Cruel Vintage

by Huston Michaels

  Finally, he gathered himself, taking one more quick look to make sure he hadn’t been hallucinating.

  While he carefully went backwards down the steps, his rational mind asserted itself again, and he knew from the condition of the body and blood that he and Lister had likely been parked across the street, waiting, watching and talking while Dennis Bettencourt had brutalized and killed Megan Sullivan, and that Bettencourt had probably seen Lister window snooping through the little round window in the gable.

  He also knew he now had to go find Arch again and tell him, ‘Hey Arch! Come see! We hit the damn trifecta today!’

  He reached the garage floor and took several deep breaths. He did need to find Arch.

  But before he could move his feet, Carol Soares’s words from earlier today…Had that really been today? It seemed like a lifetime ago…rang in his ears.

  “You’re as bad as he is, you know that, right?”

  He couldn’t move, and the little voice in his head kept saying, ‘she’s right, you know.’

  Instead of going to find Arch, he sat down on the second tread of the steps, put his head in his hands, and tried to fight back the guilt.

  ***

  It was almost 9:00 p.m. when Kaye dragged himself back into the Squad. He was surprised to see the lights still on in the Captain’s office and Thompson at his desk doing paperwork.

  He went and knocked lightly on the door frame. “Captain, I’m back.”

  Thompson looked up, dropped his pen and said, “Come in, come in. Take a load off. You look beat, Detective.”

  Kaye collapsed into his usual chair.

  “Wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight,” Thompson said. “You doing okay?”

  “Had to bring the unit back. I’ve had better days, that’s for sure.”

  “I imagine so. Too bad about Sullivan.”

  “You heard?”

  “Dr. Archuleta called. He’s worried about you.”

  “Why would he worry about me?”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Detective. You did your job, and you did it damn well. Dennis Bettencourt killed her, not you.”

  “Yeah, I just tied her to a stake in the middle of the jungle and walked away.”

  “Not true,” Thompson said forcefully. “She could have refused to go with Feinmann, but she didn’t. Her choice. Your judgment and actions in the Geller case were sound throughout, and your follow-up on Nicole Ingram was nothing short of brilliant police work. You saved a lot of lives today, too, Ben.”

  “And lost one.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. You exposed a major criminal enterprise that was operating right under everybody’s noses and protected a lot of people from future harm. I’m proud of you.”

  “Speaking of victims,” Kaye said, wanting to change the subject, “how’s Mel?”

  “You didn’t go see her?” Thompson asked, a hint of reproach in his voice.

  “I called before I came here. She’d already been released. I don’t even know where she lives.”

  “That she was released should answer your question. She’ll be fine. If she lets her hair grow a little nobody will ever know.”

  Kaye tried to laugh, but it died in his throat.

  “So you’ll close the Geller case on Monday?” Thompson, always the boss concerned about his numbers, asked the leading question.

  “Might as well. Nobody left to prosecute. If I’m here Monday, that is. The shooting…”

  “Already got the call. You and Lister are both cleared. There won’t even be a formal Board. It wasn’t just a good shooting. It was a goddamn public service. The guy was a monster.”

  “That he was,” Kaye agreed, the image of Megan Sullivan burned in his mind and Ruthie Williams’ words dancing across his memory.

  “Go home. Get some rest.”

  “That’s the plan. I’ve got to be in Santa Barbara tomorrow.”

  Thompson studied Kaye. He’d been truthful in court. He and Kaye were not friends. Still…

  “She must really be something. Can’t wait to meet her.”

  “Invite us for a barbecue,” Kaye said, referring to a long-running joke between him and Thompson. “We’ll be there.”

  “You’re on.”

  Kaye smiled and stood up.

  “Thanks, Captain.”

  “For?”

  “Being here. I appreciate it.”

  Thompson half-smiled and picked up his pen. “Okay, beat it. I still have work to do.”

  Kaye pushed through the Squad doors and headed for the Harley and home.

  LAST DAY

  Monday Week 5

  The morning was devoted to finishing the reports and officially closing the case. Kaye made sure that the case heading in the system now read Ingram/Geller instead of just Geller.

  He’d called the Ingrams the night before, figuring he had a better chance to reach them on a Sunday evening. He told them what had happened to Nicole those months ago, and he told them he had identified and found the man who had killed Nicole, why, and that it was the Storm Chase that had been on the list of Nicole’s friends.

  “He won’t get bail, I hope,” was the first thing Bradley Ingram said. “I’d like to attend the trial, whenever that is.”

