He had Nora’s arms bent behind her back and she’d switched from crying to cursing. She swore louder as I bound her wrists, tried to head-butt Milo’s arm. By the time he managed to drag her across the barn from the Caddy and get her in the passenger seat of a white ’55 Thunderbird, she’d gone mute.
He said, “Fun, fun, fun, when Milo takes it away,” and belted her in, too.
The two of us stood there. Panting. His face was sweaty and I felt moisture trickle down the side of my head. My ribs hurt. The back of my neck felt as if I’d encountered a blunt guillotine.
Milo used his phone.
The sirens began as distant moans, enlarged to nuclear trombone slides.
I was working hard at not thinking and the noise was sweet music.
Eight sheriff’s squad cars, strobe-fest of blinking lights.
Milo had his badge out right away.
A slit-eyed, sunburned sergeant in body-conscious tans got out of the lead car.
“LAPD,” said Milo.
“Keep your hands where I can see ’em.”
Multiple weapons trained on us. We complied. The sergeant swaggered toward us with that mixture of fear and aggression cops display when they’re faced with uncertainty. His mustache was orange and bristly, big enough to nest hummingbirds. M. Pedersohn on his tag. Tight neck muscles. A squint at the small print on Milo’s shield didn’t warm the atmosphere.
Freckled hands slapped on tan hips. “Okay...you came up here for what?”
“Job-related,” said Milo. “Lemme show you— ”
“The dispatcher said something about a body,” said Pedersohn.
“That’s partially accurate,” said Milo.
“What?”
Milo motioned round the south side of the barn. Pedersohn stood in place, showing his men he couldn’t be bossed around. Milo disappeared from view. Pedersohn went after him.
* * *
A peek inside the hatch turned the sergeant’s sunburn to chalk.
“Jesus...” He grabbed his mustache, rubbed his teeth with the side of his index finger. “Is that...”
“It ain’t plastic,” said Milo.
“Jesus...oh, man...how long’s it been there?”
“One question of many rearing their nasty little heads, Sarge. Have you called your lab guys?”
“Um...not yet...” Another look down. “Our downtown guys are obviously going to need to deal with this.”
“Then you should call them, too.”
Pedersohn yanked his radio off his belt. Stopped. Squinted. “Where are the suspects?”
“Pretending to be taking a road trip.”
“What?” said Pedersohn.
Milo walked away from him again.
Pedersohn looked at me.
I said, “Multiple murder makes him cranky.”
* * *
A deputy coroner named Al Morden who lived in the Palisades was called to the scene. He descended the stairs, looked at the head, refused to go farther until the shelter was declared safe.
Lots of who-me? looks from the deputies. Sergeant Mitchell Pedersohn said, “Our downtown guys should be here soon.”
Milo said, “My offer vis-à-vis the lunch box stands, Alex.”
Pedersohn said, “What?”
Milo climbed down in the hole.
* * *
He was back moments later. “Look, Ma, no booby traps.”
“What’s down there?” Pedersohn demanded.
“Three separate shelters linked by tunnels. Think of it as your basic paranoid triplex. One of them’s got women’s clothes and toiletries and a comfy bed, pictures of our suspects on the walls, kinda homey. The others aren’t homey at all.”
“I meant in terms of evidence.”
“That’s kinda complicated,” Milo said, addressing Dr. Morden.
Morden’s smile was grim. “My type of complicated?”
“Oh, yeah.”
CHAPTER 44
Homicide Investigation Progress Report
DR#S 04-592 346-56
VICTIMS:
BRAND, MICHAELA ALLY
GAIDELAS, ANDREW WILLIAM
GAIDELAS, CATHERINE ANTONIA
GIACOMO, VICTORIA MARY
MESERVE, DYLAN ROGER
PEATY, REYNOLD MILLARD
WHITE FEMALE JANE DOE #1
WHITE FEMALE JANE DOE #2
WHITE FEMALE JANE DOE #3
WHITE FEMALE JANE DOE #4
LAS VEGAS, NV VICTIM
DUTCHEY, JULIET LEE
SECTION VIII: EVIDENCE
I. FROM STORAGE BUILDING OWNED BY BNB PROPERTIES, 9421⁄2 WEST WOODBURY ROAD, ALTADENA, CA, 91001:
1. 3 CARDBOARD CARTONS CONTAINING CLOTHING, SOME IDENTIFIED AS BELONGING TO VICTIMS BRAND, M, GAIDELAS, A, GAIDELAS, C, MESERVE, D, GIACOMO, V. VARIOUS FEMALE ATTIRE, IDENTIFICATION UNKNOWN.
