Laugher Page 7
“We’re renewing it. You gonna help us?”
“Show me a county paycheck and I’ll consider.”
“If you’re unwilling to cooperate...”
“That implies that I have anything to cooperate with.”
Grayson looked at me like someone who knows something, and it startled me inside. “I think you do,” he said.
My omelet still wasn’t finished, but I had lost my appetite. I pushed it aside. “I hardly had time to blink before you two got involved.”
“Tell us the hardly part then. Yesterday you said you were at the police administration building.”
“I was talking to my friend Gordy Barnes. Works on the sixth floor. Asked him to try and get me a copy of the manifest from Denny’s flight, but he wasn’t able to. I’m sure if you tried to obtain it on the grounds of a murder investigation, you’d have more luck. I gave him the flight info, so you can get it from him.”
Grayson pulled a pen from his jacket and wrote Gordy’s name on a napkin. I gave him Gordy’s phone number and he wrote that down too. “What else?”
“Denny used to live here in L.A. about seven or eight years ago.”
“Where?”
“Place out in Silver Lake. Nobody there now remembers him.”
Grayson looked up at me. “Where was Denny staying? Or going to stay when he got in?”
“The Rashi Hotel on Sunset.”
“Anybody with him?”
Do I tell them about Nora? I was the only person she knew in L.A., but if she started talking to the cops, it could put her in danger with who actually killed Slavas. Or worse, who killed Silvio.
“No,” I said and sipped my coffee the way you do when someone’s lying. “But there was someone there.”
“What do you mean?”
“I went to check the place out the day Slavas hired me. I didn’t find anything, but I met a man named James Lawson. He was staying a couple rooms down from where Denny was booked. Told me he was here on business from Tennessee and asked if I wouldn’t mind showing him around town.”
They were looking at me like a couple of bored kindergarteners at story time.
“Anyway. The next morning, I spotted him in his car by the club just before Slavas was found.”
They both perked up a little. “Why didn’t you tell us this before, Santone?” said Marber.
“Guess I forgot.”
He glared at me and sat back again.
“Was it a rental? The car?” said Grayson.
“Must have been. Had California plates and he’s in from Tennessee.”
“Get the number?”
“No.”
“Dealer?”
“No.”
“You talk to him?”
“Course not, he was passing in the opposite lane. He didn’t see me.”
The waitress came by and picked up my unfinished plate.
“That’s all I got, fellas,” I said.
They stood up. They both kept their eyes on me and Grayson smiled that signature smile.
“Well, Santone. Thank you so much for your generous cooperation. Please let us know if you remember anything else that could help us. And have a lovely day.”
They were gone so fast, they didn’t give me a chance to say my sarcastic thank you. Oh well. Maybe next time.
I drank another cup of coffee wondering if I should have told them about Nora. But I had to protect her. I had to keep her away from them, from everybody.
---------------------------------
As I left the restaurant with the police report under my arm, I lit up the first cig of the day. My phone rang from a number I didn’t recognize. I hoped for a second that it was Charlotte calling from her sister’s place, but the area code was out of state.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Detective,” said a female voice. “It’s Nora Massey.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. “Good morning.”
“I was wondering if I could speak to you.”
“Of course. When?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’ll come by the hotel.”
“Actually, I’m not at the hotel. I had to get out for some fresh air. I’m at the UCLA campus. Took a cab.”
“No fresh air closer to the hotel?”
“At the inverted fountain.”
“I can be there in ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” She hung up. I left after finishing my cigarette, and lit another in the car.
On the way, I called Gordy’s house, but he didn’t answer. Called his cell, same thing. It was Saturday and his boys probably had a game. I left a voicemail giving him a heads up about Grayson paying him a visit.
Nora was seated on the edge of the inverted fountain. She was in minimal make up and eating a stale cheese Danish from the vending machine. The occasional student walked by with their bag slung over one shoulder.
She stood when she saw me approaching and her eyes greeted me with a slight squint, as if they were smiling when her mouth couldn’t.
“Hello, detective,” she said.
“Miss Massey.”
“I thought I told you to call me Nora.”
“Never while I’m working.”
She half-smiled.
“Why did you call me?” I asked.
She reached into her purse and retrieved her iPhone. “When I woke up this morning, I saw this.”
