“No. it’s really been quiet around here for a change.”
“If he does and it’s something urgent, get me off the bench,” she told him as she walked out the door to return to the courtroom.
“No problem,” he said, picking up the paper plates. “If the man calls, I’ll get you right away.”
No more than two feet from the door to her chamber, Lara ran into Irene Murdock. Right in the same corridor, walking in her direction, was Leo Evergreen.
“Lara,” Irene said, “I was just coming to see you. Can you talk a few minutes?”
Lara glanced at Leo. He was headed her way, but his head was down. She didn’t want to see him. “Gosh, Irene, I have to be back in court right now. How about later? Call me later.” Lara was already walking off when Irene called out to her.
“Can I borrow Phillip a few minutes? My secretary is out ill and I need some things typed.”
“Sure,” Lara said, entering through the rear door to the courtroom. She quickly climbed the three steps and the bailiff spoke: “All rise.”
The afternoon session commenced.
Lara listened to the defense attorney asking the same questions for the twentieth time that day. “Do you have children? Has any one of them ever been injured? How did you feel about that? How would you feel if someone removed your children and placed them in a foster home? How would you feel if they were sexually abused in a foster home?” On and on it went. Then at the end of the day, after the last potential juror had been interrogated, the district attorney pitched a fit over a discovery motion that he’d filed and the defense had not answered.
“Mr. Steinfield over here is attempting to withhold evidence in this case,” the district attorney barked. “That motion was filed three weeks ago.”
Lara looked sternly at the defense attorney. “Mr. Steinfield, have you responded to the people’s motion?”
“No, Your Honor, I haven’t. For the past two months I’ve been in trial on another matter. The psychological evaluation is complete, but the psychologist hasn’t mailed me the report yet. He promised it would be in my office by the end of the day.”
The district attorney sprang to his feet. “This is a contrived plan to buy time and undermine the prosecution,” he said. “Mr. Steinfield should be found in contempt for failing to comply with a court order.”
Lara glared at the D.A. “I’ll decide if someone is in contempt.” Her gaze turned to the defense attorney. “Mr. Steinfield, you have until tomorrow at three o’clock to comply with the terms of the discovery motion.” She tapped the gavel lightly and looked out over the courtroom. “This court’s adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Good evening, gentlemen.”
Rickerson had finally called, but when she called him back, they informed her that he was out again. It was late; Phillip had already left. As Lara was rushing out the door to get Josh, she ran right into the detective.
“We’ve got to quit meeting like this,” he said, giving her a big smile. Then the smile vanished. “We have to talk.”
She spun around and was headed back inside her chambers when he seized her arm. “Not in there. Evergreen might have a listening device. He’s the big boss. Richard Nixon did, so…”
Lara rolled her eyes. ‘That’s ridiculous. Where do you want to go?”
“How about your court? No one’s in there, are they?”
“No, but…” He kept staring at her and she gave in. “Follow me.”
Walking quickly, she entered again through the judge’s door and they took seats in the back of the court, Rickerson tossing his long legs over one of the seats. Lara just stared out over the room. Courtrooms used to be full of wood paneling and had tile or wood flooring so the voices echoed. They also had windows, fans, and no air conditioning. Defendants would sweat, she thought, really sweat, the way they should sweat when they stood in a room like this, in front of a judge and jury. When she was a teenager, she used to ride the bus to the courthouse during summer vacations and imagine she was one of the attorneys, even going so far as to imagine she was the judge. This courtroom had bright blue upholstery on the seats, pale mauve carpeting, and the windowless space was climate-controlled. Judges didn’t need booming voices that would carry; they had microphones. Lara really liked it better the old way. This way was too efficient, too pretty, too neat. In her eyes, justice had become too modern. It was losing the flavor.
This was her domain, her little kingdom, she told herself, glancing at the American flag by the bench. She didn’t want to lose it if she was tossed off the bench for impropriety. She’d lost enough as it was.