2. 2 “MADE IN MEXICO” ONYX BOXES CONTAINING VARIOUS GOLD, SILVER, AND COSTUME JEWELRY, 3 PRS. EYEGLASSES, 1 BELONGING TO VICTIM GIACOMO, V, 2 UNATTRIBUTED, 1 SET SOFT CONTACT LENSES BELONGING TO VICTIM BRAND, M, 1 PARTIAL DENTAL BRIDGE BELONGING TO VICTIM GAIDELAS, A.
3. 3 POLYETHYLENE GARBAGE BAGS CONTAINING 53 BLEACHED HUMAN BONES, IDENTIFICATION IN PROGRESS PER THE CORONER’S OFFICE. (REF: PROFESSOR JESSICA SAMPLE, FORENSIC ANTHROPOLOGIST.)
4. 1 CARDBOARD CARTON MARKED SEARS-KENMORE CONTAINING 10 JUMBO ZIPLOC SANDWICH BAGS EACH CONTAINING A CLUMP OF HUMAN HAIR BOUND BY TWO RUBBER BANDS. (REF: PROF. J. SAMPLE.)
II. FROM TRUNK OF 1989 LINCOLN TOWN CAR VIN 33893566, REGISTERED TO BRADLEY MILLARD DOWD, GARAGED BE HIND STORAGE BUILDING AT 9421⁄2 WEST WOODBURY ROAD:
1. 1 SONY DIGITAL CAMERA MODEL DSC 588.
2. 1 EXCISED SECTION OF BLACK CARPETING FROM LTC.
3. FRONT AND REAR BLACK LEATHER SEATS FROM LTC.
III. FROM TRIPLEX SUBTERRANEAN BOMB SHELTERS, 43885 LATIGO CANYON ROAD, MALIBU, CA, 90265:
FROM UNIT “A” (NORTHERNMOST, SEE DIAGRAM):
1. CLOTHING, COSMETICS, PERSONAL EFFECTS BELONGING TO SUSPECT DOWD, N.
2. COLLAPSIBLE TWIN BED AND BEDDING.
3. PHOTOGRAPHS OF SUSPECTS DOWD, B, AND DOWD, N.
4. 5 TEETH BELONGING TO VICTIM MESERVE, D. PIERCED AND STRUNG ON A SILVER CHAIN.
5. 1 TAXIDERMICALLY PRESERVED HUMAN HEAD BELONGING TO VICTIM MESERVE, D.
6. 2 SIMILAR PRESERVATIONS, VICTIMS GAIDELAS, A, GAIDE LAS, C.
7. 1 COMPACT DISK CONTAINING DIGITAL PHOTOGRAPHIC IMAGES, MARKED “PARTY-TIME” CONTAINING PORNO GRAPHIC IMAGES OF:
A. SUSPECT DOWD, B, HAVING SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH V’S BRAND, M, GIACOMO, V, GAIDELAS, C, GAIDELAS, A, JANE DOES 1, 2, 3, 4. LAS VEGAS VICTIM, DUTCHEY, J.
B. SUSPECT DOWD, B, HAVING SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH SUSPECT DOWD, N.
C. SUSPECT DOWD, N, HAVING SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH VICTIM MESERVE, D.
D. SUSPECT DOWD, B, HAVING SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH VICTIM MESERVE, D.
8. 4 DIGITAL VIDEO DISKS CONTAINING MOTION PICTURES, CONTENT SIMILAR TO 3.
FROM UNITS “B” AND “C”:
1. 2 250 MB COMPUTER ZIP DISKS MARKED “PT CLIMAX,” CONTENTS SCRAMBLED, POSSIBLY DAMAGED. (REF: LAPD TECHNICAL DIVISION, SGT. S. FUJIKAWA.)
2. 1 IBM CLONE PERSONAL COMPUTER, 1 APC BATTERY BACKUP, 1 MICROTEK 19" MONITOR, 1 HEWLETT-PACKARD LASERJET 4050 PRINTER.