  “There won’t be a trial, Mr. Ingram. He didn’t go to jail. He went to the morgue,” Kaye said. “My partner and I had to shoot him when he tried to shoot us.”

  “Can’t say I’m disappointed,” Ingram said. “Thank you, Detective Kaye.”

  He called Mark Edler and gave him enough information to satisfy the firefighter’s curiosity, again thanking the kid for being persistent.

  He also called Anthony at the Ferrari dealer and explained that while he had no forensic evidence there had been a bomb in Howell’s car, the overall circumstances of the case, including that his truck had been blown up during the investigation, certainly supported it. Anthony was grateful for Kaye’s call and promised to relay the information to the engineers in Italy.

  ***

  Just after lunch, Kaye rolled up to the Century City high rise and parked the Flight Red ’41 Knucklehead on the sidewalk.

  The media was long gone. Less than a month had passed. Hollywood is a fickle town.

  He grabbed the package from the saddlebag and headed up.

  The offices of AZG Productions were still all about glitz and glamour, but a large portrait of Aviram Geller, Founder, now hung prominently in the lobby.

  “How can I help you?” the new receptionist asked, not recognizing him.

  “Ben Kaye,” he replied. “I’m here to see Mr. Geller.”

  She picked up the phone and called back to announce him, hung up, smiled and said, “You can go back Mr. Kaye. They’re expecting you. Mr. Geller’s office is –”

  “I know the way.”

  She smiled again and nodded encouragement. “Good luck.”

  Sam Geller greeted Kaye at his office door.

  “Detective Kaye, how nice to see you. Come in, come in. You know my mother, right?” Sam waved him in and pointed him to a chair.

  “I do,” Kaye said. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Geller.”

  Ziva Geller smiled and nodded.

  When they were settled in and done with the chit chat, Sam steered the conversation to business.

  “I must say, Detective, I was surprised to get your call asking for a meeting. I thought the case was closed.”

  “It is,” Kaye acknowledged. “This is business of a more personal nature.”

  “Really?” Sam said. “What can we do for you?”

  “Actually, it’s what I can do for you,” Kaye said, looking at Ziva Geller. “I owe you a favor, and –”

  “Two,” Ziva interrupted, smiling slightly. “You owe me two favors.”

  “Well, however many I owe you, I’m here to pay you back in full.” Kaye lifted the package and put it on Sam’s desk.

  “What’s that?” Sam asked.

  “Nicole Ingram’s screenplay,” Kaye replied.
“I got it from one of her neighbors during the investigation. You need to read it.”

  “You mean you want me to make a movie out of it?” Sam asked.

  “Only if you think it’s worth your time and money.”

  “Have you read it?” Ziva asked.

  “I have,” Kaye said. “I’m certainly no judge of screenwriting talent, but I know somebody who is, and she thinks it’s worth a look. She called it Nicole’s treasure.”

  “I do have a question,” Ziva said.

  “What’s that?” Kaye asked.

  “Did you ever find out if it was Les that this young lady went to Santa Barbara to see? I’d like to think he had nothing to do with her kidnapping.”

  “When I talked to him the day he died, he swore to me he had nothing to do with that,” Kaye said. “It wasn’t in the part of his statement I was able to recover, but everything else he told me checked out. I believe him.”

  “Good to know,” Ziva said somberly. “Thank you.”

  “I can’t promise anything on the screenplay,” Sam said.

  “I’m not looking for a promise,” Kaye said. “Just an objective evaluation. I think the Ingrams deserve that.”

  “I can do that, I guess,” Sam said, glancing at his mother. “I’ll let you know.”

  “You don’t need to let me know,” Kaye said. “In fact, I’d prefer the Ingrams not know you got it from me. Give the credit to your dad. He died trying to help their daughter.”

  “I’ll read it,” Ziva spoke up, reaching out and putting her hand on the bundle. “Papa told me about this girl.” She turned to Kaye. “Thank you. We’re even.”

  “What do I tell the Ingrams?” Sam asked.

  “Sam, this is Hollywood,” Kaye said, smiling as he stood up. “Land of make believe. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

  The ’41 Flight Red Knucklehead was right where he’d left it.

  It was about two hours to Santa Barbara. He was excited. Auggie hadn’t seen the ’41 yet.

  Read the other exciting Ben Kaye Cases!

  The Bilbao Gambit

  The Kunduz Payback

  The Trait

  And watch for the next Ben Kaye Case mystery/thriller

  SHATTERED

  Coming late 2020 or early 2021

  Ceteris paribus…