Gecko

by Ken Douglas

  He parked in the clinic lot, locked the car and made his way to the reception, where he was confronted by a beauty that looked like she stepped straight out of a centerfold. A perfect advertisement for Kohler’s practice.

  “ Do you have an appointment?” she asked in the kind of voice that made men stammer.

  “ I’m a police officer.” He showed his badge. “I’d like to talk to Dr. Kohler about what happened yesterday morning.”

  “ He’s not here, won’t be for the next two weeks.”

  He was about to ask the next most obvious question, when she answered it without his asking.

  “ He’s at his place up north. He has a summer home in Tampico.”

  “ Really? I grew up in Palma. A stone’s throw away.”

  “ Dr. Kohler’s place is on Mountain Sea Road. Do you know it?”

  “ I know it well.” Washington smiled, putting the woman at ease.

  “ You’d love his house, everybody does,” she said. “It has the woods in front and a cliffside view of the ocean from the rear. I love sitting on that deck and listening to the waves.”

  “ Sounds like a neat place,” Washington said.

  “ Gorgeous, but only from the inside. It looks like a prison from the outside. Gray, with bars on the windows. He has to keep it that way to keep the thieves away, because he’s not there all that much.”

  “ Can’t be too careful these days,” Washington said.

  “ Would you like me to get him on the phone?”

  He told her it wasn’t that important. He would see the doctor when he returned and she lit her face up with a smile. He thanked her and made his way back to the car.

  It was time to put the Monday-Kohler business out of his mind. He hadn’t seen Glenna in two weeks and he was looking forward to lunch. Especially since they were eating at Armando’s, his favorite Italian restaurant. He smiled at the thought of the rich food. He was hungry.

  Thirty minutes later he was sitting in a back booth bursting with anticipation. He wanted to let it all flood out, but Glenna had started in as soon as they were seated.

  “ What happened to your head?”

  “ Bad guy hit me. He got away.”

  “ But you’ll catch him, won’t you?” she said, pride evident in her voice.

  “ I’ll catch him, because that’s what I do,” he said, bragging a little.

  “ I’m changing my major to police science,” she said. “There’s no future in psychology, unless I go on to a masters or a doctorate.” Her words were like a slap.

  “ Honey, I want you to do whatever you want. I’ll always stand behind you, you know that. But, police science? There’s no future there, except the police force.”

  “ Exactly. That’s what I want. I want to be a cop, a good cop. Like you.”

  Emotionally he was torn. Glenna wanting to follow in his footsteps caused a sudden welling up of pride, but the danger of police work brought up fear as well. If anything ever happened to his daughter again, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

  “ Darling, are you sure it’s what you want? You know cops don’t make any money. Not compared to the white collar guys. Heck, even the crooks make more than we do.”

  “ Dad, you’re not going to try and talk me out of this, are you?”

  “ When have I ever been able to talk you out of anything?” He saw the determined set of her jaw. It was true, when her mind was made up, it was locked and there was no key.

  “ Well, I’m glad, because I really want your support.”

  “ You have it. You’ll always have it.” Then he went on to tell her about the events of the last two days. How he was only still a policeman by a mere thread, but that he didn’t care, because he was finally going to use his law degree. He told her about the hit and run death of David Askew, the shots in the alley, the murder of the two attorneys and the policeman in the jail, the attack on himself and Walker in Huntington Beach, the wounding of Walker, how he banged up his head and skinned his hand and Walker’s offer of a job.

  “ I’m sorry about Walker, but glad that you’re going to be doing something you want to be doing,” she said when he’d finished, “but that means if I want to follow in your footsteps, I’ll have to go to law school,” she said.

  “ You should ask yourself a serious question. Do you want to be a cop because you want to be a cop, or because I’m a cop. Because if it’s the latter, I really think you ought to reconsider. Don’t get me wrong, for years it was good to me and I suppose if I could just knuckle under and do things by the book, it would keep on being good to me, but I can’t. I have to do things my way.”

