Last Man's Head

by Philip Cox

‘Okay. Well, thanks for all you did, Liza.’

  ‘You’re welcome. See you around. Good luck with that lot.’ She indicated to the pile of files on his desk. ‘But check your emails first.’

  With that she left him alone at his desk. He sat down and logged on his computer. Went to his emails. Trawled down to one Domingo sent ten minutes earlier. Clicked to open it. There was one short line of text: nothing on google re mason, and an attachment, which he opened right away.

  It opened to details of the house they visited earlier that day. It looked as if Domingo had highlighted the name of the owner.

  ‘Oh. My. God,’ Leroy whispered.

  THIRTY-ONE

  LEROY REACHED ACROSS the desk for his cell phone. He was just about to dial when Perez appeared at his desk, clutching a sheet of paper. He put the phone down and looked up at the lieutenant.

  ‘Sorry, Sam,’ said Perez. ‘I know I said write up the John Does by two but something has come up, and everybody else is out. It appears quite straightforward; don’t think you’ll need backup for now.’

  ‘For now?’ asked Leroy.

  ‘This is the deal,’ explained Perez. ‘A report’s come in of a stabbing over at Grand Central Market. It was reported about forty minutes ago. Uniform are there and have sealed off the area and one of the CSIs is there.’

  Leroy raised his eyebrows. ‘Already?’

  ‘Apparently. Anyway, the sooner they can get started on the scene the sooner they can hand it over to you. Just get down there and co-ordinate the non-science stuff. The two patrolmen have already started talking to witnesses: I need you to wrap things up there. If it turns out you do need any backup, then call in. I’ll partner you myself if need be.’ Perez handed Leroy the call-in sheet, and returned to his office. Leroy read through it: it was just as the lieutenant had said. He picked up his phone, put on his coat and left, in a hurry. The call to Domingo could wait.

  *****

  In the minds of many Angelenos, what you eat is as important as what you drive, in terms of sophistication, and concern over what other people think. The Grand Central Market on South Broadway is a refreshing taste of simpler times and cuisine. First and foremost, it is a collection of outlets for LA’s many varied ethnic groups, but is also popular for celebrity chefs and the artists of all kinds. Always busy, when Leroy arrived, it was deserted. A small crowd of passers-by and would-be shoppers was gathered in the main entrance. Yellow tape prevented entry, and a uniformed officer was chatting to some of them.

  Leroy stepped over the tape, waved his identification to the officer, and stepped inside. As he walked through the market, it was eerily quiet. He had been here many times, through work and as a shopper, and never failed to be amazed at the variety of produce that could be found here. As he walked down the first aisle, past a tortilleria, past a stall selling apples of varying sizes and shades of red, yellow and green. The next stall sold peppers, types of which he had never heard of. Another uniformed officer was standing at an aisle intersection, below a green neon sign reading La Casa Verde.

  The officer recognized him. ‘Ah, Detective Leroy. I thought it was you. Good to see you again, sir.’

  ‘Officer Blake; good to see you again, too.’ Leroy looked around. ‘Where is everybody? Where’s the crime scene?’

  Officer Blake pointed over to his right. ‘Downstairs in the restrooms, Detective. A guy from the CSI office is there already.’

  ‘Downstairs? Then why’s the whole market closed?’

  ‘No idea, Detective. Sorry.’

  ‘Who’s the senior officer here?’

  ‘That’ll be Sergeant Jackson. He’s down there at the crime scene.’

  ‘All right. Thanks.’ Leroy went past a few more stalls then down the stairs to the restrooms. The door to the men’s room was wedged open, and five uniformed officers were milling around. A figure with white epaulettes whom Leroy recognised as Jackson looked up, finished the conversation he was having with another officer, and met Leroy at the foot of the steps.

  ‘Hey there, Sam,’ said Jackson.

  ‘How you doing, Jacko?’

  ‘Same old, same old. You know the story.’

  ‘Sure. Where’s the body? Men’s room, I guess.’

  ‘No. He’s in the ER over at the Medical Center.’

  Leroy sounded surprised. ‘He’s not dead, then?’