“Wait until you hear what I learned today,” she said, her voice echoing in the large, empty space. Rickerson had been sitting there quietly, deep in his own thoughts. “Phillip is a Big Brother.”
“You mean the organization that helps kids?”
“Yes,” she said loudly, emphasizing the word. “Now do you think we should consider him a suspect?”
“I’m ahead of you, Lara. I got his personnel jacket today. He has no criminal history, but that’s not surprising. He lives with his mother in Costa Mesa, not far from where you are staying at the condo.”
“His mother? He never mentioned living with his mother.”
“He never mentioned being a Big Brother before either. Maybe he just manufactured that to get his hands on Josh.”
“Why Josh?”
“Josh might know more than you think.”
“Believe me, Phillip won’t get within a mile of that kid. Not now. What about the money, the loans?”
Rickerson frowned. “Takes time—oh, I went to the D.A. today. Not too promising.”
“Who’d you see? Did you go to the top, to Meyer?” Lawrence Meyer was the actual District Attorney of Orange County. Everyone else were assistant district attorneys who worked under his supervision.
“Yep. He’s an asshole.”
Lara turned to him. According to Rickerson, everyone was either a child molester or an asshole. And these were the people who controlled the criminal justice system in Orange County. “I never encountered any problems with him when I was working there. He’s an outstanding prosecutor, an excellent supervisor. His record is impeccable.”
“Told me I was out of my fucking mind about Evergreen. When I persisted, he threatened to have me removed from his office.”
“Great,” Lara said, cutting her eyes to the detective. “You shouldn’t have gone to him. I told you it was premature. You didn’t mention me, did you?”
Rickerson took his legs off the back of the seat. “No, but he did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Here’s what he said, practically verbatim, okay? Lara Sanderstone released Packard Cummings. We argued against it, meaning whatever D.A. was in court that day. She was using judicial influence and privilege to cover her brother’s—” Rickerson stopped and looked at Lara. “He thought Perkins was your real brother. Anyway, he went on to say that the next day after Cummings’s release, he killed someone and you were to blame. He said we should investigate your activities instead of Evergreen’s if we wanted to investigate someone.”
“That slimy bastard,” Lara spat. “I can’t believe he said that. Did he think I released Cummings so he could murder my own sister? That’s horrible, that’s vile.”
“Told you he was an asshole.”
“Now what?”
“We need to wait for the lab reports, something linking Cummings to the homicides. I’m pushing them, but they can only move so fast. They’re completely buried.”
Lara stood and climbed over Rickerson’s long legs, pacing in the aisle. “So, that’s it?” Her arms dropped by her sides and she stopped short.
“Weil, we have the appointment book. It’s pretty interesting.”
“How? Tell me. And Ted, I have to pick up Josh, so make it fast.” Lara glanced at her watch. As soon as they moved back to the house in Irvine, Lara was going to look into changing Josh’s school. She certainly couldn’t keep u
p this frantic pace, driving him back and forth every single day.
“Everyone uses their own shorthand or code in books like that, even people who aren’t prostitutes. Whatever kind of system your sister used, however, is pretty cryptic, no real rhyme or reason. But she had regular customers, which is something to go on. There’s a client booked for every Wednesday afternoon. She penciled in the letters LS in his time slot. There’s another appointment scheduled for the evening hours of July seventh, the night she came to your apartment. That was also a Wednesday, for whatever that matters. This man is penciled in as LW. After that date the book just stops.”
“Really?” she said. “Well, the LW could stand for Leo something. He might have used his real first name and a phony last name.”
“I already thought of that, but then what does the LS stand for? I was told by an expert that LS meant that the trick likes sex, and LW that he likes whips. What do you think?”
Lara just shrugged her shoulders.
“I guess once they started extorting money, Ivory stopped turning tricks. The book just stops after the night she came to your house back in July. Also, a lot of her appointments were scheduled around the seventh, eighth, and ninth every month. I have no idea what that means.”