  “ I thought I knew what I wanted. I’m not so sure now. I just know I hate psych.”

  “ Then find something you like, or better yet, take a break, drop your classes and go to Europe for the rest of the summer. I’ll pay for it.”

  “ Dad, you’re the greatest, but I don’t want a break. I want a direction and I like to finish what I start. I may hate psych and it may only be summer school, but I’ll finish the classes. Besides, a little training in psychology might be good for a policewoman.” She laughed.

  He laughed with her and wondered if he would be laughing as easily with Jane tonight. With the department no longer between them, they might be able to work everything out. He should have realized it sooner, maybe then they wouldn’t have separated, but now everything was going to be okay. They’d be together again.

  Then his dreams of family were shattered as he saw Jane, arm and arm with a well dressed man in his late forties or early fifties. They were laughing as they made their way to the exit, talking easily, like two people used to being together, like two people familiar with each other. He had forgotten that this was Jane’s favorite Italian restaurant, too.

  He must have scowled, or maybe the pain in his eyes had shown through, because Glenna sensed that his mood had changed and she turned her head to follow his gaze.

  “ I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know they’d be here.”

  “ I didn’t know she was seeing anybody,” he said, but he should have. Jane was still attractive and they had been separated for a long time. How long did he expect her to wait before he got his act together?

  “ Really? It’s not a secret. Everybody knows how serious they are.”

  “ I didn’t, but I guess I haven’t been paying much attention lately.”

  “ She’s going to ask you for a divorce. They want to be married. He’s very nice and I’m happy for her.”

  Her words cut like a straight razor, but he did his best not to let the blood show.

  “ I have an idea,” he said. “Can you take a week off work and school?”

  “ I guess they’d give it to me and I can make the school work up easily. Why?”

  He told her about Walker offering him a job and about how he was going to quit the force. “So,” he continued, “I kind of thought with Walker in the hospital, that maybe I could use a partner on this Jim Monday investigation. It wouldn’t be dangerous and you could get a close up look at how boring an investigation really is. See if this is the kind of work you want to do for the rest of your life.”

  “ Oh, Dad, I’d love that, love it, love it, love it.” She scooted out from her chair, came around the table and hugged him. “I’ll go and call in right now,” she said as soon as they broke the embrace.

  “ It can wait till after lunch,” he said.

  “ Oh, no it can’t. I’m not going to give you a chance to change your mind.”

  Forty minutes later-after a lecture about how ninety-five percent of investigative work is research, four percent informants and one percent luck-they were walking up the stairway to her second floor apartment.

  “ Hey, before I pack a bag,” Glenna said, “why don’t I do a Google search on our Dr. Kohler?”

  “ Why didn’t I think of that?” Washington said, impressed.

  “ If I don’t find anything there, I’ll check the index to the
L.A. Times.” She booted up her laptop.

  “ Paydirt,” she said after only a few minutes. “Look at this obit in the Milestones section. It happened ten years ago, but I think it’s relevant.”

  Washington read over her shoulder:

  Died. George J. Greenwald, 53, Plastic Surgeon; from injuries received in a hit and run auto accident; in San Diego, California. Dr. Greenwald, known as the plastic surgeon of the stars was a prominent figure in California politics and society. His death follows that of his wife, Lillian and oldest daughter, Margot, only a year ago, in a similar hit and run accident, in Del Mar, California. The gruesome coincidence is nothing more than that, a coincidence, say the police. His surviving daughter, Jill, married to Greenwald’s, assistant Dr. Bernd Kohler, is the only heir to a fortune estimated to be in the millions.

  “ Isn’t that curious?” he said. “It seems that our good doctor has been the fortunate beneficiary of an unfortunate hit and run in the past. I wonder what happened to the wife?”

  A few minutes later Glenna found out.

