21st Birthday

by James Patterson

  “You totally rock, Yuki. No worries. At all.”

  Chapter 58

  The clerk stood in front of the bench and announced, “The Honorable Vivian Kahn, judge, presiding. Please be seated and come to order.”

  Judge Kahn was in her fifties but looked younger. She had straight, dark, chin-length hair, red-framed glasses, and was looking through them at the charges in front of her.

  She looked up at the attorneys and the defendant before her and said, “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. In the matter of the people of the state of California versus Lucas William Burke. Counsel, your appearances please.”

  “Yuki Castellano for the people,” she introduced herself to the court.

  “Your Honor, good afternoon. Newton Gardner, attorney on behalf of Lucas William Burke, who’s present in custody before the court.”

  “Very good. Ms. Castellano, are you ready to proceed?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. At this time the people would file with this court a two-count complaint against Lucas Burke, this defendant. Both charges are murder in the first degree as well as special circumstances pursuant to penal code regarding the willful death of a tender age child. That child is the defendant’s daughter. A baby just over sixteen months in age.”

  Judge Kahn asked Yuki, “Have you advised the defendant of his constitutional rights?”

  Yuki said, “Yes, Your Honor, and the arresting police officers, Lieutenant Jackson Brady and Sergeant Lindsay Boxer of the SFPD Southern Station, also advised Mr. Lucas Burke of his constitutional rights when he was arrested.”

  “Mr. Gardner, has your client signed and produced the form to that effect?”

  Gardner said, “Your Honor, we received the copy of the complaint late yesterday afternoon. It is about fifteen pages. My office would like to look at it more closely to make a decision regarding if the defense would like to request a continuance.”

  “Ms. Castellano, do you wish to respond?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. The people would certainly object to the request for a continuance. The defendant put forth an opposing theory of the crimes, and our police department, in conjunction with other police departments, have spent the last three days investigating the defendant’s theory and finding no evidence to support it whatsoever.”

  “The theory being?” the judge asked Yuki.

  “The defendant said that he didn’t commit the crime, that someone else did. The prosecution would suggest that this alternate theory of the crimes be presented in court to a jury, and furthermore, Your Honor, this is a mandatory filing. It’s mandated by the code.”

  Judge Kahn agreed with the prosecution and asked, “Are there any other issues that need to be addressed at this time, counsel?”

  Yuki said, “For the record, Your Honor, we should address the issue of bail.”

  “All right,” Kahn said, removing her glasses, letting them fall to the length of the chain she wore around her neck. “As I understand penal code section 1270.5, the defendant is not entitled to bail because of the nature of the charges, most specifically the ‘special circumstances’ regarding the baby. Do you wish to be heard on the matter of bail, Mr. Gardner?”

  Gardner seemed utterly confident that he would win his point.

  “Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Burke is an outstanding citizen, and even counsel for the People would admit that they have no direct evidence against him. They have a theory that this man killed his wife and child. In fact, nothing could be farther from the truth. He is a minute away from a nervous breakdown over the loss of his family.”

  Kahn said, “Okay, that’s enough, Mr. Gardner.”

  “Ms. Castellano, you have something to add?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Burke is a flight risk. When the police searched his apartment, Mr. Burke took the opportunity to leave town. The people cannot take a chance that he will do so again.”

  The judge said, “Mr. Burke, how do you plead?”

  “Not guilty, Your Honor. May I speak?”

  “Save it for your trial, Mr. Burke.”

  “Your Honor, I didn’t do it.”

  “Okeydoke,” said Kahn. “Based on the language of the referenced section of the penal code and the allegations as to the special circumstances, the court finds that the defendant is not entitled to bail and will be remanded to the Men’s Jail at the Hall of Justice for trial. To be held, let’s see, in three months. The precise date will be forthcoming.”

  The clerk called the next case and Yuki headed toward the doors at the rear of the courtroom. Chief Charlie Clapper was standing in the aisle as Yuki and Deirdre headed to the door. Clapper touched her shoulder and said, “Well done.”

