Джонатан Келлерман - Serpentine

Denying the concept of danger except when it came to ideas.

I thought of Martha Maude Hopple, fifteen and focused. On all the wrong things.

A lifetime of deception and cruelty. Making a career out of it.

When we pulled up in front of my house, Milo said, “ When’s that sushi coming?”

—

An hour to go, Robin still out in the studio.

Milo comforted himself with an orange and a banana, tossed the peel and the rind, drank water from the kitchen tap and sat down at the table. Using the time for what a corporate-type would call networking.

First, he cross-referenced police records with Dudley Galoway’s Tarzana address but found no incidents. Then he called a detective he knew in Valley Division just to be sure. No idea who Galoway was.

Muttering, “Weekend, she won’t be in,” he tried his captain.

Ann-Margaret Meecham was a recent transfer from Central admin, not at West L.A. long enough for Milo to complain about her.

She answered her own phone after one ring. “Meecham.”

“Milo Sturgis, ma’am.”

“Lieutenant.” As if she found the fact amusing and possibly short of credible.

“Long day, ma’am?”

“Obviously for you, as well. What do you need?”

“The people I asked you for, if I could have them a bit longer.”

“Reed, Bogomil, and that rookie.”

“Arredondo,” said Milo. “Good group. Coherent and—”

“You need them because…”

“There’s been a break in the case.” Keeping it as spare and clear as possible, he explained about Galoway.

“Ex-D,” said Meecham.

“I know, ma’am, it’s tricky.”

“Understatement. More like messy. More like a pigsty that hasn’t been cleaned in weeks.”

“Exactly,” said Milo. “That’s why I need to take special care. Starting with surveillance. His residence doesn’t make it easy.”

“Give me details.”

When he was finished, Meecham said, “All I’m hearing is theory.”

“I know it sounds that way—”

“Your instincts, I get it. Your stats do help you in that regard. What won’t help you is what happens if a bunch of 211s break while you’ve got your little repertory going and Bancroft and Mendoza or whoever’s on shift need personnel for real-time investigations?”

“I understand that,” said Milo.

“Do you, Milo?” Slipping into first-name basis. A good sign? If so, Milo’s face wasn’t reflecting it.

“They can always be pulled off, ma’am.”

“Not the same as being there on the ground,” said Meecham. “Speaking of your little covert deal, I got a call from downtown.”

“Did you.”

“Martz,” said Meecham. Not using the deputy chief’s title. Definitely a good sign. Milo perked up.

He said, “About the case in question?”

“In a manner of speaking. She and I were in the same class at the academy.”

“Old friends, huh?”

“Not a foregone conclusion,” said Meecham. “She wants me to keep an eye on you. I don’t operate that way with my people but I told her I would. Have I ever done that? Intruded?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Meg is my preferred term of address from anyone above sergeant.”

“You haven’t intruded, Meg.”

“Glad you appreciate it. Does Veronique know about this new development?”

“No.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” said Meecham. “Something actually happens it’s going to be a West L.A. deal, not some downtown dog-and-pony with her taking credit.”

“Got it. So I can—”

“Unless an exigent situation evolves. You really need the rookie?”

“Given what I’m planning—”

“You take care of her. You make that a priority. The slightest sign she’s not cut out for the job, you let her go.”

“I will. Meg.”

“You learn fast. Good.”

“One more thing?” said Milo.

“Isn’t there always,” said Meecham.

“Detective Binchy’s due back from vacation in two days. If he’s not needed elsewhere—”

“Don’t get pushy,” said Meecham. “I’m going to start doubting your cognitive skills.”

Click.

I said, “Tough but fair, huh?”

“I’m sure she likes to think of herself that way.” He texted Moe and Bogomil and asked them to show up tomorrow morning at ten if they didn’t have weekend plans. Added a request for Alicia to contact Jen Arredondo with the same instruction.

Two rapid replies:

Got it. Moe.

Had plans but boring. Will do. A.B.

I said, “It’s so nice when the kids behave themselves.”

Milo looked at his watch and got another orange.

CHAPTER 36

Sunday. Same war room, same whiteboards, same coffee and tea and pastries in pink boxes augmented by a heap of plastic-wrapped, handmade deli sandwiches financed by Milo’s cash.

No writing on the boards; instead, Dudley Galoway’s enlarged DMV photo, enlargements of a modest-looking single-story Spanish house taken from Zillow plus several aerial shots of the property. No vehicles in any of the images.

Milo explained the situation.

Moe Reed and Alicia Bogomil listened impassively. Jen Arredondo’s eyes widened with each fact. She wore loose hair, a red tee, black jeggings, red Vans, looked like a high school senior.

When Milo finished, Alicia said, “This woman—if she is alive—is something else.”

Milo walked to the board and pointed to one of the aerials. A wide view that covered two blocks. “Everyone’s got a double-width driveway and a garage, not much parking on the street. So we can’t just sit there, anything unusual’s going to be spotted, especially by an ex-D like Galoway. But even by an unsuspecting neighbor. We can’t afford to have Valley patrol show itself.”

Moe Reed said, “Not safe informing them?”

“Don’t know if Galoway still has police contacts, so no. The best alternative I can come up with is pulling off a little theater. Meaning you guys play roles. I’d be part of the repertory but Galoway knows me.”

Using Meg Meecham’s word. Arredondo looked baffled and Milo noticed.

“There’ll be some acting,” he told her.

Alicia said, “All right, ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.”

Moe and Arredondo squinted at her.

“It’s a movie, guys. Sunset Boulevard ?”

No response.

Alicia said, “ Before my time, too, but my mom watches it all the time.” Small smile. “On her VCR.”

Milo said, “No close-ups. Let me emphasize, we’re not trying to get cozy with the suspects, need to assume Galoway’s gonna be more vigilant than a civilian and the same goes for Dorothy or whatever she’s calling herself.”

Reed said, “What is the goal?”

“I’d be happy with finding out who lives there. It may turn out to be simple. We know both of Galoway’s vehicles but have no idea what she’s driving. We spot a third vehicle and trace the tag to a female, big step. We don’t, I’d settle for some inkling of her presence or absence.”

Alicia said, “When’s garbage day? We can go back at night, empty the cans, see if there’s female stuff in there or who mail is addressed to.”

“Too risky, kid.”

She shrugged.

Milo turned to Reed. “For you, I’m figuring a delivery guy. There are three vans in the impound lot scheduled for the auction next month. No logo or signage on any of them, we’ll get stick-on vinyls that fit with whatever you’re delivering. Any preferences?”

Alicia patted Reed’s colossal biceps. “How about iron anvils?”

Reed smiled. “Whatever you choose, L.T. So I’m just driving by, not making a delivery.”

“Correct,” said Milo.

“Then I can alternate—plumbing, then electrical, whatever.”