Faye Kellerman - Decker 05 - False Prophet

by False Prophet

  "Mike Ness," he whispered. "AKA Michelle Ness—tennis team, volleyball team, Softball team, basketball team, and... the cheerleading squad." He laughed softly. "I was a cheerleader. No chick on earth could jump as high as I could. It was all the hormones, you know."

  "You were taking male hormones?" Marge said.

  "Didn't have to take them, Detective, I was born with them. You look at my birth certificate, you'll see I'm a male."

  "We know that."

  "You know—" Ness laughed. "Man, you guys are dedicated. Now can I have the album?"

  Decker said, "One more question, Mike—"

  "I know the question. A variation on the old who am I? game. In this case, it's what am I?"

  Decker was quiet. He watched Ness pour himself another Scotch. Comfortable in the room. Decker wondered how many times Davida had called him down here to do her bidding—sexual or otherwise. Ness took a big swallow of booze.

  "I've got this condition called CAH—cortical adrenal hypcr-plasia. I'm missing this enzyme... a genetic screwup. Without this enzyme, the adrenal glands go nuts and pump out gallons of extra hormones—androgens."

  He faced them, eyes hot with anger.

  "Know what androgens do to fetuses? They turn little baby girls into little baby boys. Wasn't until I was a year and a half old that some doctor finally figured out my balls weren't gonna descend because I had no balls. In fact, I wasn't even a boy. I was a girl born with fused labia that looked like a scrotum and a clitoris as big as a dick. Got that way because my adrenals had been feeding me testosterone since I was conceived."

  He took another sip of booze.

  "The condition wasn't life-threatening. Matter of fact, my mom could have done nothing about it and just raised me as a boy. Other than the fact I'd be sterile and would wind up with a small

  dick—small but it could do the job—I could lead a pretty normal life.

  "But my mom didn't want that. My chromosomes said I was a girl and Mom was a firm believer in God's plan. If God wanted me to be a boy, he would have made me a real boy. So Mom decided to turn me back into a girl. So... we moved to another neighborhood. After a year and a half of being Michael wearing overalls and playing with firemen, I suddenly became Michelle wearing dresses and playing with dolls. I remember being very confused."

  He finished his drink and quickly poured another one.

  "Let's see, I was on doca, cortisol, then one estrogen after another. My parents could have done corrective surgery right away, but Mom was a fanatic about things being perfect. Because I was so much less than perfect, she insisted on the best surgeon in the country, which cost a fortune. She and Dad decided to save up and do it right. Meanwhile, I'm a little girl with a bulge in my underwear. I learned real fast that private parts were kept private. The hormonal therapy did shrink my dick a little but I never looked like a real girl. I never, ever felt like a girl."

  He gazed into his drink.

  "I wanted to die. Only thing that kept me going was Kelley. God, I loved her. I was a monster and she was perfect. A perfect little girl with a perfect little body. She reacted like a little girl, too... something I could never get the hang of. Screaming when she saw spiders or worms." He raised his voice to a falsetto. " 'Mitchy, Mitchy, kill it, kill it!' "

  He laughed.

  "I was her insect henchman. Kell used to follow me around and sic me on whoever was giving her a hard time. Everyone knew Kelley's sister didn't take no shit."

  He rubbed his hands over his face.

  "Course everything got worse during adolescence. I stopped taking my meds regularly 'cause I hated the way they made me feel—soft and moody. Soon as I started skipping them, I started changing back—hairy legs, peach fuzz on my face, deeper voice. It was slow so people didn't notice real fast. What happened was I was turning into a real ugly girl. What made it a real nightmare was I started liking chicks. Gym was a sick joke—me looking at all those naked girls, getting hard under a towel. It was hideous."

  The room was silent.

  Ness said, "I didn't have a friend in the world except Kelley. I was a fucking freak. But man, I could do the splits like no chick alive." He laughed. "The in-girls were furious when I made cheerleader. Course they couldn't say it out loud. I wasn't only strong, but junkyard mean. Any girl gave me or my sister a hard time, I'd take care of them. They knew I meant business."

  He let out a soft laugh.

  "Their boyfriends would come after me and try to intimidate me—push me, poke me, yank my hair. Then I'd jump 'em and beat the shit out of 'em. The guys wouldn't really fight me because they thought I was a girl, spent all their energy trying to block my punches. By the time they realized I wasn't fighting like a girl, I'd done serious damage. They never dared to say anything—too embarrassing. Even I had my few moments in the sun."

  He smiled again at the recollection.

  "Eventually, everyone just left me alone. Life was never good, but at least it was calm. Then my wonderful parents knocked on my door one day and announced they'd saved enough money to get me a first-class surgery job."

  His eyes made contact with Decker's.

  "Know what I heard. Sergeant? We're gonna take you to a doctor and he's gonna cut off what little remains of your dick."