  She died in a fire, but not before leaving the bulk of the estate that she had inherited from her father to the Foundation for the Junior Blind.

  “ Her father isn’t dead a year and his wife goes to bed with a cigarette and burns herself up.”

  “ What else?” he asked, a grin on his face.

  “ Dr. Kohler didn’t get the money.”

  “ And what does that tell you?”

  “ That she didn’t want him to have it.”

  “ And why not?”

  “ Maybe she didn’t love him?”

  “ Or?”

  “ Maybe she suspected he had something to do with the accident that killed her father?”

  “ Why?”

  “ Maybe she thought that it was a little fishy, her father dying the same way her mother and sister did.”

  “ And maybe he tried to kill Jim Monday the same way,” he said.

  “ Then you have him. This is all the proof you need.”

  “ Not by a long shot,” he said. “All we have here is tragic coincidence, not proof.”

  “ Then what are we going to do?”

  “ Get the proof. That’s what an investigator does.” He printed out the story, then said, “I think it’s time we called Walker.”

  Washington picked up the phone and called the hospital. He glanced at his watch while the switchboard operator put him through. When he finally got Walker on the line he spoke quickly, telling him what they had learned.

  “ Good work.” Walker sounded tired over the phone. “Have you seen the news?”

  Washington said he hadn’t and Walker told him about the latest developments. Two new dead men, attributed to Monday. His wife’s twin and a woman, named Edna Lambert, missing. The media calling Monday a serial killer.

  “ Find him,” Walker said. “Find him and clear him before someone puts a bullet in him.”

  “ I’ll do my level best,” Washington said.

  “ And take care,” Walker said before hanging up.

  “ What do we do now?” Glenna asked.

  “ We drive to Lakewood and pay a visit to Jim Monday’s mother-in-law.”

  “ Why?”

  “ I’ll fill you in on the way.”

  He finished the telling just as he was nosing into the driveway of a quiet house in a quiet residential neighborhood. The front yard was surrounded by a two foot hedge, there was a tire swing hanging from a giant shade tree in the front yard. The house was white, the shutters orange, the color of flames. It was a cheerful looking place and with a park across the street, a good place to bring up children.

  He opened the door and got out, wondering, as he always did, how to handle the questioning. Glenna followed as he mounted the front porch. He pushed the bell and a tall patrician looking woman answered. Her blue rinsed hair and no nonsense makeup told him there was only one tack to take with this lady. The truth. She would see through anything else.

  He introduced himself as a police officer and showed her his badge. She introduced herself as Jean Barnes and she kept a poker face when he asked if she had seen the news.

  “ No, I seldom watch it in the afternoon. A thirty minute dose at 6:30 every night is quite enough, don’t you think?”

  “ More than enough. Too much, probably.” He smiled at her, then launched in with his story. “I’m going to be straight with you,” he said, “because I don’t have time to beat around the bush. Right now I’m a police officer. Tomorrow I probably won’t be. And this young lady is my daughter, Glenna.”

  “ I don’t understand.”

  “ Please let me finish.”

  “ I’m all ears.”

  “ My partner and I were across the street when David Askew was killed.” He went on to tell her everything he could think of concerning the events of the last two days, including how Walker had employed him to clear Jim Monday.

  “ You know,” she said, when he finished, “Jim and I have never been close. A personality conflict, I guess, but I know him well and I’ll tell you one thing. He didn’t do any of what they say he did.”

  “ That’s what we’re trying to prove. That’s why I need to talk to him.”

  “ Why don’t we go in and call him?”

  “ You know where he is?”

  “ Of course, Roma called me about an hour ago. We talk almost every day. They’re on their way to Tampico. Right now they’re in Collinga, half way to San Francisco. They’re staying at that beef ranch, the one with a little airport. I can’t remember the name.”

  “ Harris Ranch?” Glenna asked.

