Unpaid Dues

by Barbara Seranella

  "He won't come after me. I've got friends in high places. Thor only goes after the ones who don't have a chance."

  "You want me to drive you home?"

  "I want you to leave me alone. I want to never have to see you again. I wish I had never met you."

  "I don't."

  "Don't you have a rosary to go say or something?"

  He left. Munch buried her face in her hands, wishing she could cry. Time passed. She stared at the wall, too busy with her own thoughts to need a magazine or a television or another person's company There was a small knock at the door and then it opened.

  "You ready?" St. John asked.

  "Any word?"

  "Not yet. We're broadcasting a bulletin on the eleven o'clock news and his picture will run in tomorrow's paper. We'll get him."

  She almost felt sorry for Thor, then caught herself. He didn't deserve her sympathy What a chump she was. No wonder Rico didn't love her.

  "Say something," St. John said.

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. Call me an idiot."

  "I'm the idiot."

  He sighed deeply and sat down next to her. "You see but you don't see, you hear but you don't hear." He placed a small porcelain pig in a blue police uniform on the table in front of her. "See that? This could be the most important thing in your life right now. Six months from now"—he moved the prop for his metaphor away out of her sight—"it won't mean shit. Something else will be there. My dad taught me that."

  She looked at him. Her eyes felt like they would never blink again. "Six months?"

  "Sometimes a year."

  "I can do that standing on my head."

  "That's the spirit. C'mon, let's blow this joint."

  She followed him out to his car. It was a clear night. The moon was a thumbnail in the western sky St. John toggled the automatic lock switch. She waited for the click and then opened her door. He started the engine. "How's the investigation going otherwise?" she asked.

  He cracked a smile.

  "I know you talked to a contractor guy."

  "We've talked to a lot of people."

  "You wouldn't forget Big Mike."

  "What about him?"

  "He said you were asking questions the other day wanted him to give up all his workers."

  "We have a piece of evidence connected to Jane's murder that we've linked back to one of his work sites." "Was Thor working there?"

  "Not according to the manifest, but that doesn't mean a whole lot. I doubt he knows the true names of half his workers. Guys who work construction are a transient bunch. Lots of cash paid under the table."

  "Especially to the lower-skilled guys doing the grunt work."

  "Exactly" St. John adjusted the heater controls.

  "Were you planning on going to work tomorrow?"

  "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I guess I'll see how I feel in the morning."

  "You won't be alone. Bring an extra uniform to work. We'll send in a policewoman to take your place and put a trap on your phone line in case he tries to contact you."

  She looked out the window. "What do you think he's doing right now?"

  "Probably curled up in a hole somewhere. You were talking about McCarthy right?"

  "Yeah." She searched the night sky for constellations she recognized. "Do you think he's thinking about me too?"

  "I'm sure of it." He pulled on the headlights.

  She poked at the swelling around her nose, wincing as she explored the extent of the damage. "What else do you have?"

  "You know I can't really discuss the details of an ongoing investigation."

  "I'm not going to tell anyone. Besides, I'm part of the team now, right? Just tell me if you have anything else that ties Jane's murder to Thor."

  "There was skin under her fingernails that we believe she scraped off her assailant. The lab says it had tattoo ink in it and we've got a blood type."

  "I'm glad she got a piece of him."

  "I'll be gladder when we have all of him."

  Chapter 25

  Munch called home from the St. Johns'. The answering machine clicked on and she spoke to the recorder, telling Nathan to pick up. He sounded groggy

  "You okay?" she asked.

  "Yeah, I just fell asleep in front of the TV. What's going on?"

  "You need to go over to your grandma's house."

  "You want me out?"

  "It may not be safe. Remember I told you about New York Jane getting killed?"

  "Yeah."

  "I think Thor did it and he might be after me."

  "Shit."

  "Yeah, exactly We won't be coming home tonight and I don't want you there by yourself."

  "Does he know where you live?"

