James Conway - In Cold Blonde

Tony Ramirez headed into the kitchen where he left his crime scene kit. He started boxing the evidence. “Excuse me a minute,” Ryan said to the others and went to join Tony.

“So,” Hanrahan said, turning to Syd. “Looks like you and Ryan have still got the only perfect record in Homicide. You’re my Dream Team.”

Some dream team, Syd thought. A bitch-fucking, backstabbing, lottery stealing Ryan and a lying, evidence stealing, murdering Syd. “We make a great team, all right,” Syd said.

And, Syd thought, there was a very good chance their partnership wouldn’t last past tomorrow. If, as she feared, Ryan and Anne hooked up, she’d be asking Hanrahan for a transfer.

Hanrahan drifted off leaving Syd alone. She glanced into the kitchen. Ryan was huddled with Tony Ramirez, Tony was shaking his head and laughing. What the hell were they talking about, Syd wondered.

A body bag was unrolled next to the Lady in Red. Syd watched as the coroner assistants picked Alice up, slipped her into the bag and zipped her up. Was there anything more dehumanizing than being zipped into a black plastic bag?

“There’s a lot of sympathy in those green eyes,” Liz said joining Syd.

“I feel sorry for her, Liz. She was a good kid just trying to get by before those boys raped her. And I can’t help but wonder what her life would have been like if she didn’t go to that party.”

“I call it the Domino Theory,” Liz said. “The innocent single event leads to an inevitably tragic conclusion. This morning I had a six-year-old boy on my table, shot once through the head. Last night he found his dad’s handgun in a bedside drawer and started playing with it. He dropped it, it went off and killed him. So when did the first domino fall? When the kid found the gun, when his dad put the gun in the drawer instead of the top shelf of the closet, when his dad bought the gun, when his dad read the newspaper article about a home invasion in their neighborhood that sent him to the gun store in the first place? Sometimes it gets a bit murky, but it’s always there, the first domino. And if you could just stand it up again, stop the chain reaction, then so much needless tragedy could be undone.”

Was tonight’s domino the bus ride eleven years ago when Alice fell in love with Adam, Syd wondered. Or her saying yes when he asked her to the party, or Adam not walking out the door of the game room that night, or Nick Wood raping Alice, or Alice’s father selling her out, or the doctor’s lying to her about the cancer or Syd not answering Ryan’s phone call?

Liz asked, “And what was the first domino in your relationship with Ryan? The day you first met him… or the day he first met Anne?”

Syd recalled her binocular-enhanced view of Ryan kissing Anne. A melancholy smile touched Syd’s lips. “I’m afraid it was the day he met Anne.”

Liz touched Syd’s arm. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“Well, it’s not over until the greedy bitch sings.”

Liz laughed.

From the kitchen Ryan watched Syd and Liz. What was Liz laughing about, he wondered. But Syd didn’t look amused, if anything, she looked downright miserable.

Ryan knew Syd lied to him. She’d said she’d just arrived at the house a few minutes earlier, but when Ryan arrived, he put his hand on the hood of Syd’s car. It was cool, so she’d been there at least a half an hour. Plus, she told him to check out the mess in the master bathroom, but if the Lady in Red had gotten the drop on Syd in the office, how would she have known what was in the master bath?

He wanted to know why she lied. He wanted to know what really happened inside 22756 Pacific Coast Highway.

And then there was the bigger question. What was to become of them? Looking at Syd he knew he still loved her. But after the way Anne so easily seduced Ryan, he had to wonder if he loved Syd enough. And what does he tell Syd about what happened at the hotel? If he tells her the truth, could she ever forgive him? Should he lie to protect her feelings?

Syd’s attention returned to Ryan. He was tense, tenser than she’d ever seen him. And ever since he first walked into Blake Hunter’s house, there had been a reticence to Ryan, like he was holding something back. Anne? She wanted to ask him what happened at the hotel, but she was terrified he’d lie to her and she could never forgive him if he lied.

And so there they stood; two people looking across the crowded room at each other, with so much to say to one another, and no idea how to say it.

The sky outside the picture windows lightened as sunrise approached. “Okay, people, time to feed the sharks,” Hanrahan said. “Ryan, you’re the reason every reporter in Southern California is camped outside this house. You want to make a statement?”

Ryan felt bad about killing the Lady in Red and worse about the lottery. The last thing he wanted to do is face a barrage of questions. “It’s been a long night, Lieutenant; if it’s all right with you, I’d just like to get home and grab a little sleep before tomorrow’s lottery presentation.”

“No problem. Syd, this is your chance to get famous; want to go out there and tell everyone how you broke the case?”

My chance to get famous, Syd thought. For years that drive to get famous had fueled her career in the LAPD. But now, somehow, it didn’t seem as important as it did a few days ago. “I’m kind of beat, too, Chief. I’ll pass if you don’t mind.”

Hanrahan reacted, surprised. “No problem,” he said. “I can handle it. You and Ryan head home and we’ll run interference.”

“Sounds good,” Syd said.

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Ryan said, and then something occurred to him. “Wait, we still need to go through all of Blake Hunter video material, see if we can find the high school tape.”

Syd panicked for a moment but was saved by Hanrahan. “It’s late, you’ve been up all night. We’ll seal the house, come back tomorrow after the Lotto presentation.”

“Great,” Ryan said stifling a yawn.

Ryan and Syd weaved their separate ways through the crowded room and met at the door. “Are you coming to the presentation?” Ryan asked.

“Do you want me there?”

“Of course I do. You’re the one who got me into this mess. You’re the one who found the ticket.”

Oh, shit, Syd thought. Maybe that was the domino in her relationship with Ryan, finding that stinking ticket.

“I’ll be there, Ryan, but I need to go home and grab some sleep.”

Ryan got her meaning. She wanted to go to her apartment, alone. And honestly, so did he. Ryan needed time to figure out what the hell to say. “Yeah, me, too,” he said.

As they stepped outside, the army of reporters, cameramen and photographers burst to life. Strobes flashed, camera shutters clicked, video cameras zoomed in, the helicopters swooped low and questions were hurled at them over the police barricades.

Syd stared at the frantic faces of the massed media; part of her still yearned to step up to the gathered microphones and bask in the limelight and part of her was revolted by their scavenger-like behavior.

“Detective Magee, is it true you shot the Lady in Red?”

“Do you know why she went on a killing spree?”

“Can you confirm reports that she killed a man in Newport Beach last week?”

They ignored the questions as Sherriff’s Deputies cleared a path so Ryan and Syd could back out of the driveway. Ryan opened Syd’s door. Syd got in, and was about to ask Ryan about his meeting with Anne. But she was afraid of the answer; afraid he’d lie, so she hesitated.

“I’ll see you later, sweetie,” Ryan said and closed the door. He headed for his car.

Oh, fuck it, Syd thought. She hit the button to roll down her window. “Hey, Ryan.”