  “ That’s the one. They call it an inn, but it’s really a motel, but a very fancy one. It’s a wonderful place to go and get away from it all.”

  Hugh looked at his daughter with raised eyebrows.

  “ Mom and I drove to San Francisco last month. We stopped there for lunch. They have the world’s best beef.”

  “ I thought you were a vegetarian?”

  “ Most of the time,” she said with a wink.

  “ Let’s go inside,” Jean Barnes interrupted, “and I’ll call him up.”

  They followed her into the neatly kept house and stood by as she dialed. She reached the Inn but there was no answer in their rooms.

  “ They’re probably in the restaurant,” she said.

  “ Mrs. Barnes, I think it’s best if I go up there and I think Glenna should stay with you till I get back.”

  “ No way. I’m going with you,” Glenna said.

  “ Do you think it’s dangerous?” Jean Barnes asked.

  “ No, and no,” he said. “I want you here in case she gets through to Monday,” he told his daughter. “And I don’t think it’s dangerous. They’re far out of harm’s way out there in the middle of nowhere.”

  “ Young man,” Jean Barnes said, “I’m perfectly capable of getting a hold of my son-in-law. I’ll call every half hour if I have to. Take your daughter with you if it’s not dangerous. You said you wanted to show her what it’s like to be a cop. Well, show her.”

  “ I was just afraid-”

  “ I know,” she cut him off, “you were afraid that after he talked to me, he’d run away. Well don’t worry, he won’t. We may have our differences, but he knows I’d never lie to him. I’ll tell him you’re trying to help. He’ll be waiting for you when you get there. Gratefully, I’m sure.”

  “ I’m sorry, it’d be better if you didn’t call. If you’re wrong and he bolts, it could be catastrophic.”

  “ How do you figure?”

  “ If he runs into another cop, one who doesn’t believe he’s innocent-and right now I’m about the only one looking for him who thinks he is-and that cop shoots first-” he let the sentence hang.

  “ I understand. I won’t call.”

  He wanted to stay longer and question the woman further. He wanted to find out everything he could about Jim Monday, but there wasn’t time. He wanted to leave Glenna with her, because he was
afraid that it might, indeed, be dangerous. Trouble seemed to be following Monday, but he wanted to justify Walker’s faith in him as quickly as possible. He needed that job. It would allow him to quit the department with dignity. So he agreed with her and took his daughter, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

  Chapter Eight

  Jim Monday was ripped from sleep by a rapping that knocked through him like gunfire. Someone was at the door.

  “ What?” He jumped out of bed, fighting to see in the dark and losing the battle. The rapping continued. “Who is it?” he said loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door, half expecting the police.

  “ It’s Edna.” Jim heard urgency in her voice.

  “ Just a second.” He jumped into Turnbull’s slacks, threw on his shirt and opened the door, allowing in the light and a pale Edna Lambert, followed by Roma.

  “ It’s all over the television,” Edna blurted out. “They’re calling you a mass murderer. Every policeman in the state is looking for you.”

  “ Slow down.”

  “ Turn on CNN,” Roma said.

  “ Slow down, tell me.” He flipped on the light.

  “ My son came by the house,” Edna said. “When I didn’t answer, he let himself in and found the bodies. He called the police. It’s all on the news.”

  “ Wait a second,” he went to the nightstand, picked up the remote, turned on the television, going through the channels until he found CNN’s Headline News. He didn’t have to wait long for the story.

  The stiff looking newscaster finished a story on Eastern Europe, then went to a commercial. After the break he led with the Jim Monday story.

  “ And now more on the late breaking story from Long Beach, California. CNN has learned that Jim Monday, ex-congressman and millionaire developer is suspected in yesterday’s early morning hit and run death of the famous Los Angeles Attorney, David Askew. That brings to six the number of people Monday has allegedly killed, and still missing are Roma Barnes and Edna Lambert. Their fate is unknown, but in light of Monday’s killing spree, the worst is expected.”