  ‘Wasn’t when he left here. Lost a lot of blood, though. Took a knife just here…’ Jackson indicated to just above his left thigh.

  ‘Where did it happen? In there?’ Leroy and Jackson stepped over to the men’s room.

  ‘That’s right,’ replied Jackson. ‘Take a look.’

  Leroy stepped inside. He was met by a large red viscous pool. The other side of the pool stood a figure wearing a light blue tyvek jumpsuit, rubber gloves, and matching shoe and head covers. He was busy taking photographs of the scene. When he saw Leroy enter, he stopped and gave a small wave.

  ‘Detective Leroy,’ he said across the pool.

  ‘Hey there,’ Leroy replied, recognising the CSI but not being able to recall the name. He thought the guy was new. ‘Any idea what happened?’

  ‘Pretty cut and dried, for lack of a better expression. The guy was standing at the urinal over there, was finishing off, and another guy stabbed him. On his left side.’

  ‘Who put the call in?’

  ‘Not sure. Have a word with Jackson.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks.’ He wandered outside to where Jackson was standing. ‘So what happened exactly, Jacko? And do we really need have the whole market closed? Surely we only need this floor isolated.’

  Jackson nodded. ‘That was a first precaution. I’ve just ordered them to open up again, just keep down here secure. As far as what happened: it seems he was in there taking a piss when another guy stabbed him.’

  ‘Guy?’

  ‘We’re assuming that for now, yes. He must have been lying on the floor there for a while going by the amount of blood on the floor. Someone else came in, saw him, and called 911.’

  ‘Where is he? Whoever made the call.’

  Jackson shrugged. ‘No idea. Left the scene. Disappeared after he called it in.’

  ‘I see. So he could be the suspect also. Why else would he leave the scene?’

  ‘Lots of reasons, Sam. Especially in this part of town. We need to keep an open mind here.’

  ‘I hear you. And now the vic’s over at the MC.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘No other witnesses, I guess.’

  ‘None that we can establish at this time. There’s no CCTV in there of course, but there is a camera up there.’ He pointed to a camera, red light flashing up in the corner.

  ‘Anyone looked at the footage yet?’

  ‘Not yet. Thought we’d leave it to you guys. Where’s your partner, by the way?’

  ‘On honeymoon. Back in a couple of days. Where does the market manager hang out?’

  ‘Office on second floor, I think.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll need to get over to the MC before…’

  ‘Before the guy dies, you mean?’

  ‘Something like that. See what he can tell me. Jacko, can you get one of your guys to get a hold of whatever the camera picked up? Once I’m done at the hospital, I’ll come back and pick up the disc, or whatever it’s stored on.’

  ‘Sure thing, Sam. See you.’

  As he climbed up the stairs and walked back through the market to his car, Leroy tried Domingo’s number. She answered after two rings.

  ‘Hey Sam, how you doing?’

  ‘Good, I guess. Am just down at the Grand Central Market. A stabbing.’

  ‘Swell.’

  ‘Well, this one’s not dead. I’m off to see him at the hospital now. You still at the rape centre?’

  ‘Just winding up here. Now, Sam: did you get to read my email?’

  ‘I did, yes.’

  ‘And the attachment?’

  ‘I saw that too.’

  ‘What d
o you think?’

  ‘I think…. I’m not sure what to think yet.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’ll have to think about it. Perez and the captain have both told me to close down the John Doe cases.’

  ‘What about Bill Farmer?’

  ‘Not spoken to him yet. What about your Griffith Park vic?

  ‘Connor and I have been told the same thing too.’

  ‘I wonder if Farmer has too.’

  ‘He has. According to the lieutenant anyway.’

  Leroy reached his car. Got in and turned the ignition.

  ‘Sam, you still there?’

  ‘Still here. Am in the car now.’

  ‘What do you think we should do?’

  ‘We should do?’

  ‘Yes, we. As soon as I saw who owned the house, I knew we can’t just let it drop.’

  ‘I agree. Yes.’

  ‘So what do you want to do?’

  ‘When does your shift finish, Liza?’

  ‘Six. Why?’

