As Milo regarded him, Carmeli took in lungfuls of smoke and tapped his foot. His eyes had turned wild and, as if realizing it, he closed them.
When they opened, they were dead, and the look on his face chilled me.
'If you refuse me, Milo, I will not make vengeful phone calls to the mayor or anyone else. Because vengeance is personal and you hold no interest for me personally, only as a means to an end. You might do well to adopt the same attitude. Think of me as a bureaucratic idiot, curse me every morning for listening in on your conversations. I'll live with your curses. But does your opinion of me mean Irit's murder doesn't deserve your best efforts?'
"That's the point, Mr Carmeli. You've been hampering my best efforts.'
'No, I reject that. I reject that absolutely, and if you analyze the situation honestly, you will, too. If the Ortiz boy's shoes were left with the police to get attention, would giving the garbage more attention solve the problem? Be honest.'
Looking for an ashtray, he found one in a nearby cubicle, picked it up, flicked.
I thought of the kitchen conversation he'd heard. My theories, Milo's procedures.
Now he was face-to-face with Milo again, inches away, holding his cigarette next to his trouser leg.
Milo said, 'listen, I'm not gonna stand here and make a big deal out of this, because you've been through it, you've got serious rights, here. But I'm also not gonna let you control the investigation because of your outrage or who you happen to be. You're out of your element. You don't know what the hell you're doing.'
'Granted.'
'The point is, Mr Carmeli, my job is a lot more perspiration than inspiration and if I do solve a few more cases than someone else it's probably because I try not to get distracted. And you've been distracting me. Right from the beginning, you've
been trying to call the shots. And now all this espionage shit. I just spent hours of investigative time chasing down your boy in there, instead of looking for Irit's killer. Now, you order me to adopt him and just-'
'Not an order, a request. And one that could help you. He's a very able detective-'
'I'm sure he is,' said Milo. 'But one case, in a country where violent crime is rare, has nothing to do with what we're dealing with. And now I've got to take time off from the investigation to figure out where he stuck his goddamn bugs-'
'Not necessary,' said a quiet, boyish voice. I hadn't heard Sharavi come out of the office but he was there, hand in pocket again. 'I'll tell you exactly where they are.'
'Great,' said Milo, wheeling on him. 'Very comforting.' He gave a disgusted look.
Carmeli said, 'We meant no harm, Milo. The intention was always to be open, eventually-'
'How eventually?'
'The surveillance was nothing personal. And if you must blame someone, blame me. Superintendent Sharavi happened to be in the States on other business and I had him brought to L.A. because Gorobich and Ramos were getting nowhere. They talked to me, those two, but they never told me anything. I'm sure you know what I mean.'
Milo didn't answer.
Carmeli said, 'I needed a starting point. Some basic information. In my position, can you honestly say you would have done any differently? The idea, all along, was that if Superintendent Sharavi came up with something, you'd be the first to-'
'Eventually? What if Dr Delaware hadn't noticed that van in the alley? Would we have ever been told anything?' He faced Sharavi. 'Screwed up, didn't you, James Bond?'
Sharavi said, 'Yes', with an utter lack of defensiveness. Milo shook his head. 'license-plate switches, mail drop, and a phony language teacher to hide your trail? What's Irina, a full-fledged secret agent or just some free-lance? And who the hell is P. L. Almoni?'
Carmeli smiled and hid it behind his smoking hand. 'My mistake,' said Sharavi. 'I didn't appreciate Dr Delaware's powers of observation.''
'Underestimating Dr Delaware is no way to win at blackjack,' said Milo. 'He's a detail guy, attuned to all the nuances.' 'Obviously,' said Sharavi. 'He was the one who urged pursuing the DVLL angle?
'Our first real "break,' said Carmeli, waving his cigarette. 'Finally. We've plugged it into all our databases. Here, back in Israel, Asia, Europe. We have resources you don't. If we pool - this is no time to let egos get in-'
'Learn anything from your databases?' Milo asked him. 'Not yet, but the point is, the wider the net-' 'Sometimes the wider the net, the bigger the tangles, Mr Carmeli.' He turned to Sharavi. 'So tell me, Superintendent, is this conversation being taped, too?'
Sharavi's eyebrows arched higher. He glanced at Carmeli. Carmeli said, 'No, we've disconnected the recorders in the suite. However, you were recorded the first time we met.' Milo allowed himself a tiny smile. Gut instincts confirmed. 'From now on,' Carmeli continued, 'you have my word that no further surveillance will be conducted without your-'
'Assuming there is a "from now on",' said Milo.
'Are you that egotistical?' said Carmeli. He turned to me.