“Probably because the house payment was due,” Lara said. “That’s when she always used to hit me up for money. Someday I’ll let you see my checkbook. Sam must have pushed her to ply her trade around then.” Particularly after she had quit giving them money, Lara thought, cupping her hand over her mouth. If she hadn’t cut them off, they might both still be alive.
“Well, I talked to another hooker who worked with her. She’s my expert. Maybe they all used the same shorthand.”
Lara looked up. “Another prostitute? Ivory was working with another prostitute? What did she tell you?”
“Not much. Just that she had one regular client that might have been a student of some kind.”
“Phillip’s a student,” Lara shot out. She stopped and they exchanged penetrating glances. Rickerson already knew that fact. “I need to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Are you absolutely certain Josh wasn’t in any of those photographs?”
Rickerson stood, stepping close to Lara. He turned sideways and his jacket brushed against her. They both leaned back against the railing. “What makes you ask?”
“Just a thought, that’s all. I know he’s been abused. I just don’t know how.” This had been dancing in Lara’s head ever since the day with Josh and the discussion of the bloody T-shirt. She’d held back on bringing it up to him again, but it was troubling her. He had said whatever happened was embarrassing. Lara kept thinking that he could have been involved with this child molester, even sodomized or injured in some way. Eventually she knew she had to confront Josh.
The detective leaned even closer to Lara. She knew he did it on purpose. They were now shoulder to shoulder, and she was having trouble focusing on the conversation. All she could see was the slender gold band on his left hand.
“There’s a slim possibility that Josh could have been the photographer, the one taking the pictures, but I personally doubt it. Because I’m convinced your sister stole the pictures, I don’t really see how the boy could have been involved.”
Lara pulled away and started to leave. Rickerson walked up to her and put two strong arms on her own. “We’re gonna get this bastard,” he said. Then he ran his finger down her nose and touched her lips. Before she could say anything, he had turned and walked off, exiting through the front of the courtroom.
That one touch of his finger to her lips had left her almost panting. It was like a kiss—a delicate, fleeting kiss.
Lara headed back down the corridor leading to her office and the judges’ elevator. The building was quiet now, almost empty. She walked fast. Josh was waiting.
She punched the button on the elevator and the door opened. Lara gasped and stepped back a few feet in a state of shock.
“Lara,” the man inside said, “My, you’re working late.”
For a few minutes she just stood there, uncertain what she should do, perspiration popping out on her brow and upper lip. Then she stepped inside the elevator with Judge Leo Evergreen and the mechanical doors shut.
“Yes, I am, Leo,” Lara said. “You know, the Adams case…” She felt herself trembling and willed herself to remain calm. She couldn’t stop herself from staring, however. He was wearing a black trench coat and carrying an expensive leather briefcase. He looked awful. His normally plump cheeks were caved in, and there were dark circles under his eyes. “Are you feeling better?”
As if she had given him a cue, Evergreen started coughing, removing a white handkerchief from his pocket and covering his mouth. “Not really, to tell you the truth. This flu is a nasty one. You better drink a lot of fluids and stay warm. This one can really put you down.”
Right, Lara thought bitterly just as the doors opened and Evergreen shuffled off. He might know a lot of things that could put a person down. Someone had certainly put Ivory down. Right now she was six feet under. She jerked her head back around and watched him walk across the concrete garage floor. This man didn’t limp. He was old and he walked slowly, with almost a stilted, stumbling gait.
But as far as she could tell, Judge Leo Evergreen did not have a recognizable limp.
Chapter 19
The evening traffic leading into downtown Los Angeles was almost at a standstill, the sky blanketed with smog. Rickerson had stopped after he left Lara and purchased a hot dog and a Coke to eat in the car.