  ‘Let’s get together over a drink, or over a coffee. Agree on what to do.’

  ‘Sounds a plan. Look, Sam, I have to go. We got a call coming in. Have a good day, what’s left of it. See you at six. Right?’

  ‘See you.’

  Leroy took the short drive down to the California Hospital Medical Center. The stabbing victim was still in the ER undergoing emergency surgery. Leroy chatted briefly with one of the doctors.

  ‘How is he, doc?’

  ‘He lost a lot of blood, but the surgery went as expected.’

  ‘Can I talk to him?’

  ‘Sorry, Detective, not right now. He’s sleeping now.’

  ‘Will he be in a position to talk later?’

  ‘Oh, I would think so. Will it keep till the morning?’

  ‘Will have to, I guess.’ He shook hands with the doctor. ‘Well, thanks, doc. Here’s my number. If anything changes…. You know, call me, yes?’

  ‘Sure thing, detective. You have a good day, now.’

  His unproductive trip to the hospital over, Leroy made his way back to the market. Now it had re-opened, it was full of shoppers, making up for lost time. He fought his way through the crowds back to the basement floor. Jackson was at the foot of the stairs again. Through the open men’s room door, Leroy could see somebody inside, cleaning up.

  ‘The camera footage is on its way to you, Sam,’ Jackson said.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘It’s stored digitally, apparently. Not on DVD or tape. The manager said he will email a file with the footage for so far today to you.’

  ‘So I can view it back at the station house?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Jackson replied.

  ‘Wow, isn’t technology wonderful,’ said Leroy.

  ‘How would you know?’ laughed Jackson.

  Leroy laughed. ‘Did anybody get a chance to view it already?’

  ‘None of my guys. The manager might have done.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll check it out at the office. Take it easy, Jacko.’

  ‘You too, Sam.’

  *****

  Back at the HQ, Leroy managed to avoid getting waylaid by his lieutenant and his captain, and logged on. Checked his email inbox. He briefly re-read the one from Domingo, then went on to the only other unread one: from the Grand Central Market manager. Then clicked on the attachment, which was a video file of eight hours footage of market customers going in and out of the restrooms. He fast forwarded to the approximate time of the stabbing. He saw a man walk in, only to run out a few seconds later, clutching a phone. Running, he soon left the camera’s POV.

  Leroy reversed the video slowly. The man ran in backwards, walked out backwards. There was a short gap, then another figure stepped in backwards. Leroy clicked to a frame by frame view and peered closely at the screen to study the image. The figure was of slight build, a dark complexion, but most of his features were hidden by the hood he was wearing. Leroy checked his watch: it was almost five. He kept thinking about what he and Domingo should agree to do, then brought his thoughts back to the present, and whether this person was the stabber.

  He kept the video in reverse frame by frame, and saw the hooded figure back into the men’s room, again a short interval, before he reversed out. Three other men did the same: one of these, Leroy reflected, must have been the victim. But who carried out the stabbing? Was it the figure wearing the hood? Or was it the guy running out?

  He had a craving for caffeine. He visited the restroom and returned to his desk via a vending machine. Carrying a strong black coffee he wandered back to his desk, but was distracted by the sound coming from the end of the corridor, where the lockers were positioned. Or rather, the lack of sound. Frowning, he wandered down to see what was going: it was never this quiet. Around the bank of lockers stood half a dozen of his colleagues, four in uniform. They were talking quietly, and stopped to look up when Leroy arrived. One of the uniformed officers, a woman in her early twenties, looked pale and her eyes were red.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Leroy.

  ‘You obviously haven’t heard,’ one of the uniformed men replied.

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘The call’s just come through,’ the officer said. ‘It’s Detectives Domingo and Connor.’

  ‘What about them?’

  He swallowed. ‘They’ve both been shot. Both killed.’

  THIRTY TWO

  LEROY FELT HIS legs go weak, almost buckle under him. He put his hand on the wall for support. ‘But I was only…. What happened?’ he asked.

  Another male officer spoke. ‘It was this afternoon, Sam. A patrol car noticed their vehicle in a side street, parked with its hood right up against a dead end. They figured everything was okay – you know, that they were handling something. There had been no call for back-up or anything. They passed by the same street an hour or so later. The car was still there, so they decided to check it out.’