  He shook his head fiercely.

  "Uh-uh, no way, man! I had the unmitigated nerve to tell my parents that I wanted to be a boy—fuck the meds, fuck the surgery, fuck the senior prom—which infuriated my mom because she'd spent a hundred dollars on the gown.

  "My wonderful, wonderful parents promptly told me they'd disown me if I went back to being a boy. So I did... and they did. Only one who stuck by me was Kelley. So they started getting on her case. Finally, they kicked her out of the house 'cause they were fighting so much. She was just seventeen and had no way to support herself. An A student and they wouldn't give her a red cent. I supported her. I got us an apartment and put her through college. All this crap raining down on me and my sister because my parents couldn't accept what their genetics had done to me."

  Ness flicked his wrist and checked the time. He let out a lungful of air. "I gotta go... five o'clock yoga. I'm late."

  Decker stood, then tossed Ness the album. Ness one-handed it and tucked it under his arm.

  "I told you guys I didn't rape Lilah."

  Decker didn't answer. "Thank you," Ness said. "You're welcome," Decker said.

  Walking into the station house, Decker was philosophic. They'd found nothing at Davida's bungalow—the memoirs were probably a lost cause—but at least he'd be home before Shabbat with time to spare. Hollander grunted and lifted his butt from the chair.

  "You guys just missed Ms. Eversong."

  "She's gone?" Marge said.

  '"Bout twenty minutes ago. You guys want some coffee?"

  Decker picked up his phone messages and began to sift through them. "Thanks, Mike. Coffee sounds great."

  "They couldn't keep her longer than an hour?" Marge complained.

  "You need a reason to detain someone, Marge," Hollander said. "What are we going to bag her on? Not reporting a crime?"

  "What about Freddy?" she said to Decker. "We still have Freddy."

  "Want to know what I think, Margie?" Decker said. "I think Ness is right. I think Freddy's going to recant. I think we're going to end up with less than what we started out with."

  "So she's just going to walk?"

  "'Fraid so," Hollander said. "And Morrison suspects she'll probably throw us a lawsuit for harassment. At least this time, it'll be a suit we can probably beat. You see him on the boob tube? 1 thought he came off okay. I didn't sec you two, though."

  "You didn't see my 'Hi, Mom'?" Marge asked.

  "It's probably videotape on the editing floor," Decker said.

  "Yeah, the story was just a couple of sound bytes," Hollander said. "With Davida released, it's yesterday's news."

  "Where is Morrison?" Decker asked.

  "Out." Hollander shrugged. "He did leave a message
for you guys. On your desk. Rabbi."

  Decker walked over to his spot in the squad room and picked up a plain white envelope resting on his desktop. He pulled out the contents and read the note to Marge.

  "Burbank's prelim of the Mcrritt homicide jibes with Davida's account, but they'll do follow-up.... Dcvonshire'll do follow-up on Donnally.... Lilah's assault ruled self-inflicted.... Davida's

  jewels have been recovered.... Charges dropped against Totes. Good job... time to move on."

  "That's it?"

  "It looks that way."

  "That stinks!" Marge banged her fist against her desk. "I'm gonna follow up on this."

  "Better be on your own time, Detective," Hollander said. "I took the liberty of giving you a new two-forty-one. Girl was attacked in the underground lot of a parking mall in daylight. She was checked out, sent home. I contacted her, started the initial paperwork. She's real scared and I had a problem with rapport. She jumped when I asked her if she wanted a female detective. You should probably interview her before the weekend starts. I'll take your two juvey court cases in exchange."

  Marge slumped down in her chair and placed her chin in her hands. Decker groaned and handed her a message slip.

  "Just when I thought I was out of deep water," he said.

  "Sun Valley Pres," Marge said. "Lilah must not have been transferred yet. Are you going to call her back?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "You can put it off until Monday."

  "Right. Then she'll croak over the weekend and I'll feel guilty for the rest of my life." He picked up Marge's phone and dialed the number on the slip. "I hate this."

  Marge gently patted his back. "Ain't it a drag to have a conscience?"

  Decker said, "Damn it, it's ringing. Maybe she'll hang up on me."

  Lilah answered hello, her voice low and sultry. Decker felt his stomach tighten. "Lilah, it's Detective Sergeant—"

  "My mother just phoned me not more than ten minutes ago! Do you know what she told me?"

  "Lilah—"

  "She told me you had her brought down to the station house for questioning!"

  "Li—"

  "She told me the press was crawling all over her. Snapping pictures of her inside a police car! She told me you were tearing her room apart."

  "We had a warrant—"

  "Looking for ways to ruin her—"

  "Not at all—"

  "That you were spreading lies about her!"

  "I'm not spreading anything—"

  "Lies about her, lies about me, lies about Kingston!"

  "Lilah—"

  "Then she said that you said that I had stolen her jewels. Did you say that, Peter?"

