Faye Kellerman - Blindman’s Bluff

“At the time, my father was an inch away from dying. He had no choice. I was going even if it cost me my job.”

“Yet he let you stay up in Oakland an extra week.”

“That wasn’t Guy Kaffey, that was Gil Kaffey. Not that Gil isn’t a shark, but he can be human. Guy was loud, abrasive, and demanding. Then like that”-he snapped his fingers-“he’d be the nicest, most generous man on earth. I never knew which Guy would show up. His moods were random.”

“I’ve pulled up a few of the most recent articles on Gil. As of nine months ago, he wasn’t married. Is that still the case?”

“Gil is gay.”

“Okay.” Decker flipped through some of the articles and skimmed the text. “Doesn’t mention anything about that in anything I’ve read.”

“Where’d you get the articles from?”

“Wall Street Journal…Newsweek…U.S. News & World Report.”

“Why should they mention Gil being gay? He’s a hard-nosed businessman, not head of the Gay and Lesbian Alliance. He keeps a low personal profile.”

Decker said, “Does he have a partner?”

“No. He had a partner for about five years, but they broke up about six months ago.”

“Name?”

“Antoine Resseur. He used to live in West Hollywood. I don’t know what he’s doing now.”

“Why’d they break up?”

“I don’t know. That wasn’t my business.”

“Let’s get back to your business. Did you do security for Gil as well as Guy?”

“No, because Gil didn’t want me to. He owns a seven-thousand-square-foot midcentury house in Trousdale and had it outfitted with a state-of-the-art security system. Occasionally, I’ve seen him with a bodyguard, but most of the time he flies below the radar.”

“Were Guy and Gilliam Kaffey your only employers?”

“Yes. It’s a full-time job and then some. For as little sleep as I got, I should have been a doctor.”

Brady rubbed his forehead and shook his head. “I was always asking Guy for more money, not for myself but in order to hire a better caliber of guys. I must have told Kaffey a thousand times that a little bit more money can go a long way. All those millions…what else is money for?”

“Maybe he took a hit in the market.”

“The unemployment rate has skyrocketed. He could have had his pick of the litter in legitimate guards. Why choose losers on purpose?”

“Hard to understand,” Decker said.

“Impossible to understand, but that was Guy. One minute he was totally cavalier about his personal safety, then he’d suddenly become totally paranoid. I could understand the paranoia. What I didn’t get was the laissez-faire attitude. You’re a target. Why skimp on your own safety?”

A thought came into Decker’s head. “Was he on any psychiatric medication?”

Brady said, “Talk to his doctor.”

“He was manic-depressive?”

“It’s called bipolar disorder.” Brady tapped his toe. “This could get me fired…” Then he laughed.

“Like I’m not in deep shit already?”

Decker waited.

Brady said, “It’s like this. When Guy was in one of his…expansive moods, he’d talk about his condition to anyone who’d listen. About how his wife wanted him to take his lithium and he didn’t want to do it.”

“Why not?”

“Guy claimed that when he was on lithium, it did stabilize him. It lifted him out of his lows. The problem was it also sliced the tops off his highs. He said he couldn’t afford to have his highs chopped off. His highs allowed him to take chances. His highs were what made him a billionaire.”

THE PRESS DEBRIEFING had gone well, although Strapp had little time to spend basking in his close-up. He came into Decker’s office without knocking and shut the door with more force than needed.

Decker looked up from his desk while Strapp kicked out a chair and sat down.

“Upstairs has decided that this is too big for a single Homicide unit.”

“I agree.”

Strapp narrowed his eyes. “You agree?”

“We need a task force.” Decker regarded Strapp in his navy suit, light blue oxford shirt, and red tie.

The man’s face was all angles, his body language tense-a cork waiting to pop. “What’s the problem? They want to kick this downtown and have one of their own guys lead it?”

“That was the idea. I fought for you. I thought you’d want it that way.”

Meaning Strapp wanted it that way. The station house had received a great deal of attention a few months ago when Decker and his Homicide detectives had solved a cold case reopened by a billionaire’s promise of funds. Strapp was smelling money again from the remaining Kaffeys if his Homicide unit came up with the solve.

“I appreciate it, Captain, and I’d be happy to lead a full-time team.”

“What’s the minimum you can work with and still keep the department running?”

“Something this scope and size, I’d say eight people. Big enough to work the angles, but not too big to control.”

“Start with six. If you need more, come to me.” Strapp drummed Decker’s desktop. “I got the commander to agree to have the case worked from West Valley. But you’ll need to report daily to me so I can report back to the commander. How many detectives do we have on Homicide detail?”

“Seven full-time Homicide detectives, including Marge Dunn and Scott Oliver who are already involved. If I could have Marge, Oliver, and Lee Wang on it full-time, that would be a good start.”

“Lee for the computer work?”

“For the computer work and for the financials. He’s the only one patient enough to go through columns of numbers. That’ll leave four Homicide detectives for the community.” Decker shuffled through his roster of detectives. “From CAPS, I’d like Brubeck, Messing…and Pratt. They’ve all worked Homicide before. That’s my six.”

“That’s seven counting you.”

Decker said, “Also if you want me on this mostly full-time, somebody needs to help me with my own paperwork and the scheduling issues that come up.”

“We can get a secretary for that.”

“It’s not just paperwork, it’s psychology. I need someone familiar with the guys. How about Wanda Bontemps? She’s worked with me before, she’s computer savvy, and she can do the minutes of the task force meetings.”

“That makes eight.”

“Which is how many I said I needed,” Decker answered with a smile.

Strapp got up. “Eight for now, Decker. We’ll see about the future. I want a list of everyone chosen and their assignments. I also want a summary of the decisions made written up in triplicate-a copy for you, me, and the commander. You can fudge on your own paperwork, but I’m going to need something in writing for downtown.”

“I understand, sir.” Decker smiled. “You’re only as good as your last report.”

IT TOOK LONGER than expected to assemble the crew because Brubeck was out in the field and Pratt had an emergency dental appointment. When Decker finally got them all together, he had seven eager detectives. Marge had prepared a summary of the case, bringing the others up to speed. As she spoke, the newly assigned detectives wrote frantically with pens in their notepads, except for Lee Wang and Wanda Bontemps who took notes on their laptops.

Wynona Pratt appeared to be jotting down every word. A ten-year vet, she was in her forties, five feet ten with a thin and wiry frame. Her face was long and her straw-colored hair was cut shorter than Decker’s. She had worked Homicide in the Pacific Division, and the feedback on her had been good. She had transferred to West Valley a couple of years ago and wound up in Crimes Against Persons-CAPS-while waiting for something to open up in Homicide. Until that happened, she did her job well and with efficiency.