  Yuki thanked him before she was carried along by the force of the crowd behind her.

  As her husband—and her intern—had predicted, Yuki rocked.

  And she glowed.

  Chapter 59

  Cindy had been standing in the narrow space behind the last row of seats in Courtroom 2C, with a view over the heads of the spectators in the gallery.

  As soon as Judge Kahn denied bail for Burke, Cindy left the courtroom and stationed herself in the corridor so that she faced the double door. Her pal and cameraman, Jonathan Samuels, stood right behind her and was already shooting video to capture the flow of people in the corridor.

  Cindy fluffed her hair, straightened her collar, pressed her lips together.

  In seconds Yuki would be there. In Cindy’s opinion, Yuki had handled her part like the pro she was. In the process she had steamrolled Newt Gardner and had walked away with the win.

  Now the courtroom doors opened and the fresh tide of people coming out blocked Cindy’s view. She looked up at Samuels, who was a head taller than she.

  “Jonny.”

  “Shove your way in. I got you.”

  Cindy cut through the crowd, spotted Yuki, and called her name.

  Yuki turned to Cindy and grinned. They put up their right hands and slapped them together. Samuels held up his fingers, folding them in one at a time. Five, four, three . . .

  Then Cindy said, “We have with us Assistant District Attorney Yuki Castellano, who has just presented charges against Lucas Burke, English teacher at Sunset Park Prep, and accused murderer of his wife and child. Mr. Burke’s request for bail was denied by Judge Vivian Kahn. Mr. Burke has been bound over until his trial. Ms. Castellano, a comment please for our readers.”

  “Sure, Cindy. In brief, it was a good day for the people of—” She didn’t get to finish. Kathleen Wyatt came through the courtroom doors, manic, wild-eyed, wearing a cap over her hair, a red tunic over her tights. She threw her arms around Yuki, saying, “Ms. Castellano, thank you, thank you!”

  She collapsed against Yuki and was crying on her shoulder.

  Cindy stepped in and said, “Kathleen, it’s me, Cindy Thomas. Do you wish to make a statement on camera?”

  Kathleen nodded her head vigorously, mopped her eyes with the back of her hands as Yuki slipped away through the crowd.

  Cindy said, “I have with me Kathleen Wyatt, mother of Tara Burke, and grandmother of Lorrie Burke. Kathleen?”

  Cindy put the mic up to the distraught woman’s face.

  “I want to say that though Tara will never see her twenty-first birthday, and Lorrie will never reach her second, I’m happy to see Lucas Burke has been locked up. That’s all. And to thank the SFPD and the district attorney’s office for everything they did.”

  Samuels shut down the camera as Cindy ended her conversation with the woman in red.

  Once Kathleen walked out, Cindy said, “Wow. I couldn’t have planned that. Do we have something we can use? I know. I’ll call Yuki if needed and we can do a solo shot out on the street.”

  She saw Newt Gardner leaving the courtroom, winning attitude on display, reporters bunching up around him.

  He stopped walking and addressed the press.

  “Folks, what you’ve just seen is a classic example of lazy police work, a rush to judgment. My client
has suffered an unspeakable loss, and he has pleaded ‘not guilty’ to the charges. Mr. Burke has been falsely accused and we will prove this in court. Like all citizens, my client will have a trial and be judged by his peers.

  “That’s all. Thank you.”

  Samuels said to Cindy, “Now, that’s a wrap.”

  Chapter 60

  I left the courtroom, taking the fire stairs to escape the mobbed corridor and caught up with Yuki on the second-floor landing.

  My hug caught her by surprise and almost threw us both down the staircase. I grabbed a bannister to stop our fall, then we both started laughing.

  “High heels are no joking matter,” she said, shaking her finger at me.

  “Sor-ry,” I said. “Yuki, you were great. You made that newt look like a worm.”

  “Hah! Well either way, he didn’t get Burke bonded out. Did you see Brady in the gallery?” she asked.

  “I didn’t, but let’s go see him now.”

  Yuki looked at her watch. “Sure. Okay.”