“Dinner,” he said, disgusted, shoving the hot dog in his mouth and consuming it in two bites. Then he guzzled the Coke and tossed the paper cup over his shoulder into the backseat. He was meeting Dr. Gail Stewart at the crime lab. One of these days, he thought, he was going to actually have to deliver on all those steak dinners, movie passes, and long-stemmed red roses that he was always promising. But not today.
“Okay,” she said, “sit your ass down in the chair and let’s get going. Have you had dinner?”
“Yes,” he said. ‘Tn the car.”
“Lucky boy. I’m starving. Let’s get this over with so I can go home.”
She killed the lights and flicked on the slide projector. “Here’s what you’ve got: The man in the small photograph with the woman is the same man in the picture you had sent over yesterday. See, watch how their features match perfectly when we superimpose the two images. Of course, he’s holding his head at a different angle in this photo, so we had to recreate, but there’s no doubt that this is the same man. Who is he?”
“Evergreen’s son.”
“Hot damn, buddy, you’re on a roll now. Evergreen’s the man in the photo?”
“From all appearance, he has to be. That’s his son.”
Dr. Stewart took a seat next to him, reaching a chubby arm behind her to a drawer. “Here,” she said. “Dessert.” She tossed him a candy bar and started eating one herself while she spoke. “If you don’t eat dinner, you can eat all the candy you want and never gain a pound.”
“What kind of diet is that?” Rickerson asked, placing the candy bar in his pocket.
“The candy diet, of course. I just invented it.” Once she had finished the candy and tossed the wrapper away, her face became serious again. “The man doesn’t have to be the boy’s father, you know. It could be a family friend, neighbor, anything. Just because these photographs were taken in someone’s home doesn’t mean anything.”
Rickerson grimaced. “It’s Evergreen. Believe me, I’ve never felt so strongly about anything in my life. It all fits, Gail, and every day it fits a little tighter.”
“Did you bring me a tape of him walking?”
“Nah. not yet.” He twirled the hairs in his mustache. “I guess I could get one, though, maybe coming out of the building or something. Look, Gail, are you certain that this disease or whatever it is would make him limp? Judge Sanderstone doesn’t recall him havin
g a limp like that. She claims he has a distinctive walk, but no limp.”
Gail bristled slightly. She didn’t like people to question her theories. She’d put a lot of hard work into that computer profile. “I told you the man in that photograph limps. I guess he could have had surgery. There’s a new procedure where they insert a steel rod and straighten the spine. Anything is possible.”
Rickerson was thinking of how he could get a film of Evergreen walking. The problem was, Evergreen didn’t come out of the building. To tape him, they’d have to get Lara to let a cameraman hide in the underground garage where the judges parked.
Dr. Stewart continued: “What I really need is a naked shot of him from the back. Then we’d really give you something to take to the bank. We could confirm that spinal curvature, and you’d know without a doubt that he was the man in the photographs. And if he did have surgery, we’d see the scar.”
“Sure,” the detective said, standing and shoving the small metal chair back to the desk. “Just walk up to him and ask him to take off his clothes and pose for the camera. Give me a break, here, Gail. That’s pretty stupid.”
She leaned forward in the chair and stared at him. “Cops,” she said. “Nothing but dummies.” Then she flopped back. “Bet he works out at a health club or something. You know, plays golf, squash, gets massages, swims. You try hard enough, you can get a picture of about anyone naked. All you have to do is hang around in locker rooms. Everyone in this state goes to some kind of club. Californians are fitness crazy.” She stopped and smiled. ‘That is, everyone but me. Dentist says I have rotten teeth. I want to die before they all fall out.”
“Good idea,” Rickerson said, shuffling to the door, deep in thought, her humor sliding right past him.
“And another thing…” she shouted when he was out in the hall.
Instead of returning to the room, Rickerson merely stepped up close to the window, his breath smoking circles on the glass. “Yeah?” he said.
Dr. Stewart walked over to the glass, her voice elevated so he could hear. “Find the son. Bet he molested him too. They usually do.”
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