  "Lilah—"

  "I'd never seen her so furious! She was outraged! Screaming and ranting and raving!"

  "It is not our intention to—"

  "Don't give me that garbage! Are you out to ruin her good name?"

  "We were—"

  "Just hold on a second, Peter. I have a visitor."

  Decker heard mumbling in the background.

  "I've got to go now, Peter."

  Her voice had turned treacly sweet.

  "My dear brother John is here to visit me," Lilah purred. "My God, I haven't seen him in ages! He brought me orchids, the dear man."

  So the good brother had come a-calling. Was he trying to clear his conscience for not visiting Lilah after she was supposedly raped or had Davida somehow roped this poor guy into the family as Kingston's replacement? The heck with it. Decker told himself. None of it was his business. "Have a nice visit, Lilah."

  "You're turning Mother into a basket case, you know."

  "It's unintentional," Decker said.

  "That may be true, but that's what you're doing!" She suddenly giggled. "God, it's great to see the bitch suffer. Do keep up the good work, Peter!"

  She hung up. And so did Decker.

  No one was home but the table was set—starched white linen, bone china, sterling, and crystal stemware. In front of his place setting were two braided loaves of egg bread covered by a dark-blue velvet cloth embroidered with silver and gold thread. A table fit for a king but meant for him.

  He took a quick shower, then shaved. When he came out, the house was still empty. Where was everyone?

  He listened and heard yapping noises outside. He went out the back door and found Rina sitting on the patio. She was wearing a loose housedress and had mules on her feet. She was trying to comb out long strands of wet black hair and was meeting resistance. She muttered fiercely each time the teeth fought with a tangle. The boys were whooping it up on horseback. They shouted hellos to their stepfather, and Decker smiled and waved. Rina looked up.

  "One day, I'm just going to chop it all off."

  "Go ahead." Decker sat next to her and kissed her cheek. "I'll love you bald."

  She attacked her tresses and didn't answer.

  Decker said, "You look tired, darlin'. Hard day?"

  "No, just another hot, pregnant day." She kissed Decker on the lips. "I promise I won't take it out on you."

  "Hey, that's what I'm here for."

  She loosened a snag and smiled victoriously. "You're home reasonably early."

  "What can I do you for?"

  "Nothing. Everything's under relative control." She put down the comb. "I saw your captain on the five-o'clock news. He looked uptight."

  "He probably was."

  "Is Davida being charged with the murder?"

  "Nope."

  "Then why the hoopla?"

  "It wasn't necessary. I told her I was going to bring her in for further questioning. Not that I really had much on her, but I just... I don't know. I wasn't going to let her get off easy. Then she got mad and called the press. So I called Morrison, who said he'd handle it. Big stories, big brass. It was fine with me."

  "You don't feel usurped?"

  "Not at all. I feel relieved to be rid of the bunch. I've got a brickload of current cases. It's not as if I'm lacking for work."

  "Did you talk to Lilah?"

  "I think she'll be fine." He paused. "I hope we won't hear from her again."

  "It was a lousy week for you, wasn't it?"

  "Yes, it was. Really unsatisfying- That's why I love horses. They're honest."

  Rina kissed him. "I'm sorry."

  "S'right. At least I earned my paycheck." He watched the boys and smiled. "They have the right idea."

  "Go join them."

  "Nah, I think I'd rather watch." He kissed his wife's check. "Rina, I promise I'll wallpaper the spare room this Sunday."

  "Don't worry about it."

  "I've got nothing else planned."

  "Peter, I think it would be better if you painted it instead of wallpapered it."

  "You spent seventeen bucks a roll on wallpaper. Now you want it painted?"

  "It's going to be Cindy's room for the summer. Maybe lilac walls would go over better than pictures of Mickey and Minnie having a Sunday picnic."

  "That's right. I hadn't even thought about Cindy. Some father I am."

  "You're a wonderful father, Peter. Cindy loves you, the boys love you, I love you. Try loving yourself, okay?"

  Decker smiled. "What are we going to do if the baby comes early?"

  "We can set up a crib in our room."

  "You don't mind?"

  "What's our choice? You can't build another room in two and a half months."

  "Do you mind that Cindy is staying with us for the summer?"

  "Mind? Chabibi, I wouldn't have it any other way. She's family!"

  Family. After what Decker had seen this past week, he had forgotten what real family was all about—things like love and nurturance instead of torment and jealousy. "You're a good kid, Rina."

  "Just one of a kind." She got up. "As long as you're supervising, I think I'll go check on the food."

  "Sure. Then go put your feet up and rest awhile, darlin'. I'll serve tonight."

  Rina mussed his damp hair. "Thanks."


  Decker watched her waddle to the house, waiting until she was inside before he broke into laughter. Click your heels together, Deck. There's no place like home.

  The End