  ‘And found what?’ asked Leroy, straightening up.

  The officer swallowed first, then replied. ‘They found both Detectives Domingo and Connor in the front seats, each with a gunshot wound to the head.’

  ‘Both dead on the scene?’ Leroy asked. ‘You know, sometimes in the heat of the moment, you make an assumption -’

  ‘The officers checked for vital signs, Sam. There were none.’

  Leroy looked around. ‘Where’s Perez?’

  ‘The lieutenant’s gone down to the crime scene,’ replied the officer, ‘with the captain.’

  ‘What about the officers who found them?’ Leroy asked.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ the officer replied. ‘I think they might still be at the scene. The captain and lieutenant will want to speak with them.’

  I’m sure they will.’ Leroy ran his hand through his hair as he spoke. ‘Somebody else will, I’m sure.’

  ‘What do you mean, Sam?’ asked the officer.

  ‘For a start, I will. Then the investigation will be passed to another Division. Standard procedure.’ Leroy sat down on a desk and paused a moment. Then asked, ‘Where did it happen?’

  ‘I’m not sure… I don’t…,’ the officer stammered. He looked around at his colleagues. Anybody know?’

  ‘Anybody know?’ repeated Leroy, addressing the half dozen officers milling around.

  ‘I know,’ a female officer called from the back. She stepped nearer to Leroy as she spoke. ‘It was a side street off Erwin.’

  Leroy frowned. ‘Erwin? Where’s that?’

  Another officer spoke. ‘It’s North Hollywood. Just off Lankershim before it hits Victory Boulevard.’

  ‘What in the hell were they doing up there?’ Leroy asked, posing the question out loud to himself more than the other officers.

  There was a general mumbling and shaking of heads. Nobody could answer him.

  Leroy spoke again. ‘When we spoke around midday, they were off to the Rape Crisis Center. Where’s that? UCLA isn’t it?’ The female officer
nodded. ‘So,’ Leroy went on, ‘they must have either not gone to the RCC, or headed up there as soon as they were done. Let’s give the Center a call – see if they actually showed.’

  ‘We would have heard if they hadn’t, Sam,’ said the first officer. ‘They wouldn’t leave a victim just waiting indefinitely.’

  ‘No, you’re right. I just can’t -’

  Leroy was interrupted as the doors opened and Lieutenant Perez walked in, some two steps behind Captain Patterson. The captain just walked through the room, not speaking to the officers. His eyes darted to Leroy’s as he passed, but he said nothing. With a grim expression on his face, he went straight into his office, and closed the door. Perez, however, stopped and addressed the officers.

  ‘Guys: just a few words. By now, you all know about the tragic circumstances concerning Detectives Domingo and Connor.’ He paused. ‘The investigation into their slayings is being carried out by officers from the Major Crimes Division, and I’m sure you are as confident as the captain and I are that they will leave no stone unturned until they bring the perpetrators to book.’ He paused again. ‘Once the necessary, er – arrangements have been made, I will update you all. Now please return to your duties, as I’m sure Detectives Domingo and Connor would have done.’

  The officers started to make their way out. Perez turned to Leroy. ‘I’m glad you’re here. Come in, will you.’ He stepped into his office; Leroy followed. ‘Close the door, Sam, will you.’

  Leroy gently closed the glass door and turned to the lieutenant.

  Perez collapsed into his chair and leaned forward onto the desk. ‘Great start to my first day.’

  ‘Not so great for Domingo and Connor,’ replied Leroy as he sat down.

  Perez looked up. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I don’t know.’

  Leroy spoke softly. ‘What exactly happened, Roman? What the hell were they doing up in North Hollywood? I spoke to Liza around midday and she said she was off to see someone at the Rape Crisis Center. And that’s in UCLA.’

  Perez shook his head slowly. ‘I don’t know at this time, Sam. They went to the Center. Liza spoke to a rape victim there. That took about an hour, according to the Center manager.’

  ‘Any record of a call they might have received? What about the GPS record for their car?’