3. 1 42" SONY FLAT-SCREEN TELEVISION.
4. 1 BRASS COAT HOOK.
5. 1 213 SQ. FT. EXCISED SECTION, BEIGE NYLON CARPETING. 1 215.5 SQ. FT. EXCISED SECTION, BEIGE NYLON CARPETING.
6. 12 BOXES OF DISASSEMBLED ACOUSTICAL CEILING TILES.
7. 2 SETS SMITH & WESSON DOUBLE LOCK POLICE-ISSUE HANDCUFFS AND KEYS.
8. 1 SET ANTIQUE “E.D. BEAN” LEG IRON RESTRAINTS, C. 1885. (REF: PROFESSOR ANDRE WASHINGTON, HISTORIAN.)
9. 3 WOODEN BOXES CONTAINING VARIOUS SURGICAL KNIVES, NEEDLES, SAWS, SCRAPERS, SHEARS, CANNULAS, FUNNELS.
10. 1 “TI-DEE” HEAVY-DUTY SUCTION PUMP, MODEL A-334C.
11. 1 KINGSLEY SECRETION ASPIRATOR, MODEL CSI-PG005.
&n
bsp; 12. 4 SPOOLS MEDIBOND NYLON MONOFILAMENT SURGICAL SUTURE MATERIAL, TWO 20 MM, TWO 24 MM.
13. 2 UNMARKED CARDBOARD CARTONS CONTAINING SEALED CLEAR PLASTIC BAGS OF COTTON STUFFING.
14. 4 PLASTIC GALLON CONTAINERS, HYDROGEN PEROXIDE.
15. 1 BOX “PLEASURE-RIB” LATEX CONDOMS.
16. 1 5-GAL. PLASTIC CONTAINER, FORMIC ACID PICKLING SOLUTION.
17. 5 SETS “SNUG-FIT” LATEX GLOVES.
18. 1 EPOXY “TAXI-FORM SCULPTING KIT.”
19. 1 QUART BOTTLE EATON SKIN DEGREASER AND PRESERVATIVE.
20. 1 5-LB. BAG “READI-TAN” DRY PRESERVATIVE.
21. 1 OAKES G-235C “MINOR SURGICAL PROCEDURE” TABLE WITH HEADREST AND DETACHABLE DRAIN...
Milo returned to his office and took the murder book from me.
“I wasn’t finished.”
He dropped the file in a drawer. “Michaela’s Honda finally showed up. Parking garage of a BNB building in Sierra Madre, towed to the motor lab as we speak.”
“Congratulations. As I was saying— ”
“How’s my prose?”
“Eloquent,” I said. “Please don’t tell me you want to have lunch.”
“It’s way past lunchtime, have your people call my people and we’ll do dinner.”
He sank down hard enough to make the desk chair groan. “Enough with the glib macho posturing. I’m thrashed and not ashamed to admit it.”
“Get any sleep?”
“Around five hours,” he said. “Over five days.”
“Time for a break,” I said.
“It ain’t the workload that’s keeping me up, boy-o, it’s the reality. As long as you’ve perused, care to add any insights?”
“The PlayHouse was a talent pool in a much worse way than we imagined. For Nora, it served double duty. She got to feel omnipotent and she and Brad both enjoyed selecting victims.”
“Cold bitch,” he said. “Arrogant, too. That time we came to her house, she didn’t even pretend to care about Tori or Michaela.”
“I’m not sure she’s capable of pretending.”
“No acting chops? How’d she get so many people to believe in her?”
“By attracting a hungry crowd who thought they were getting a bargain. Emotionally needy people will swallow poisoned Kool-Aid.”
He sighed. “All those pretty folk auditioning, having no idea what the part really was.”
“Any luck identifying the other girls?”
“Not yet. No other male bodies show up yet, but I’m not counting on this being the end of it. There’s still a dozen BNB properties we haven’t looked at and the backhoes have only dug up a corner of the property. How do you see the hoax figuring in?”
“Theater of the cruel. Nora and Brad hatched it up for fun, convinced Dylan Meserve he was a coconspirator. But he was a human chess piece.”
“Think he knew what was in store for Michaela?”
“Have you found any indication that he was aware of the other victims?”
“Not so far,” he said. “But the way he had Michaela pretend to choke him, that coulda been foreshadowing her fate, right?”
