. “What’s going...” His eyes fixed on Bernie, then took in the rest of us, no doubt making us as cops.
Olivia showed him her badge. “We’re with LAPD. Are you Ben Allman?”
“Yes, what’s going on?”
I knew from an Internet search that Allman was forty-three. Despite his mussed dark hair and sleepy appearance, he was handsome, with strong features and green eyes.
“May we come in for a moment and I’ll explain?” Olivia said.
The door swung wider. “Of course, but...what’s this about?”
Olivia didn’t respond. We’d all gathered in the living room of the spacious home when a woman came down the circular staircase and introduced herself as Laura Allman. She was probably a couple years younger than her husband and beautiful, with dark eyes and luxurious brown hair that looked like she’d taken the time to run a brush through.
“What’s this about?” Laura said.
Oliva released a breath and began to make good on her promise to ruin their day. “We’re here regarding a young woman named Anna Levkin. Does she live here?”
“Of course,” the woman said. “Anna’s our au pair.”
Olivia glanced at me, then looked back at her. She then told the Allman’s what had happened in the straightforward manner that all cops use when making a death notification. “I’m afraid Anna is dead. She was the victim of a homicide last night.”
“That’s impossible.” Laura said, her voice becoming shrill as she looked back toward the stairway. “She’s in the bedroom upstairs asleep, right next to our daughter’s room.”
“Can you show us?”
“Of course.”
She headed for the stairway, with Olivia and me following while Leo and Al remained downstairs with Bernie. We were in the upstairs hallway when I realized her husband had followed us.
Laura stopped at a closed bedroom door, calling out, “Anna, it’s Laura. I’m coming in.” She pushed the door open and realized her au pair wasn’t in bed. She looked back at us. “I don’t understand.”
“What exactly happened to Anna?” her husband asked, standing in the doorway. “None of this makes any sense.”
“Let’s go back downstairs and talk,” Olivia said.
When we were back in the living room, I asked the Allmans, “When is the last time you saw Anna?”
Laura looked at her husband. “I think she went up to her room last night around eight?”
Ben nodded. “Sounds about right.” He looked at Olivia. “I can’t believe this.” His eyes became heavy. “Are you sure it was Anna?”
Olivia nodded. “Her prints matched what’s on file with the DMV. There’s no doubt.”
Laura fell into her husband’s arms and let out a mournful wail. “This can’t be happening. Anna’s like our daughter.”
As she broke down crying, a girl, probably in early twenties, appeared on the stairway and called down to us. “What’s going on?”
“This is our oldest daughter, Brook,” Ben said, reaching out to her as she came downstairs into the living room. He looked at his daughter as his eyes filled with tears. “It’s Anna. I’m afraid she’s...she’s been killed.”
“Oh God, no!” Brook screamed, her emotions taking over. “I think maybe I killed her.”
FOUR
“What are you talking about?” Ben Allman asked his grief-stricken daughter.
Brook continued to cry. “Anna...she...I...I heard a noise in her room last night and went in. She was climbing out her window.”
“What time did this happen?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe a little after eight.”
“Where did Anna say she was going?” Olivia asked.
“She just said that she had to see someone.”
“Someone, as in a boy?”
“Maybe.” Brook’s eyes filled again. She was a pretty girl, but her emotions were overpowering her. “She didn’t exactly say. It’s all my fault. I should have stopped her.”
Laura came over and comforted her daughter. “It’s not your fault, baby. It’s no one is to blame for what happened.”
We heard footsteps and looked over, seeing a little girl coming downstairs. “Where’s Anna?” the child asked, as she went over to her mother and sister.
Laura took her daughter’s hand and led her away, saying, “Let’s find some cartoons to watch, Misty. We’ll talk about Anna later.”
After they were gone, Ben told us that Misty was three, then explained that Brook was in her last year of college at USC, a pre-med major. I got the impression Misty was one of those later in life children that sometimes comes along without planning. Leo then asked Brook about her relationship with Anna.
“We were like sisters, sort of, but maybe not as close,” Brook told him after regaining some composure. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” There were more tears.
“What about a boyfriend?” Al asked her in an accusatory tone. “Anna was obviously sneaking out to see a boy. Who was he?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Jason, but I think he and
Anna were just friends.”