On the screen was a text message. It read: “In SD with Barry. r u ok? – Denny.” The time stamp said it was sent last night at 12:24 AM.
“Who’s Barry?” I said.
“I don’t know.” Nora said. She threw away the rest of her Danish.
“Denny seems to think you do. Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ve never heard of him. Maybe he’s a friend.”
“Maybe this isn’t from Denny.”
“It is. His phone has a lock on it with a password. No one can turn it on except him.”
I read it again. “SD...”
“San Diego.” Nora said.
“What’s for Denny in San Diego?”
“I don’t know.”
“Write him back and ask what the hell he’s doing down there.”
“I did. Called too. Haven’t heard back.”
I sat down. She joined me. We thought silently for a minute.
“If Denny hop skipped to San Diego,” I said. “Then something must be there he doesn’t want you to know about. Maybe heard about Slavas in the papers, or on TV,” I said, “and doesn’t want you to worry.”
“Well, he’s doing a hell of a job of it.”
“Cops are looking for him too.”
“What?”
“The detective and his partner just visited me. Wanted to know everything I knew about Denny. They’re looking for him.”
“Is Denny a suspect?”
“Not officially, but they want to find him. Think it could make sense.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Nora stood and walked a few paces.
“It was obviously a murder dressed as suicide, and an amateur one at that.”
She turned back to me with a voice turned angry. “He just told me he’s in San Diego!”
“It’s only two hours away. That’s plenty of time to get there since yesterday morning. Denny’s a...a muscular guy. He would have the strength to strangle somebody and hoist them up on a rope two feet off the ground.”
She kept staring at me, but her only reply was the tears in her eyes.
“But that’s their theory,” I said in a half-attempt at comfort.
She looked at me like she was panning for gold. “What’s yours?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you think Denny did it?”
“...No.”
A trace of relief eked onto her face, but only a trace. “Why not?”
“...I saw something last night.”
“What?”
I checked around. Classes were getting out and
throngs of students were starting to crowd the plaza.
“Not here,” I said.
I was still moving like the Tin Man while we walked back to the Beemer.
“You okay?” Nora asked.
“Fine. Just need an oil can.”
The joke flew right past her and it reminded me why I shouldn’t make jokes.
We got in the car and drove toward downtown. The beach and shopping traffic nearly put us at a stand-still, but I was able to park in a garage near the Promenade. I offered Nora a cigarette and we both cracked our windows and smoked.
“Do you know a man named James Lawson?”
“Lawson?” She considered, then her brow furrowed. “No. Why?”
I told her my history with Lawson. The whole history. Long Walk and all.
“So last night I went there, looking for him,” I said.
“To The Long Walk?”
“Wanted to talk with Mr. Grossman, the owner, see if he knew anything, but he wasn’t there. I found someone else instead.”
“Who?”
I took a drag of my cig to keep from remembering the sight too vividly.
“I snuck into Grossman’s office and found a body in his bathroom.”
Fear flushed her face like a tidal wave. “Oh my God. Was it--?”
“No. No.”
The color of relief came back into her cheeks. “Who then?”
“His name is Silvio. He worked at the Chuckle Hut, in the kitchen.”
“He was dead?”
“Stuffed in a body bag with his hands tied and plastic around his mouth. Bleeding out of it like a goddamn geyser.”
“Did Grossman kill him?”
“More likely had one of his brutes do it. His bouncer looked like he could bench press the Golden Gate Bridge. But I don’t think Grossman ordered it, he’s just the enforcer. There has to be money coming in from somewhere.”
“But why would they kill Silvio?”
“He knew something, most likely. I found this on him.” I reached into my wallet and gave her the crumpled business card wrapped in plastic.
“I can’t read it,” she said.
“You and me both. If I could get the name, that would be a start.” I said. “What about that logo? Does that look familiar?”
She shook her head. “No.” I returned the card to my jacket.
We didn’t say anything for a minute. The wheels in our heads were turning too fast.
“Slavas and Silvio are connected,” I said finally. “Could be two different killers because they were killed in different ways, but it was the same motive, whatever it was. They’re working together. And Denny has no motive.”
“You think Lawson was one of them?”
“...I don’t know. But I don’t think he’s in from Tennessee on business.”