  She took off her shoes and—holding them in one hand, other hand on the bannister—we climbed to the fourth floor. I could see from the entrance to the squad room that Brady was in the house and he wasn’t alone.

  “There’s Cindy,” Yuki said, “and her photographer. I’m gonna duck out. Best if she interviews Brady without me. What if we meet at MacBain’s after work and talk over bottomless beer?”

  “Brilliant,” I said.

  MacBain’s, the after-work beer-and-burger joint, couldn’t be more convenient for me, Yuki, and Claire, and a short cab ride away for Cindy.

  By six, Claire, Yuki, and I had taken the table against the wall between the front window and the old-timey juke box. Claire had pulled up Cindy’s front page story on her phone and was reading it aloud for Yuki’s enjoyment. I remarked that Cindy was late as always, which was her cue to blow in through the front door.

  She swung her eyes around ninety degrees before spotting us waving to her. She was loaded down with bags: purse, laptop, police scanner, and a video camera. Took her a couple minutes to settle down.

  Sydney MacBain brought Cindy a Sam Adams and refilled the bowl of chips.

  “Yuki,” said Syd. “I just heard. Congrats.”

  “Thanks. It’s just step one, but at least Burke’s locked up.”

  We toasted Yuki, then my friends toasted me. We drank long and deep, and after putting down my mug, I said, “Remember when life was normal?” I put air quotes around “normal,” but I was feeling it. “Weekends off. Actual time to read a book, take a run. Play the guitar.”

  The girls looked at me like I was out of my mind.

  “What’d I say?”

  Claire said, “When was the last time you played the guitar, sweetie?”

  “Well. I may be rusty, but I still know how.”

  The girls laughed, but Claire laughed the loudest because she knows how long—years and years.

  I think Yuki was laugh-coughing into her beer when a shadow fell across the table. I looked up and did a double take. It was my husband, Joe. He never comes to MacBain’s, and yet here he was.

  “Is Julie okay?” I said, immediately concerned.

  “She’s fine. She’s in the car with Mrs. Rose,” he said. He greeted my friends, then said, “Hon, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “Joe. Our phones off rule.”

  He seemed amused, but there was something else in his expression I couldn’t quite read. Like he had something big by the tail.

  He said, “Got a second? I need to talk to you. Outside.”

  “Uh-oh. Okay.” I looked around the table and said, “I guess I’ll be going.” I put ten bucks on the table and followed Joe out. He held the door open, and when we were on the sidewalk said, “I just heard from Berney.”

  Chapter 61

  Joe had parked his car at the far corner of the block.

  He unlocked the doors with his remote and I saw Julie and Mrs. Rose in the back seat. Mrs. Mooey Milkington was lying across Julie’s knees, and she was wearing headphones, her attention fixed on her tablet and a game in progress. She looked up when I opened the door and reached for her.

  “Mom. Don’t. I’m countin’ chick’ns.”

  This video game had become an obsession, but, I thought, a harmless one. I said, “Okay, okay.”

  I kissed my hand, tapped the top of Julie’s head, and waggled my fingers in greeting at Mrs. Rose.

  “Thanks, Gloria.”

  She winked at me and said, “Happy to do it.”

  “Joe,” I said softly. “What did Berney say?”

  “Quite a lot, Linds. Almost too much.”

  “I’m braced. Now, talk.”

  “Don’t rush me. I’m speaking from memory.”

  “Sor-ry.”

  “Okay. First thing. Berney said that Evan Burke changed his name to Jake Winslow about fifteen years ago, after his wife and daughter disappeared. The three of them had been living in Marin County. Lucas had already left home.”

  “Gone to college, you mean.”

  “And grad school.”

  “So, after the wife and daughter go missing, presumed dead, Lucas’s father sells the four-bedroom house with an ocean view and moves to parts unknown. He’s just been located in the Mount Tam area where, Berney says, he’s created a life for himself off the grid. Damned few records of him using either name. He’s a cash-only kind of guy.”