'When I address Milo, I'm including you, Doctor. In light of the DVLL angle and two other related murders, we're clearly faced with a psychopathologic killer, so psychological input is called for. I'm not trying to get between you and Milo, but whatever he decides, the Israeli consulate is willing to reimburse you for your time at a very generous rate. The consulate is also willing to extend itself to you considerably. Because we know the deck is stacked against success and anything we can do to-'
'Anything?' said Milo. 'You're saying the investigation gets the full clout of your office?'
'One hundred percent. It always has.' 'Full clout is yours to grant? Being only a social director? License to cater?'
Carmeli was thrown off. 'Whatever is in my power I'll- Carmeli's eyes shifted over to Sharavi. The dark man said nothing.
'I'm an arranger,' Carmeli said. 'I arrange all sorts of things.'
Milo and Carmeli remained eye to eye, each holding on to the stare as if it were precious.
Carmeli moved away first. 'I've said what I have to say.' He walked quickly back to his office and closed the door.
Milo said, 'How do we get out of here?' to Sharavi.
Sharavi reached behind the water cooler and something clicked. As Milo started for the door, Sharavi said, 'In line with my promise to tell you everything, here's something important: Someone wrote DVLL in ballpoint pen in Raymond Ortiz's right shoe. Small letters, but discernible under the blood.'
Milo's hands clenched again and a dragon grin stretched his mouth unnaturally. 'You have them.'
'No, they're in the Newton Division evidence room. Some of the blood has flaked away over time and it appears to have been applied thinly - probably with a brush, there seem to be strokes. But once you know what to look for, the letters are clear.'
'A brush,' said Milo.
'Painting with a child's blood,' said Sharavi, looking at me. 'Maybe he sees himself as an artist.'
Milo cursed silently.
'One thing that interests me,' said Sharavi, 'is the fact that the writing was done first and then the blood was added. So even back then, when, as Dr Delaware has pointed out, he was still impulsive, those letters - leaving a message - meant something to him and he planned carefully. He's always had a definite agenda.'
'What else interests you?' said Milo.
'Just the elements that you're aware of. The variability in methods and body positioning, the geographic scatter, two girls, one boy. The lack of pattern to throw us off, but despite that, a pattern, as Dr Delaware has suggested. Retardation's obviously an issue, so maybe DVLL has something to do with that, or handicaps in general - D for defective. Defective devils, something like that.'
He took out his bad hand and looked at it. 'Until the match between Irit and the Shaver girl came up, I was skeptical about Dr Delaware's theory of linkage. Even now, there's a disconnected feeling to these killings.'
'Disconnected, how?' I said.
'I don't know.' The smooth face tightened and lines showed around the eyes. '
Not that my opinion means much. I have only dealt with one serial killer. In Israel that makes me an expert. Here...' He shrugged.
'How'd you get the shoe?' said Milo.
'I didn't get it, I got to it. Please don't ask more.'
'Why not?'
'Because I can't tell you.'
'Open communication, huh?'
'From now on. The shoes are in the past. With three killings on your hands, maybe more, why bother?'
'More?'
'At this level of subtlety,' said Sharavi, 'there could be DVLL messages never detected. Don't you think?'
Milo didn't answer.
'I understand your not trusting me,' said the dark man. 'In your position I'd feel the same way-'
'Cool it with the empathy, Superintendent. That's Dr Delaware's territory.'
Sharavi sighed. 'All right. Would you like me to remove the bugs tonight or tomorrow?'
'Where are they?'
'All in Dr Delaware's home.'
'Where else?'
'Just there.'
'Why should I believe you?'
'No reason,' said Sharavi, 'except I have no interest in lying to you. Check for yourself. I'll provide debugging equipment.'
Milo waved him off. 'How many bugs are there in Dr Delaware's home?'
'Four. In the phone receiver, under the living room couch, under the dining table, and the kitchen table.'
'That's it?'
'Hook me up to a polygraph if it'll make you feel better.'
'Polygraphs can be fooled.'
'Sure,' said Sharavi, 'by psychopaths with abnormally low levels of arousal. I'm not a psychopath. I sweat.'
'Do you?'
'All the time. Now, shall I disconnect the bugs or do you
want to do it yourself? Nothing complicated. Four little black discs that pop right off.'
'Where's the feed?'
'A phone at my place.'
'What else do you have there?'
'A police scanner, various equip-'
'A scanner with tactical lines?'
Sharavi nodded.
'What else?'
'The usual. A fax machine, computers.'
'You're hooked into all the police data banks,' I said. 'DMV, NCIC.'
'Yes.'
'State offender files, too?'
'Yes.' He turned to Milo. 'I'm aware of all the work you've done looking into alibis-'
'Who else are you working with besides Ms English-as-a-Second-Language?'
'I'm working completely alone. Irina is employed by the consulate.'
'Big shot's daughter gets killed and they send just one guy?'
'I'm all they have,' said Sharavi. 'For this kind of thing.'
'Just how big is Carmeli?'
'He's considered... very talented.'
'What kind of case was this Butcher?'
