by M. Z. Kelly
We watched as Jiggy Biggs and an attractive woman who looked to be in her twenties engaged in a variety of sex acts, including the use of the sex swing above the bed in the condo. In one of the images, Biggs tried to get his massive body up onto the swing while the woman attempted to perform fellatio on him while he was upside down, until the realtor fell off the swing onto the bed.
Hammer laughed and said, “There are some things that should be left to the circus.”
“All right, I’ve seen enough of this fuck parade,” Edna grumbled. He said to Harvey, “Who’s the fuck bunny?”
My partner closed his laptop. “Kristi Steiner. She’s been on Hollywood Gold a couple of times.”
“Barry Steiner’s wife?” I said, my mouth falling open.
Pearl nodded. “There’s a couple of more tapes with her and Biggs together. It looks like their relationship went on for some time.”
“So Barry Steiner has an affair with Biggs’ wife Leila and Biggs returns the favor with Kristi Steiner,” I said.
“And if Barry knew about it maybe he ended the affair by ending Biggs,” Harvey speculated.
“We’re gonna need to talk to both Steiner and his wife,” Edna said. “In the meantime we need to decide how to play things with the feds this afternoon. I think Wayland needs to be in jail before his troops stir up all kinds of shit on the streets.”
“It’s now a federal case,” Hammer said. “Since they’re doing the prosecution they’re going to want to play this out on their own terms. That probably means a lot of shock and awe.”
“And that could spark a gang war,” I said.
Edna dragged a hand through the thatch of hair on his head. “Hammer’s right. It’s their play. We just have to be prepared for the fallout.”
***
We reassembled in downtown Los Angeles that afternoon at the FBI building on Wilshire Boulevard. The room was packed with the brass, including Chief East, one of his deputy chiefs, his Media Relations Commander, and Captain Decker of Hollywood Station. I sat between Edna and Harvey. Pearl had some personal issues to deal with and couldn’t attend the meeting.
On the fed’s side was the director in charge of the Los Angeles office, Collin Taylor, his second in command, Cynthia McFadden, special agents Goodwin and Duncan, and a handful of other agents. From an outsider’s point of view, with each side on opposite sides of the table, it probably looked like LAPD squaring off against the FBI.
Taylor, a big man with a baritone voice and a take charge attitude, set the tone for the meeting. “Just to summarize where we stand, Jerry King is now in federal custody. Pending the successful prosecution of Rafi Wayland, he’ll be given a new identity and become a part of our witness protection program.
“King’s provided sworn affidavits to our investigators. Warrants have been issued for the arrest of the other parties involved in the drug smuggling, including a handful of civilian contractors and some military personnel that will be handled through the armed forces. We should have enough to put Wayland and the others involved in a super max prison for the rest of their lives.”
“My concern is the impact Wayland’s arrest will have on the streets,” Chief East said. “I have my officers on tactical alert, but if there’s civil unrest it may not be enough.”
“I suggest you put every available officer on duty when this meeting ends,” Taylor said. “I plan to have Wayland in custody tonight.”
Making a nighttime assault on Wayland’s compound seemed to me like a disaster waiting to happen. I was about to say as much when Edna beat me to it. “Do we have intel on Wayland’s whereabouts? Going into the compound at night could put us in a world of hurt, especially if he’s not there.”
“We have reason to believe he is on the grounds,” Cynthia McFadden said. “The area will be completely sealed off during the assault by our enhanced SWAT teams. Wayland will have nowhere to run.”
As they talked something again struck me about Rafi Wayland. Everyone in Hollywood knew about Wayland’s leadership of Blood Nation, but his involvement in drug trafficking had never come up. I’d made a point of asking one of our narcotics officers, Chewie Smith, about Wayland. He’d said it was the first he’d heard of the gang leader being tied to drugs. Pearl, who had known Wayland since he was a kid, also said he’d never heard of the gang leader dealing drugs.
I decided that I needed to voice my concerns. After McFadden concluded their plans to assault Wayland’s compound, I said, “From what I know, Rafi Wayland doesn’t have a history of dealing drugs in this area. Is there any doubt he’s behind the drug trade?”
Taylor answered for this second in command. “The heroin trail, leading from Afghanistan, to the military contractors, and to Travis Air Force Base is solid. Wayland, of course, went under an assumed name during the transactions; but, based on the affidavits Jerry King has sworn to, there’s no doubt that he was the kingpin behind everything.”
“Where does this leave us on the Biggs case?” Chief East asked Captain Decker. I had the impression he was annoyed by my question.
Decker, who was known to supervise from a distance, deferred to Edna.
“We have additional people that we’re looking at,” the lieutenant said. “Wayland may have been involved, but we need some more work on the ground before we can be sure.”
“We’ll sweat Wayland when he’s in custody,” Taylor said. “If he’s good for it, we’ll get it out of him.”