“Or he had his own kinks,” I said. “We’ll probably never find out unless some kind of diary shows up. Or Brad or Nora start talking.”
“So far, they’re both dummying up,” he said. “I got Brad on suicide watch, like you suggested. Jail guard said Brad thought that was funny.”
“Maintaining the facade,” I said. “Once it crumbles, he’ll have nothing left.”
“You’re the shrink...back to the hoax. Nora wink-winks at Meserve, pretends to be outraged and kicks Michaela out of class. Why?”
“My bet’s still on setting Michaela up for Brad’s ‘rescue.’ She was broke, unemployed, hungry for attention, frustrated career-wise. If Brad just happened to drive by in one of his shiny cars and struck up a conversation, it could’ve seemed like providence. She already knew his face from the PlayHouse so there wouldn’t be any stranger anxiety. And Brad’s connection to Nora would’ve made Michaela eager to hook up with him.”
“Trying to get back in Nora’s good graces.”
“Or he might’ve told her he had his own connections, could help her career. Same for Tori. Same for all of them.”
“Seduction instead of abduction,” he said. “Nice dinner, good wine, come up and enjoy the sunset at my Malibu place. Wonder how Michaela felt when she saw he was taking her back to Latigo Canyon.”
“If he’d built up trust by wining and dining her, it could’ve kept her anxiety in check. Or he took her somewhere else first and restrained her.”
“If he’s got another chamber of horrors, it hasn’t turned up yet. One thing’s for sure: Nothing went on at his house or Nora’s. Not a speck of nasty at either.”
I said, “Why sully the home front when you’ve got a special place set aside for your hobbies. These people are all about splitting.”
“Speaking of hobbies, any theory about why Meserve and the Gaidelases were the only specimens they preserved?”
“The neck wound says they thought of preserving Michaela,” I said. “Went so far as to insert a cannula in her neck then changed their minds. No way to get inside their heads, but the Gaidelases and Meserve fit some kind of fantasy. If I could finish the file— ”
“There’s nothing in there about the past, Alex. Just more ugly. I’m stuck with this, but you’re not. Go home and forget about all of it.”
I said, “Any luck decoding the scrambled disk?”
He ran his tongue over cracked, dry lips, scratched his scalp, rubbed his face. He’d shaved carelessly and a patch of white fur ran along his jaw. His eyes were hooded and weary. “You’ve developed a hearing problem?”
I repeated the question.
“You never let go,” he said.
“That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
“The disk is decoded and loaded in Room Four. I’ve been watching it for the last hour. Hence, my sage advice about going home.”
“No sense postponing the inevitable,” I said.
“What’s inevitable?”
“I was at the scene when you found the shelter. Someone’s going to subpoena me. Either the D.A. or Stavros Menas.”
“Both Dowds tried to hire Menas but Nora got him and she wasn’t feeling sisterly. Brad’s looking for new representation.”
“Money talks and she’s got the mike.”
“Minus the millions Brad skimmed,” he said. “Most of which seems to have gone into the car collection and a little island he bought off the coast of Belize two months ago. And one more luxury purchase, three weeks ago: jet card for a Gulfstream V, twenty-five hours. That’s three hundred fifty grand for a plane with international range. Wanna take bets on there being an offshore bank account somewhere south of the equator? The estate lawyers who appointed him trustee are gobbling Prilosec and the new court-appointed lawyers are licking their chops. We’re talking years of litigation, there goes the rest of the estate.”
I said, “Planning his escape, those brochures were for real. Then he got clever and planted them in Nora’s nightstand.”
“Too clever,” he said. “Sitting in that Range Rover, using Billy’s land. Dutiful caretaker of his sibs, meanwhile he’s screwing them, literally and financially. Think he was planning to take Nora with him or go it alone?”
“Unless she knew about the island I’d say alone. Is anyone protecting Billy’s interests?”
“The court-appointed lawyers claim to be.”
“I finally got permission to see him yesterday, drove out to Riverside.”
“How’s the place they put him in?”
“Grim,” I said. “Assisted care facility, a hundred Alzheimer’s patients and Billy.”
“Learn anything?”
“He’s in shock and disoriented. I got about three minutes before the attorney-on-premises ended it.”
“Why?”
“Billy started crying.”
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