'Sexual psychopath, organized, a careful planner. He murdered Arab women - runaways and prostitutes at first, then he progressed to less-marginal victims - a woman who'd just left her husband and was socially vulnerable. He gained their trust, anesthetized them, then dissected them and dumped their bodies in hilly areas around Jerusalem, sometimes accompanied by pages from the Bible.'
'Another case with messages,' I said. 'What was his?'
'We never had a chance to interview him but we suspect he had some kind of racist agenda, possibly trying to cause a race war between Arabs and Jews. The FBI was informed fully. If you'd like, I'll get you copies of the VICAP case file.'
'You never had a chance to interview him,' said Milo. 'Meaning he's dead.'
'Yes.'
'How?'
'I killed him.' The golden eyes blinked. 'Self-defense.'
Milo looked down at the damaged hand.
Sharavi raised his arm and the limp flesh bobbed. 'He doesn't get all the credit for this. I was partially disabled in the Six-Day War. He destroyed what function was left. I would have preferred capturing him alive in order to learn from him. But...' Another blink. 'After it was over, I read all I could about people like him. There wasn't much, the FBI was just getting the VICAP program started. Now, they offer profiles but Dr Delaware's point about profiles relying upon the past is well-taken. What's to stop some clever boy from doing his reading too, and using it against us?'
'Us?' said Milo.
'Policemen. There is a certain... contrived feeling to these killings, don't you think?'
'Self-defense,' said Milo. 'So now you've been brought over to "defend" yourself against our guy.'
'No,' said Sharavi. 'I'm not a hired assassin. I'm here to investigate Irit Carmeli's death because Consul Carmeli thought I could be of use.'
'And Consul Carmeli gets what he wants.'
'Sometimes.'
'He said you were in the States. Where?'
'New York.'
'Doing what?'
'Security work at the embassy.'
'Self-defense work?'
'Security work.'
'You speak excellent English,' I said.
'My wife is American.'
'Is she here with you?' said Milo.
Sharavi gave a low, soft laugh. 'No.'
'Where's she from?'
'L.A.'
'Lots of L.A. connections,' said Milo.
'Another point in my favor. Shall I disconnect the bugs?'
'Ever been tapped yourself?'
'Probably.'
'You don't mind?'
'No one likes the loss of privacy,' said Sharavi.
'You guys are big on that, aren't you? Gadgetry, top security, high tech. But all the Mossad crap didn't help your prime minister, did it?'
'No,' said Sharavi. 'It didn't.'
'That was an interesting one,' said Milo. 'I'm no conspiracy buff, but it made me wonder: The guy shoots Rabin in the back, from two feet away. Next day there's video footage on TV showing him heckling Rabin at a bunch of rallies, frothing at the mouth, having to be carried away. And within hours of the assassination all his confederates are rounded up. So he was well known to the authorities, but the security guards let him get right next to the target.'
'Interesting, isn't it?' said Sharavi. 'What's your theory?'
'Someone didn't like the boss.'
'There are people who agree with you. Another theory is that even experienced security people couldn't imagine a Jewish assassin. Yet another is that the original plan was to
use blanks, make a public statement, and the assassin changed his mind at the last minute. In any case, it's a national disgrace. And it's caused me additional pain because the assassin was of Yemenite descent and so am I - shall I disconnect now or later? Or would you care to do it yourself?'
'Later,' said Milo. 'I think I'd rather look at your place, first.'
Sharavi was surprised. 'Why?'
'See how the high-tech half lives.'
'Will we be working together?'
'Do I have a choice?'
'There are always choices,' said the dark man.
'Then my choice right now is to see your setup. If you can't even give on that, I'll know what I'm dealing with.'
Sharavi touched his lip with his good hand and gazed up at Milo. The surprised eyes looked innocent.
'Sure,' he said. 'Why not?'
He gave us an address on the 1500 block of Livonia Street and told us to see ourselves out and meet him. Then he slipped behind a partition and disappeared.
We drove south on La Cienega, passing one dark restaurant after another, heading for Olympic. Milo said, 'He uses that hand as a prop.'
'Handicapped detective on a case full of handicapped victims. It could give the case another dimension for him.'
'Despite what he says, think he's really here to clean up the mess?'
'I don't know.'
'Just between you and me and the dashboard, Alex, that doesn't sound half bad. We catch the bastard, the Israelis finish him off, no publicity, no media bullshit, no goddamn
lawyers, and the Carmelis and God-knows-ho
w-many other parents get some closure.'
He laughed. 'Some public servant I am. The rule of law. But someone who'd do that to retarded kids...' He cursed. 'Painting with blood. DVLL in the shoes. So Raymond's a match, too. What bugs me is that it's only luck that led us to the message. And your hawkeye.'
Jonathan Kellerman - Alex 12 - Survival of the Fittest Page 19