  I thought if Burke didn’t want to be found, living off the grid was the way to go. Mill Valley is upscale but if you keep driving north, you reach the smaller communities in the woods surrounding Mount Tamalpais. A lot of free thinkers from the sixties and seventies live there so as not to leave establishment footprints.

  Joe said, “Google Earth has never recorded his place, but from drone shots on file, Berney ID’d Burke’s house in the woods. Look here,” he said, showing me his phone. “Cabin at the end of a deer track leading to the front door.”

  “Hunh. Not much to it.”

  “Right. There are several of these hunting-type cabins in the area. No addresses. If Burke gets mail, it goes to the Mill Valley PO. And get this: The former Evan Burke had some work done on his face.”

  I said, “Why would he do that and move to a remote place like this? Sure sounds like he’s on the run to me. There a picture of Evan Burke’s new face?”

  “I sent it to you, Blondie,” my husband said. “You’ll get it when you turn on your phone.”

  “Thanks,” I said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. I took my phone out of my breast pocket.

  “Hmmm,” I said, staring at a candid shot of a man crossing a street under slanting sunlight—somewhere. He was good-looking but unremarkable.

  I said, “No distinguishing features that I can see. Around six feet. Full head of dark hair. He looks younger than—what? He’s got to be sixty.”

  “That’s right. Might color his hair to go with his unlined new face.”

  “What kind of vehicle does he have?”

  “He had a cabin cruiser at one time,” Joe said. “The type you could live on. He might still have it.”

  I said, “Gotta give the guy an ‘A’ for getting away from it all. What do you think, Joe? Is he escaping his grief, reinventing himself? Or is he a killer in hiding?”

  Joe said, “But, here’s why this couldn’t wait, Lindsay. Berney says Burke usually makes a move after a kill. He could be getting ready to take off about now, or may already be gone. That’s all Berney’s got.”

  I said, “So, a career killer in hiding and now on the move.”

  “All we know or think we know is that he’s breathing free air. Right now you might get the jump on him. He won’t be expecting the SFPD.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll share with the boss. Thanks for doing this, Joe.”

  “Happy to do it. Maybe one day you can thank Berney.”

  With the comforting sound of electronic chickens clucking in the back seat, I slid closer to Joe, put my arms ar
ound his neck, and kissed his cheek.

  I asked the little chicken counter in the back seat for a kiss and said thanks and good-bye to Mrs. Rose.

  “You’re too farrrrr.”

  I got out of the car, opened the back door, said, “I’m leaving now, Bugs.”

  She threw her little arms around my neck and gave me a kiss.

  “Be careful,” Joe said. “Assume he’s a psychopath with a vengeance.”

  “I’m just going to see Brady.” I patted my holster. “See you in a bit.”

  I walked back into the Hall and up to our department. Brady was on the phone when I slipped into the seat across from his desk.

  He said into the mouthpiece, “Love you, too.”

  After he hung up with Yuki, I spent ten minutes briefing him on the news from Joe’s mysterious CI.

  Brady said, “We have to check it out. Tell all of this to Conklin. I need to make some calls.”

  Chapter 62

  Rich Conklin was working alone at his desk.

  I dropped into the swivel chair that had molded itself to my weight and shape over the years. Then, I stuck out my arm and swept all of Sonia Alvarez’s things aside; sunglasses, thermos, stack of papers, glass paperweight, a number of pens. Then I folded my arms over the space I’d made for myself.

  I looked up to see Conklin grinning.

  “What?”

  “I think you’d like her if you gave her a chance.”

  “You’re talking crazy, Richie. I like her fine. She’s been here for what? A week? I’ll take her to lunch, okay? I just need room to spread out.”

  “She’s so excited about our everyday—”

  “Our everyday is about to get more intense.” I looked at my watch, then back to Richie. “Soon.”

  “Tell me.”

  I told him everything that Joe had told me, except the name of his source. I told him about Evan Burke changing his name and face, the warning from Joe’s CI that Burke was on the move, that we had nothing on him except Lucas Burke’s untested and self-serving theory that his father was a mass murderer.