She nodded like she understood, and there was fear behind her eyes. “What if Denny knows something too and they’re going after him? What if that’s why he ran away?”
“Might explain why Lawson was staying in your hotel two doors down. But that means Denny would’ve known he was in danger before he got on the plane. So why would he?”
“You’re the detective,” she said with half a smirk.
I took a puff and blew it out the window. “Don’t tell anybody about Silvio. Don’t talk to anyone except me. I threw off the cops. They don’t even know about you.”
She nodded. “So what do we do now?”
My cigarette was done. I dropped it through the crack and watched it fall to the pavement.
Chapter 7
I dropped her in front of the Rashi at a little before noon. I’d be back in an hour so she could get her things together, and we’d be in San Diego by three.
“Check out.” I said as she stepped out of the car.
“What?”
“If Lawson is working for Grossman, then he knows where you are and you’re not safe. Plus, the cops are gonna be poking around here and it’s better for everyone if nobody sees you. Check out, and if anyone asks, tell them you’re going back to New York.”
“Where will I stay?” She looked at me with a tinge of desperation and I got the feeling of taking a pop quiz I hadn’t studied for.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said.
Instead of saying “Okay” she just smacked her lips and shut the door. I waited until she was inside to pull away.
Heading for my place, I got a call back from Gordy.
“They came to my house,” he said. “I gave them the flight info and they looked Denny up in the system. Got his police report too.”
“You tell them you gave me the report?”
“No. That whole thing is under the table. Should I have?”
“No. They’re after the wrong guy anyway.”
“How do you know that?”
“I can’t explain right now. But keep your cell on. I’ll be out of town the rest of today.”
“Sure, Marsh. You all right?”
“Fine.”
“You sound...I don’t know, you’re voice is strange. You sure you’re all right?”
“...I’m fine, Gordy. I’ll talk to you later.”
I hung up knowing full well why my voice was strange. I was driving by the Demreau building – where I used to work and Charlotte still does. Figures in the windows were working overtime to meet a deadline. Charlotte was one of them. Up there, right now, trying not to think about me, and probably succeeding.
-----------------------------
I made myself a quick turkey sandwich for lunch and hopped on the desktop in my office. I did a Google search for “Barry + San Diego”...Barry’s Catering Services. Dr. Edward Barry MD - Cosmetic Surgeries. Barry Patrick, CPA and Tax advisor, etc. Lots of Barrys in San Diego. I printed off the ten pages of results thinking maybe Nora would recognize a name or two, but I wasn’t counting on it.
In the night stand by my bed was a GPS I hadn’t used in months. I grabbed it and set the destination for San Diego.
The gun, I thought, just before I stepped out the door. Should I take it? I’d never carried it with me before...but then again, I’d never found two murdered bodies in one day before either. I went to the safe in my office, unlocked it and took it out. I fed the holster through my belt and fixed it toward the back of my right hip. I couldn’t cover it with my shirt so I threw on my jacket and changed my shoes.
Before pulling out of my driveway, I called Nora and told her I’d be there in fifteen. She was just about to go downstairs and check out. I told her to meet me at the curb.
I took the long way round going back to avoid the Demreau building. There was an open meter just a few yards from the Rashi entrance so I grabbed it and waited.
And waited. Ten minutes I was out there and Nora still hadn’t come out. I sifted through the cup holders for loose change and found a couple of quarters.
While dropping the quarters in the meter, I saw two men exiting the building. Men I recognized as a certain detective and his partner. They were speaking with Mr. Brennan, the concierge. I turned away from them and lit up a cigarette. When they were finished talking, they split. Brennan went back inside while Grayson and Marber got into their car and pulled away. As soon as it was clear, I headed through the front doors.
Brennan was almost back to where his office was when I called out. He turned and saw me, but it took him a second to remember who was.
“Detective...” he said.
“Santone.”
“Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry. It’s been a hell of a day.”
“I understand. I noticed you were just talking with Detective Grayson.”
“Yes, they were also looking for Mr. Lawson. He seems to be causing quite a lot of trouble.”
“I suppose so.”
“I told them what I told you yesterday.”
“What you told me yesterday?”
“Yes. How he checked out unexpectedly and disappeared—“