  "He could look it up in the phone book."

  "Let him come. I'm not afraid of that mother-fucker."

  "This isn't about being afraid. The police have offered to come over and escort you."

  "Don't set the pigs on me."

  "Nathan, I'm not going to argue with you. I'm telling you to get out of my house and go to your grandma's. I'll call you tomorrow."

  Munch and Asia spent the night at the St. Johns'.

  The next morning, Caroline took Asia to school. Munch drove alone to her house to change and to pick up an extra uniform. Cassiletti followed her at a discreet distance in an unmarked police car. Nathan had taken his duffel bag with him and that saddened her. He probably felt abandoned one more time. When this was over, she was going to have a whole new list of people to whom she owed amends.

  St. Iolm told her to carry on at work as if it were a normal day.

  Yeah, right.

  She parked her car near the bathrooms. The uniform she'd brought for the policewoman decoy was tucked under her arm. She'd folded it carefully and packed it in a brown supermarket bag. Now she carried it in what she hoped was a casual manner as she walked into Lou's office. The first thing she did every morning was go over the repair orders that had been paid the day before and make sure each mechanic was properly credited for his or her work. She and Lou also used this time to drink their morning coffee together and make small talk before the day began.

  Lou was bent over his desk, going over the gas books. The guys at night read the meters on the pumps before closing. Lou double-checked the numbers in the morning, making sure that no gas "evaporated" over-night.

  "Good morning," she said, then noticed the chinless woman with blue eyeliner and light brown hair standing in the corner. She directed a nod her way

  "You must be Miranda," the woman said. "I'm Officer Halliwell. "

  Munch handed her the uniform, noting their six-inch height difference. "Call me Munch. The pants might be a little short on you. "

  "I got your coffee here," Lou said, turning in his chair. "Holy shit, what happened to you?"

  "Looks worse than it is," she assured him.

  She grabbed her coffee and a stack of work orders. Lou returned to his computations with a scowl on his face.

  "I'm going to stick the tanks," he said. "Stay here. Jesus. I can't believe this."

  "Business as usual," Munch said.

  Lou left the office muttering obscenities. Munch watched him lift the small manhole covers that protected the underground tank caps and insert one of two long wooden dowels he used like a dipstick. The longer stick was notched to measure up to ten thousand gallons and was used for the three tanks that held the grades of gasoline. The smaller stick was for the five-thousand-gallon diesel depository. It was a primitive but effective method to determine how much gas they had remaining underground.

  "He's cool," she told the cop. "And he'll be nicer after his third cup of coffee."

  Halliwell just nodded and continued standing there as if she were on full military parade. Munch wondered if one of the gas-level measuring tools or something like it had found its way up one of the woman's orifices.

  Lou returned to the office. Gas orders were placed forty-eight hours in advance, and though norm
ally the calculations involved to figure the order weren't exactly rocket science, this morning Lou seemed to be using the eraser more than the lead of his pencil.

  "Just forget I'm here," Officer Halliwell said.

  Munch sat at the corner counter that served as her desk. "Is that Chevy van on the corner part of the operation?"

  "Don't draw attention to it."

  "We're not idiots," Lou said.

  "I wasn't suggesting that you were, sir."

  Munch punched some numbers into the calculator.

  "Kids, don't make me stop this car."

  Halliwell cracked a grin and Munch felt like she'd made progress. "Seriously I appreciate that you're here. I'm still not sure it's necessary but I know you're willing to risk personal danger."

  "Where can I change?"

  "Use the storage room to your right. The light switch is by the door."

  Halliwell was just barely out of earshot when Lou muttered, "So where was she last night?"

  "I was the only one who could go in and talk to Thor. It wasn't anybody's fault that it went bad. Thor is an animal."

  "Exactly my point. What was your boyfriend thinking?"

  "It was my decision. I'd do it again."

  "If that guy shows up here, we'1l take care of him."