“Who is Jason?” Olivia asked, softening her tone in contrast to Al.
“He’s someone Anna knew from a night class she took at city college.” She told us Jason’s last name was Murray, but didn’t know anything more about him.
“But you think they were just friends?” I said.
Brook nodded, brushed her tears. “Anna wasn’t...she wasn’t into boys.”
“You mean, she was gay?”
She took a breath, her shoulder’s lifting. “Maybe. I’m not really sure. She didn’t really date or talk about her personal life.”
Laura came back into the room as we asked about Anna’s other friends and told us, “Her best friend is...was Felicia...” She looked at her husband, raising her brows.
“I think her last name is Darrow,” Ben told us. “Anna said they met at the mall.”
We went on for a couple minutes, asking about Anna’s sexual orientation, other friends and anyone who might have wanted to harm her. The Allmans said they didn’t think Anna was gay, but couldn’t say for sure.
We didn’t get much else that was worthwhile, before Laura lowered her voice and said, “Tell us what happened to Anna.”
Olivia looked at me and I nodded, a signal that she should answer. “Anna was at the Crosby Hotel in Hollywood last night. The security video shows she entered the building with a man around nine. Her body was later discovered in one of the rooms by a maid.”
“Noooo...” The word came out with a muffled cry as the impact of what had happened hit Laura again.
After giving her some time to regain her composure, I asked about Anna’s background and how she came to work for them.
Ben answered. “We were in need of a nanny, since I’m busy with the marketing firm and Laura helps with the books. We went through an agency called APN. They matched Anna with us after a few weeks.”
I mentioned the driver’s license issue. “Anna had a driver’s license issued under a vehicle code section that allows undocumented persons to legally drive a motor vehicle. Do you know why that would be the case, considering she was here on a state department approved visa?”
Ben looked at his wife. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I took her to the DMV when she got her license,” Laura said. “She never mentioned anything about being undocumented. I don’t understand.”
“Maybe there was some kind of mistake,” I said, deciding we needed to check with the placement agency regarding her legal status.
“We know Anna’s from the Ukraine,” Olivia said. “Can you tell us when she arrived in this country?”
“It was in February of this year,” Laura said, after blowing her nose. “I remember, because Misty, Brook, and I met her at the airport.”
“Did she ever mention having any trouble in her home country, maybe someone there who wanted to harm her?” Al asked, coming over to us.
“No, not at all. She did say her mother was poor and I know she sent money to help her out. I don’t think her father was in the picture.”
“What about prostitution?” Al said.
“What are you talking about?” Laura demanded, her tone indignant.
“Some girls from that part of the world are into prostitution. They’re used as sexual slaves, working for criminal organizations. It’s possible that Anna was into that lifestyle.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She looked at her husband.
“Anna was a sweet, innocent girl,” Ben agreed. “The idea that she could be a...a prostitute is crazy.”
Al looked at us, shrugging, then said to the Allman’s, “We had to ask.”
We spent another hour with the family, learning that a woman named Chloe Foster was the placement coordinator for APN, the company that had placed Anna with them. We also learned that Ben owned a marketing company and had contracts with several companies. He said his business had been very successful in recent years and he was considering opening an office in New York. While Laura said she helped with the books, we learned she spent most of her spare time doing charitable work.
After Brook said she would try to get us some contact information for Jason Murray and Felicia Darrow, we asked if Anna had a cell phone.
“We bought her an iPhone,” Laura said, “so that she could text us and stay in touch if there were any issues with Misty.”
“Can you track her phone?” Olivia asked.
Laura looked at her husband. “I have no idea.”
Ben shrugged, apparently also clueless about the app that allowed someone to track another person’s iPhone.
After Olivia got Anna’s phone number, she used own phone to try and track the phone’s location. After a moment, she said, “It looks like the phone is still on and is in Hollywood, somewhere near the Standard Hotel.”
I took a look at her phone, telling Leo and Al, “I think it’s in an alleyway behind the hotel.”
Leo and Al came over, also examining the phone. Leo said, “Al and I can go take a look.”
Olivia gave him her phone. “Let us know what you find out.”
After they were gone, I said, “Could we take another look at Anna’s bedroom before we leave?”