Chief East asked for a few additional details that Edna provided. When he was finished Collin Taylor gave us our marching orders. “The assault on Blood Nation happens this evening. Our SWAT teams will make entry before you locals will be given access to the compound. Rafi Wayland’s drug empire comes crashing down tonight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
As it turned out, Carl Hammer had been right; both about the feds taking over our case and about the shock and awe. Blood Nation’s headquarters was a compound located in a city block they owned in Inglewood, about ten miles from Hollywood. The entire area was gated and patrolled by armed guards.
“I just hope they have eyes on Wayland,” I said to Edna and the others as Bernie and I waited up the street from the compound just before seven that night. The brass had determined that Hammer would make the initial entry with the feds while the rest of us waited for the all clear signal before going in. Golden boy once again got star billing while the rest of us were held back like school kids who’d flunked a test.
“If Wayland’s not here, we’re gonna have a shit storm,” Edna said.
A few minutes later, when we heard the feds give the go signal for the assault we knew there was trouble. We heard a couple of shots being fired. And then all hell broke loose.
“This sounds bad,” I said to the others as we heard multiple gunshots, including what sounded like automatic weapons fire. “We need to move up the street and see what we can do to help.”
I knew from diagrams the FBI had shown us that the compound consisted of a central residence, four other buildings, some storage facilities, and several garages. We knew from the radio calls that the main residence was under assault, but the SWAT teams were meeting heavy resistance.
We hurried up the street until we were in front of the main gate. The scene was chaotic as feds armed with assault weapons patrolled the street, while the more heavily armed SWAT teams continued the raid on Blood Nation’s compound.
“We’ve got reports of several injuries,” Collin Taylor said to us and some other officers who were massed at the gate. The FBI agent in charge was nervous, his voice pitching high with emotion. “We’re going to need reinforcements. There are weapons and equipment in our trailer.”
We were each given an MP5 assault rifle, helmets, and vests. Knowing that my big dog wouldn’t be of assistance with the fire fight that was underway, I left Bernie with a civilian assistant before we moved through the main gate into the compound.
Once we were on the grounds, I saw that the SWAT teams had made entry to the main r
esidence, but they were taking additional fire. We then heard a loud explosion and the upper story of the house suddenly burst into flames.
“They’re burning it to the ground,” I said to Pearl, as flames shot up through the roof of Blood Nation’s headquarters.
“Maybe it was part of their defense plan,” Pearl suggested. “Burn the compound, along with whatever evidence might be hidden there.”
“There’s some action in one of the cottages,” one of the officers said to us. We followed him to where we found a SWAT team exchanging fire with someone inside a smaller home that was adjacent to the compound’s pool.
After several minutes of the firefight the shooting stopped and a couple of officers searched the residence. When we got the all clear signal we went inside where we found three dead bodies, including the body of someone the feds knew as Kenny Jenks, Wayland’s second in command.
“What about Wayland?” I asked one of the officers who had cleared the residence.
He shook his head. “Not here.”
We went back outside where we saw that the main residence was now completely engulfed in flames. A few minutes later, several fire engines and ambulances arrived but were stopped at the street. It was impossible to let them get closer until the area was completely secured.
An hour later, we finally got word that the compound had been cleared and there was no more resistance, probably because there was nothing left. A couple of fire engines finally made their way through the front gates to the smoldering ruins.
Carl Hammer came over to us a few minutes later. “Seven down on their side and a couple of our own, along with several injuries.”
“Any sign of Wayland?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure he was ever here.”
I walked away and blew out a breath in frustration as I watched the embers from the Blood Nation headquarters burning. While their buildings might be gone I knew that Rafi Wayland’s gang had tentacles throughout the city. The feds had made good on their shock and awe promise. They had also likely started a war.
The fire seemed symbolic to me, as though everything around me had suddenly gone up in flames. The city would likely be on fire by morning, the murders of Jiggy Biggs and George Bundt were unsolved, and I felt like my relationship with Buck McCade had, in a single terrible instant, also gone up in flames. I walked away with Bernie, brushing the tears from my eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY
It was after four in the morning by the time I finally dragged myself home with Bernie. I fell into bed and slept until noon. I tried the shower and was grateful for the three minutes of hot water that I got before it turned cold.
After doing what I could with hair that desperately needed a trim and some work with a stylist, I dressed in a pantsuit, trudged past the gargoyles in the hallway, and headed downstairs. I found my sister and roommates gathered in front of the television.
“Lots of action last night,” Mo said, brushing a purple wig in her lap and referencing the newscast showing the gang compound burning to the ground. “Not much left of Blood Nation, except blood and smoke.”
“They took care of everybody except Rafi the rat,” Natalie agreed. “He’s probably on a tropical island somewhere, laughing about what happened.”
My friend’s hair was bright red and matched her nail polish. “I see you made good on the makeover.”
“I think it’s gonna drive Sonny over the edge. Redheads are flaming hot, everybody knows it.”
“Red works for me,” Mo agreed. “Course, so does purple or green for that matter.”
I found a donut on the coffee table and nibbled on it as Bernie came over. I watched the newscast for a minute. I was surprised there was no mention of street riots or other gang problems in the city.
“You guys still think Rafi whacked Biggs?” Mo asked, putting the finishing touches on the purple wig.
I decided to be noncommittal. “We’re still working the case. Not sure.”