  Lou opened the bottom drawer of his file cabinet pulled out a sawed-off baseball bat. "He'll rue the day he was born."

  "Rue the day?"

  "You heard me."

  "Drink your coffee, you big lug."

  She finished her paperwork and went out to the repair bay.

  The police audio tech, Tam Spiva, was wearing a telephone repairman uniform and stationed in the supply room next to the telephone junction box.

  Opening her toolbox, she spoke to him, feeling as if she were in some James Bond flick. "Do I need to keep him talking for any length of time?"

  "Depends how far away he's calling from and how many switching stations are involved."

  "In the movies they always need like three minutes."

  "That's the movies. If he's local, five seconds will do it."

  At nine, Munch was deeply involved in the wiring of a Corvette's steering column when she was paged for a call. She was glad for the break. The car's steering wheel telescoped as well as tilted and was fighting her all the way Carlos handed her the phone, so she double-checked that he had put the call on hold and that she still wasn't on loudspeaker. She and Carlos had pulled that prank on each other in the past. When the unsuspecting victim said "Hello" into the phone, the voice was broadcast across the shop. The amplified words that followed were invariably

  "Oh, shit. "

  Carlos walked away disappointed when Munch pushed the button to open the line, but she heard only a dial tone when she put the phone to her ear.

  "Who was it?" .

  Carlos shrugged. "I don' know. Some guy"

  The phone rang again. She gave Spiva the high sign and he acknowledged that he was ready She picked up the receiver.

  "Bel Air Texaco, this is Munch."

  "How could you do this to me?"

  Her pulse accelerated, but not so much as to cloud her mind. She lifted a thumb in the air. Spiva activated his gear.

  "You see yourself as the victim here?" she asked.

  "You've ruined my life. "

  "I ruined your life?"

  "Are they listening now?"

  "What do you think?"

  "I think you're a bitch. You're only so holy rolly cuz you went to the cops first. That doesn't make you clean. We've all done shit in our past."

  "I'm not talking about ripping off hippies for their weed money or rolling drunks. Shit in our past? What are you talking past? Jane died last week."

  "ls that what they told you? That I had something to do with that? I was locked down. Ask Danny T. I've been with someone from New Start every minute of every day for the last month. When would I have had time to hurt Jane?"

  "So turn yourself in."

  "Yeah, right. You fucked that up for me." He wheezed into the phone.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "I can get around. You'll see me again. Bet on it."

  He hung up.

  She turned to Spiva. "Did you get it?"

  He was already on his radio. "Yes. You did great."

  He toggled off and clipped his Handie-Talkie to his tool belt. "We've got the number he was calling from. Now all we need to do is look it up in a reverse directory. If the number he called from is listed, we'll have him.!

  "It's not brain surgery right?"

  "What do you think brain surgeons say in these situations?"

  "It's not auto mechanics."

  "You might be right."

  Before he could ask about anything else she said, "We get lots of doctors in here."

  "Not surprising."

  "Yeah," she said, "they come in two forms: the cheap ones who question everything, especially the bill, and the nice ones who give you the green light, pay any price, just as long as it's fixed."

  "How are cops?"

  "As customers?"

  Spiva nodded.

  "I don't get many as customers in Brentwood."

  "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't."

  "What's your take about what Thor said about having an alibi for Jane's murder?"

  "I don't know that much about the case. You think he was telling the truth?"

  "Felt like it. What do you think?"

  Spiva unrolled some wire from a cardboard spool and cut off a foot of it. "Hard to say. It might be true or he might have talked himself into believing it was true. It's not for me to sort out."

  She watched him strip an inch of insulation from one end of the wire. "You gonna stick around?"

  "Until I get orders otherwise. "

  "Is Mace St. John coming by later? Did he say?"

  "You want me to call him?"

  "No, don't bother him. I'm sure he's busy catching bad guys."

  Spiva's handset rang and he lifted it to his mouth.