“Of course,” Laura said, rising.
She led us upstairs and left us alone to go through the room. The bedroom was cluttered, typical of a teenager’s bedroom. The furnishings consisted of a twin bed, a pink dresser, nightstand, and desk.
As we looked through Anna’s belongings, I lowered my voice and said to Olivia, “What do you think?”
She looked at me. “I think the family’s genuinely in a state of shock, and, so far, nothing fits with Anna living an alternative lifestyle.”
“Other than her sneaking out of her room.”
Olivia smiled. “Don’t tell me you never did that?”
I chuckled. “Only about a half-dozen times.”
While Olivia looked through the desk in the corner of the room, I examined the closet. There was a shelf at the top, stacked with pillows and blankets. I felt around on the shelf before finding a folded piece of paper behind the blankets.
I brought it over to the desk and showed it to Olivia. “Not sure what this is.”
Olivia and I studied the paper for a moment. It looked like someone had scribbled on the paper, maybe making doodles, while otherwise preoccupied. I’d decided it was nothing important to our investigation and started to dismiss it.
Olivia then pointed out a word or phrase that appeared to be written in a foreign language at the bottom of the paper. “I think maybe it’s Russian or Ukrainian.” She tried to pronounce the word, but found it impossible, instead spelling it out. “R-р-а з-а-в-е-р-ш-е-н-а.”
“Why don’t you check the Internet, see if you can translate it?” she suggested.
I did as she asked, keying the phrase into Google Translate. When I was finished, I showed her what I’d found and read the phrase aloud, wondering if it just might be Anna Levkin’s epitaph. “Game over.”
FIVE
After finishing up with the Allmans and asking Brook to text me if she got any contact information on Anna’s friends, Olivia and I went back to the station with Bernie. Leo and Al had found Anna’s cell phone in a dumpster behind the Standard Hotel, and brought it with them into the conference room where we all gathered. Our lieutenant, Harry Byrd, was out of the office for the day, but left word he wanted to meet about our case first thing in the morning.
Leo plugged the uncharged phone into an outlet, powered it up, then set it in front of Olivia, along with her personal phone.
“I’ll let you take a look since I’m challenged when it comes to technology,” Leo said, turning the phone in Olivia’s direction. “Luckily, Laura Allman remembered the password was Anna’s birthdate.”
“I can check it out,” Al said, reaching for the phone.
Olivia quickly put her hand on the phone, moving it closer to her. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.” Sh
e used the access code, then took a couple minutes scrolling through the text messages, emails, and call history before telling us what she’d found. “I don’t see much that’s helpful, other than what looks like some calls Anna made to her mother. There’s also a history of texts she made to Laura and a few to Ben, but nothing out of the ordinary. There’s also a couple to her friend, Felicia, so that should help us contact her.”
“I’m still trying to find a translator to do the death notification to Anna’s mother,” Leo said.
“What about Jason, the boy Brook mentioned? I asked, referring to the text and call history.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Anything from last night?” Leo asked. “If she was meeting someone, it stands to reason they would have exchanged texts.”
Olivia shook her head. “It’s pretty strange, but there’s nothing here.”
“She must have used another phone,” Al said. “Probably the one she used to meet her johns so her employers wouldn’t find out.”
Olivia’s brows pinched together. “Why do you keep going back to that? We don’t have anything to show she was prostituting herself.”
Al’s jowls shook, along with his head as he voiced his disapproval. “Let me lay this out for you. Anna Levkin was a young, hot Russian girl. Based on her driver’s license status, we know she was in the country illegally. She met a guy at the Crosby last night and willingly went to a room with him. The coroner established that she had sex...”
“She was sexually assaulted,” Olivia spat.
“Call it whatever you want, but you need to do the math, and it all adds up to prostitution. You also need to face the facts that our innocent little victim was far from innocent.”
“I think the jury’s still out,” I said, trying to defuse things when I saw that Olivia was on the verge of losing it. “Maybe we’ll know something more when we talk to Anna’s friend.”
Al rolled his head to one side, looking at Leo. “Do you believe this?”
Leo stared at him, unblinking. “I believe we do basic police work and follow the facts. So far, there’s nothing factual that shows Anna Levkin was a prostitute.”