Robert Crais - L.A. Requiem

I kept telling myself that because I needed to either believe it or scream.

I said, “This is bullshit, Watts. You know that.”

“Is it?”

“Pike wouldn't kill this guy. Pike didn't think Dersh was good for those killings.”

Watts just stared at me, as blank as a wall. He'd sat with a thousand people who had said they didn't do it when they had.

“What's next, Stan? The serial killer's dead, so you guys are going to declare victory and head for the donuts?”

Watts's expression never changed. “I realize you're upset because of your friend, but don't mistake me for Krantz. I'll slap your fucking teeth down your throat.”

Finally, Watts took Charlie and me to an interview room where Joe was waiting. His jeans and sweatshirt had been replaced by blue LAPD JAIL coveralls. He sat with his fingers laced on the table, his eyes as calm as a mountain lake. It was odd to see him without his sunglasses. I could count on both hands the number of times I'd seen his eyes. Their blue is astonishing. He squinted, not used to the light.

I sighed. “All the people in the world who need killing, and you've got to pick Dersh.”

Pike looked at me. “Was that humor?”

Inappropriate is my middle name.

Charlie said, “Before we get started, you want something to eat?”

“No.”

“Okay, here's what's going to happen. The ADA handling your case is a guy named Robby Branford. You know him?”

Pike and I both shook our heads.

“He's a square guy. A pit bull, but square. He'll be here soon, and we'll see what he's going to show the judge. The arraignment will be this afternoon over in Municipal Court. They'll keep you locked down here, then bring you over to the Criminal Court Building just before. Once we're there, it shouldn't take more than an hour or two. Branford will present the evidence, and the judge will decide if there's reasonable cause to believe you're the guy popped Dersh. Now, if the judge binds you over, it doesn't mean there's proof of your guilt, just that he believes there's enough reason to go to trial. If that's the way it breaks, we'll argue for bail. Okay?”

Pike nodded.

“Did you kill Dersh?”

“No.”

When he said it, I let out my breath. Pike must've heard, because he looked at me. The edge of his mouth flickered.

I said, “Okay, Joe.”

Charlie didn't seem impressed, or moved. He'd heard it a million times, too. I'm innocent. “Dersh's next-door neighbor just picked you out of the lineup. She says she saw you going into Dersh's yard this morning just before he was killed.”

“Wasn't me.”

“You go over there last night?”

“No.”

“Where were you?”

“Running.”

“You were running in the middle of the goddamned night?”

I said, “He does that.”

Charlie frowned at me. “Did I ask you?” He opened a yellow legal pad to take notes. “Let's back up. Give me your whole evening, say from about seven on.”

“I went by the store at seven. Stayed until a quarter to eight. Then went home and made dinner. I was home by eight. Alone.”

Charlie wrote down the names of Joe's employees, and their home phone numbers. “Okay. You went home and made dinner. What'd you do after dinner?”

“I went to bed at eleven-ten. I woke a little after two, and went for a run.”

Charlie was scribbling. “Not so fast. What'd you do between eight and eleven-ten?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothing? You watch TV? You rent a movie?”

“I showered.”

“You didn't shower for three goddamned hours. You read a book? Maybe call a friend, someone call you? Did your laundry?”

“No.”

“You had to be doing something besides the goddamned shower. Think about it.”

Pike thought.

“I was being.”

Charlie wrote on the pad. I could see his mouth move. BEING.

“Okay. So you ate, took your shower, then sat around ‘being’ until you went to bed. Then you woke up a little after two and went for a run. Give us the route.”

Joe described the route he followed, and now I was writing, too. I was going to retrace his route during the day, then again at the same time he'd run it, looking for anyone who might've seen him.

Pike said, “I stopped at the bluffs on Ocean Avenue between Wilshire and San Vicente, where you can see the water. I talked to a girl there. Her name was Trudy.”

Pike described her.

Charlie said, “No last name?”

“I didn't ask. She was meeting someone named Matt. A black minivan arrived. New Dodge, no license or dealer tag that I could see. Custom teardrop windows in the back. She got in and they left. Whoever was inside would've seen me.”

I said, “When was that?”

“Got to the bluffs about two-fifty. Started running again just at three.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “You're sure about the time?”

“Yes.”

I said, “That's only fifteen minutes or so before the old lady heard the shot. No way you could get from the ocean to Dersh's in fifteen minutes. Not even at three in the morning.”

Charlie nodded, thinking about it and liking it. “Okay. That's something. We've got the girl, maybe. And all this running could give us plenty of potential witnesses.” He glanced at me. “You're gonna get started on that?”

“Yes.”

Someone rapped at the door, and Charlie yelled for them to come in.

Williams stuck his head in. “DA's here.”

“Be right out.”

When Williams closed the door, Joe said, “What about bail?”

“You've got your business. You've got a home. All of that is to the good when I'm trying to convince a judge you won't run. But when you're talking murder, it depends on the strength of their evidence. Branford will make a big deal about this old lady, but he knows-and so does the judge-that eyewitness testimony is the least dependable evidence you can admit. If all he has is the old lady, we're in good shape. You just sit tight, and don't worry, okay?”

Pike put the calm blue eyes on me, and I wished I knew what was behind them. He seemed peaceful, as if far worse things had happened to him, and nothing that could happen here would be as bad. Not even here. Not even charged with murder.

He said, “Don't forget Karen.”

“I won't, but right now you have to come first. Edward Deege is dead. He was found murdered.”

Pike cocked his head. “How?”

“Dolan says it looks like a street beef, but Hollywood has the case. They're investigating.”

Pike nodded.

“I'll see about finding Trudy.”

“I know.”

“Don't worry about it.”

“I'm not.”

I took my sunglasses from my shirt pocket and held them out.

Pike's eyes flicked to the glasses.

“Krantz would just take them.”

Charlie Bauman said, “Come on, for chrissake. We don't have all day.”

I put the sunglasses back in my pocket and followed Charlie out.

Robert Branford was a tall man with large hands and bristling eyebrows. He met us in the hall, then walked us into a conference room where Krantz was sitting at the head of a long table. A TV and VCR were in the corner, and a short stack of files and legal pads were on the table. The TV was on, showing a blank blue screen. I wondered what they'd been watching.

Even before we were all the way in the room, Charlie said, “Hey, Robby, you meet your eyewitness yet?”

“Mrs. Kimmel? Not yet. Gonna see her after the arraignment.”

“Better see her before.”

“Why is that, Charlie? She got three heads?”

Charlie made a drinking motion. “Booze hound. Jesus, Krantz, I'm surprised you could stand being so close to her at the lineup. Damn near knocked me out when she walked past.”