  "Go ahead." He listened for a moment and then said, "Good. Ten four."

  "What?" she asked.

  "We got it."

  "Where is he?"

  "Santa Monica."

  "Where in Santa Monica?" She didn't need him to answer. She knew the words that were coming and recited the address.

  He looked at her surprised more than suspicious.

  "How did you know?"

  "That's my house."

  * * *

  St. John was not at the police station. Early that morning he had gotten a call from Janet Moriarity the director of Shelter from the Storm.

  "I've heard from Stacy" she said, "and she's agreed to speak to you."

  He almost fell off his chair. "When? Where?"

  "She's in my office now."

  "I'm on my way"

  Twenty minutes later he was introduced to a tall blonde with a slightly crooked nose and a gentle smile. When it was clear that Ms. Moriarity had no intention of leaving the room, he began his interview.

  "Miss Lansford, I read the letter that you wrote to Judge Helmer about Cyrill McCarthy"

  "Detective Yanney asked me to do that. I was angry at Thor then."

  "Yes, it was a good letter. We're very close to indicting Mr. McCarthy for murder. Would you be willing to testify?"

  "Do you really need me?" She looked at Janet Moriarity for support.

  "It would help put him away;" the older woman said. "Isn't that what we want?"

  "I know he did some bad things, but that was a long time ago. I don't want him to go to jail forever. He might, right?" This time she looked at St. John.

  "The man is a felon. He's hurt a lot of people."

  "He is the father of my child. I mean, I don't hate the guy"

  St. John looked down at his notebook and wondered what Ms. Moriarity thought of this. He clicked his pen open. "Who's your dentist?"

  "Dr. Wassenmiller."

  "And you had some surgery as I remember. How many sc
ars do you have?"

  She lifted her chin. "I have two on my stomach."

  "Birthmarks, tattoos?"

  "Why are you asking me all this?"

  "In case we need to identify your body sometime. If we don't find it right away and decomposition has set in, it makes our job just that much more difficult."

  Stacy Lansford's mouth opened in shock, but when he risked a glance at Janet Moriarity damned if she wasn't wearing the ghost of a smile.

  A knock on the door interrupted the moment.

  "Mace?" Cassiletti said. "We need to go." His eyes strayed to Stacy Lansford and he blinked as if struck by something. "I'm sorry to interrupt"

  Stacy stared back. "You're just doing your job, I'm sure."

  Janet Moriarity walked St. John to his car. "I'll work on her. You did good."

  He felt better than he had in the last twelve hours.

  "That was Stacy Lansford?" Cassiletti asked once they were in the car. "I didn't expect her to be so beautiful."

  "I didn't see a wedding ring," St. John said.

  "Neither did I," Cassiletti said without blushing.

  St. John smiled. Maybe they'd hook Cassiletti up yet.

  Chapter 26

  The Chevy van Munch had noticed earlier pulled up in front of the office. Spiva and Officer Halliwell, who was now wearing Munch's blue Texaco uniform, climbed inside.

  The driver said, "St. John is meeting us there."

  "What do you want me to do?" Munch asked.

  "We'll keep a unit here," Halliwell said. "Just sit tight."

  Munch returned to the Corvette. She tried to lose herself in the job, but her thoughts were in turmoil. She went back to her toolbox for a pair of vise grips. The ratty purse she carried to work gaped open and she saw Roxanne's folded phone bill. She pulled it free and went to the phone.

  Doleen Franklin, Nathan's grandma, answered on the third ring.

  "Hi. It's Munch. Is Nathan there or has he gone to work?"

  "He said he had some stuff to do and he'd be to work later."

  "I was really hoping to talk to him. I didn't want him to think I was kicking him out."

  "He said you had yo'self some trouble. "

  "Did he seem upset?"

  "No, he's fine. We called his mama. She's over there in the Neverlands."

  Munch smiled to herself. Close enough. "Yeah, I know. Nathan thinks she might send for him."