Mo put on the wig. “You ask me, I still think it was one of those women he hooked up with. Baby sis and me are gonna get to the bottom of things.”
“There’s nothing worse than a woman’s wrath,” Natalie said, after I again warned them to stay out of things. She must have seen the expression on my face after her comment and said, “Sorry pet, didn’t mean nothing personal.”
“It’s okay,” I lied.
The truth was, I hadn’t been able to put what happened with Buck’s ex out of my mind since I left the island. Buck had tried calling me last night, but I was busy with the raid and let the message go to voice mail. He’d left a message for me to call him.
I decided to change the subject and asked Natalie, “How are things going with Sonny?”
Natalie smiled in a seductive way. “Guess I didn’t need to worry about that medical condition I mentioned before.”
“What cond…oh.”
“Sonny performed CPR on baby sis last night,” Mo said to me. “She spent half the night screaming that her vagina still works.”
Lindsay laughed and asked Natalie, “Is Sonny still working on having your actor’s workshop at the Dolby Theater?”
“He’s got most of the details arranged. We’re on for this coming Thursday night.” Natalie turned to me. “You’re still coming to watch Mulligan, right?”
“Who?”
“Your partner. He keeps messing up his lines and has to repeat ‘em so many times the other students have started calling him Mulligan.”
Bernie was whining and doing a tail wag, telling me he needed a walk. I got his leash and said, “I’ll try to make it. I’m afraid my new partner is definitely a work in progress in more ways than one.”
We took a leisurely stroll toward the back of the property. Along the way I found several holes had been dug, probably by Dr. Lester looking for bodies. I hadn’t heard anything more from the crime lab about the knife he’d found, which was a good thing from my perspective.
“Hello there.”
I turned and saw that Brie Henner was standing near the carriage house. I’d forgotten all about her moving in yesterday. I walked over and said, “How did the move go?”
“Still settling in.” She waved a hand and showed me through the front door. Inside I found her five year-old daughter, Lily, painting a living room wall with Phyllis.
Brie introduced me to her daughter who said, “Phyllis and me are adding some whimsy.”
I chuckled and looked over at her painting companion. He looked like a gentle giant next to the little girl.
“Saw one of them TV shows where they did a room makeover,” Phyllis said in his deep voice. “It’s all about the whimsy.”
I smiled and turned to Brie who was laughing. She said to them, “Keep it up and I’ll have you add some whimsy to the kitchen next.”
We left them and I accepted Brie’s offer of tea, settling in at her small kitchen table. When she brought hot water over from the stove she mentioned last night’s raid on the gang compound and the body count. “I’m going to have a busy few days at the shop.”
“Speaking of that, I forgot to ask Harvey how his morgue visit went.”
“After a rough start he did pretty well. I even had him assist using a Stryker saw during a brain removal.”
“You’re kidding me.”
We chatted about Harvey’s progress for a few minutes before I told her what I’d learned about Jiggy Biggs having several affairs, including being involved with Barry Steiner’s wife, Kristi. “We’ll probably talk to her today.”
She set her tea cup down and considered what I’d said. “It’s just a guess on my part, but I don’t think Biggs’ death was a spontaneous act.”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“Biggs was shot from behind. He didn’t see his assailant coming. If the shooter was emotionally distraught, he or she would probably want Biggs to know who was coming for him. The killer would have wanted to make it personal.”
“That’s worth
keeping in mind.” I sipped my tea and was quiet for a minute.
Brie must have noticed I was down. “Are things okay?”
I shook my head. “Not really.” I took a few minutes, explaining what had happened the night before last. “I’m not sure where Buck and I go from here. It was pretty upsetting.”
“I can imagine. His ex sounds really disturbed.” She reached over and took my hand. “You need to be careful, Kate.”
I nodded, stood up and took my cup to the sink. “I’d better get going, busy day ahead.”
She came over and hugged me. We walked to the door and she said, “I almost forgot to mention. A couple came by yesterday, saying something about owning the property. They had a southern accent.”
Phyllis apparently overheard our conversation. I looked over as he said, “You don’t have to worry, they won’t be back.”
Brie smiled at me and said, “Strong and whimsical. Who could ask for more?”
***
I decided that I needed to call Buck before heading to the station. I walked to the back of the property where it overlooked the downtown skyline and held my breath as I hit the call button.
“I’m glad you finally got back to me,” Buck said. “I saw last night’s raid on the gang compound and knew you were probably there.”
“I’m still in one piece. Can’t say the same for the gang headquarters or several of Wayland’s associates.”
He went on for a few minutes, asking for a few details about my case before the conversation became personal. “I want you to know how sorry I am about what happened. I don’t know what else to say.”
I gathered in a deep breath, released it slowly. “Your ex…she must be pretty…disturbed to do something like that.”
“I knew Colleen was sick, but this takes things to another level. I’ve filed a report and asked the patrol officers to keep an eye out for her. She needs to be hospitalized.”
It was the first time I heard him use his ex-wife’s first name. I agreed that she needed medical care and then asked the question that had been on my mind since our night together. “Do you think Colleen could be dangerous?”