Jonathan Kellerman - Victims

“I’d love if you’d talk to her because that would mean she’s alive. Unfortunately, Parkinson’s disease had other ideas.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“So am I, Detective. They say you don’t grow up until you lose your parents. Frankly, I’d prefer to be immature.”

Petra’s mother had died giving birth to her. Her father had succumbed a few years back. She said, “I’ve heard that.”

Eccles stood, checked the folds of his hankie.

“I guess,” he said, “I’m responsible for the body.”

A uniformed officer saw Lee Eccles out.

Petra said, “He has no idea what he just gave us. Marlon Quigg worked at that hospital at the same time Lem Eccles was committed there. Looks like you were right about some sort of ancient history, Alex.”

I said, “Maybe for those two but I can’t see Vita and Glenda Usfel connected to V-State that long ago. Usfel was a young child and Vita grew up in Chicago.”

“Fine,” said Milo. “So their problems with Mr. Shearling were more recent, he’s an equal-opportunity disemboweler.”

Petra said, “Eccles Junior is one angry man, that boy did not like his daddy. Can’t say that I blame him but he’s lucky Daddy’s murder is part of a serial because if I picked it up as a one-shot I’d be looking at him as my prime. And if Eccles alienated his own offspring that thoroughly, imagine what he could evoke in a homicidal maniac. Especially if the two of them went way back to V-State.”

Milo said, “Mr. Crazy, meet Mr. Curious. Where do we go with this Pitty-Patty-Petty dude? If any of it’s true, we’ve got complications because Shearling’s too young to have worked as a guard twenty-three years ago.”

I said, “The story could be partially true. Eccles knew someone named Pitty years ago, convinced himself the guy was after him. He notices someone stalking him and resurrects his old personal bogeyman.”

“You believe the stalking part?” said Petra.

“Eccles was murdered.”

Milo said, “The bumper sticker.”

“What?”

“Even paranoids have enemies.”

She laughed.

Milo said, “Even if Pitty did exist, Alex is probably right and he’s irrelevant. Eccles was schizo, had a fixation, flashed back to it. Or Pitty’s a squid in a three-piece suit or some other figment. In any event, we’ve got multiple sightings of Shearling.”

Petra said, “If Shearling was a patient at V-State, we might be able to find some known associates, family, anything that could lead us to him. Any word back from that psychiatrist, Alex?”

“No.”

Milo said, “Got his address just before Eccles Junior showed up. Social Security records, don’t ask.”

She said, “Excellent. Let’s pay him a visit, Big Guy.”

“I don’t know. He’s under no obligation to let us past the door let alone cough up patient info. We get heavy-handed, he invokes the doctor confidentiality thing. So my vote’s for having Alex try first, shrink-to-shrink.”

Petra looked at me.

I said, “He could refuse me, too, but sure.”

Milo fished out a scrap of paper and handed it over. Van Nuys address, 818 landline.

“Meanwhile, we can have Shimoff do a better drawing with Banforth and push to get it on the media along with the new info. I’ve got Sean and Moe checking out newsstands and bookstores, see if anyone remembers an asshole buying puzzle books.”

Petra said, “Raul’s been talking to street people but so far no one had a special beef with Eccles, basically everyone thought he was a general pain.” Smiling. “I’ll tell him to look for a cephalopod in a suit.”

I said, “Eccles’s last arrest, the one his son bailed him out for, was for shoving a tourist. Have you looked at the arrest report?”

“I read the summary. Your basic citizen versus nutcase.”

“Citizen have a name?”

“I didn’t make note of it. Why?”

“Maybe it’s worthwhile. On the off chance that it was Shearling.”

“Nutcase versus nutcase?” said Milo.

“Flagrant psychotic versus someone able to maintain outward control,” I said. “What was the exact nature of the charge?”

Petra said, “Eccles tried to get money from a tourist, the tourist resisted, Eccles did some screaming and pushing and shoving.”

“Did the tourist phone in the complaint?”

“No, someone on the street did and a car was a block away.”

I said, “Think what the officers would’ve found: a he said-he said between a quiet young man and an angry alcoholic with a record for aggressive panhandling whom they knew as a neighborhood nuisance.”

Milo said, “Shearling’s able to fake normal.”

“Five murders without a trace of physical evidence says he’s organized, meticulous, able to slip in and out without setting off alarms. He impressed Hedy the waitress as eccentric but didn’t scare her. John Banforth thought his behavior was odd but it didn’t trouble him too much until he learned of Vita’s murder. So we’re talking someone who’s not overwhelmingly threatening. When contrasted with Eccles’s ravings, there’s no doubt who the cops would’ve seen as the offender.”

“Monster trumps maniac,” she said. “Okay, I’ll check the complete report. And as long as we’re dotting i ’s, I’m going to call Oxnard PD and see if I can dig up something about this Rosetta woman.” Winking. “The bumper sticker and all that.”

The three of us headed for the exit.

“Crazy,” said Milo. “The only time I like it is when Patsy Cline’s singing about it.”

Caught in a traffic jam on Wilshire and Westwood, I phoned my service.

Three calls, none of them from Emil Cahane.

I tried the Valley number Milo had given me. No answer.

When I got home, I began working the computer, searching for staff lists at V-State and finally coming upon an old one that listed Cahane as deputy director with one person above him, Dr. Saul Landesberg.

A search using Landesberg’s name pulled up a four-year-old obituary.

Him, Gertrude, I wasn’t even sure if Cahane was coherent.

Ancient history. But not to a man in a fleece-lined coat.

Robin was working out back. I dropped in, kissed her, petted Blanche, engaged in a brief discussion of dinner. Yes, Japanese sounded fine, maybe we’d splurge on Matsuhisa.

When I returned to my office, the phone was ringing.

Milo said, “Guess what, we actually learned some stuff. A clerk at a stand on San Vicente in Brentwood told Reed he sold an armload of puzzle books to someone about a week ago. Unfortunately, he remembers the books, not the purchaser. Who cleaned him out. And paid with small bills and coins.”

I said, “Go west from that location, hook north to Sunset and keep going, you’ll reach Quigg’s apartment. Couple of miles farther, you’re at Temescal Canyon.”

“Stocking up on reading material for a thorough surveillance? Interesting… The second thing is Petra found out from Oxnard that there really was a Rosetta who died in the parking lot at V-State, last name Macomber. She lived in a public housing project, had coke and booze issues. So Eccles had at least some reality testing, but there was no evidence it was murder, more likely a heart attack.”

“Not a scratch on her,” I said. “That’s why Eccles thought she’d been poisoned. Was she visiting him?”

“The cop Petra talked to didn’t know, only reason he remembered was he’d patrolled near the hospital, was called to the scene by their on-site security. Thought it was ironic for someone to walk out of a hospital and keel over. Even though it wasn’t that kind of hospital. The last bit of news is Shimoff’s second drawing is much more detailed than the one he did with Wheeling, I’m working on getting it to the media. So thanks for directing us to Mr. Banforth. Anything from Cahane?”