Faye Kellerman - Blindman’s Bluff

In his early sixties, Willy Brubeck had talked about retirement for the last ten years. But when the time came to turn in his badge, he decided to give it one more year. Decker was glad to have him onboard. A thirty-five-year vet, Brubeck had worked Homicide in South Central for twenty years.

When the last of five kids was finally out of the house, Willy and his wife, Daisy, opted for a smaller home in a less trafficked area in the San Fernando Valley.

Brubeck had a round face, sharp eyes, and mocha-colored skin that was often grizzled with white stubble by five in the afternoon. He had an easy laugh, and eating was one of his favorite pastimes: five ten and 250-with high blood pressure. But Brubeck was philosophical. Life was for living, not for starving.

Andrew Messing had joined LAPD five years ago, moving out from Mississippi where he had worked Homicide for five years. Drew had a boyish face with a hand-in-the-cookie-jar grin. The man was twice divorced, and Decker thought he’d be a good fit because he lacked personal obligations. Oliver liked him. Of late, the two of them had taken to bar hopping with Scott using Drew as bait. Didn’t hurt that Messing had the curly hair, a wide smile, and an “ah shucks” southern accent.

Lee Wang had infinite patience to sort through trivia and columns of numbers. The man was a third-generation cop as well as a third-generation American. He didn’t speak a word of Chinese, although he spoke fluent Spanish: handy with the growing Latino community in the West Valley.

Decker knew Wanda Bontemps from her uniform days. He suspected that she’d rather be investigating than taking minutes, but she was pleased that he had chosen her to sub for him, putting her in a position of authority. Decker knew she wouldn’t abuse it. She was now in her fifties, a stout black woman with short blond hair and penetrating eyes. Like Wang, she was a computer person, and among her many virtues was her ability to troubleshoot operating systems.

After Marge’s summary, there were lots of questions, stretching the meeting time past the two-hour mark. Decker called for a ten-minute coffee break and when the group reconvened, he was standing in front of the whiteboard on which he had written a list of assignments that needed to be done.

He put down his coffee cup and said, “Item number one. We need to interview all the guards in Guy Kaffey’s employ-either present or past. Find out what they were doing the night of the murder and recheck their background.” Decker passed out a sheet of paper to everyone in the room. “This list does not contain the two missing guards on duty the night of the murders. They’ll be dealt with individually. If, in your investigations, you find an additional name, let all of us know about it, understood?”

Nods all around.

“Scott Oliver has checked for priors. You can see that we’ve got some outright felons. According to Neptune Brady and Grant Kaffey, Guy Kaffey had a penchant for hiring rehabilitated gang members.”

Simultaneous expressions of disbelief from “C’mon” to “That’s bullshit.”

“That’s why everyone needs to be interviewed, and their alibis have to be ironclad. Some of these yo-yos are good candidates for hit men. I need a couple of people on this.”

Brubeck was the first hand up, followed by Messing.

“Okay, Drew and Willy, you’re on.”

Decker passed additional papers, the cluster secured with a paper clip.

“This packet is all the forensics picked up at the scene so far. I think the Coroner’s Office is almost done processing the victims’ bodies. A partial list of evidence includes some partial and latent prints, hair, saliva, fluids, and skin cells. Drew and Willy, take a print kit with you during the interviews and see who’ll let you print them. Also a swab kit for DNA. That’s more expensive to process but easier to collect.”

Messing’s hand went up. “Question.”

“Yep?”

“It was my impression that the victims were gunned down,” Messing drawled. “What kind of saliva and fluids did you find of interest?”

“We found some cigarette butts and a toothpick. We’re working on pulling DNA from that.”

“Discarded paper cups are good for DNA collection when people refuse a swab,” Messing said. “Do we get a coffee budget?”

“As long as you don’t get anything with foam or chocolate.” Decker turned to Wanda. “You don’t have to put that little interchange in the minutes.”

Wanda smiled. “I kinda figured that out.”

“Moving right along…” Decker flipped through the packet. “It looks like we found two types of firearms: a Smith and Wesson Night Guard.38, probably model 315, and a Beretta 9 mm. I want to know the firearms each of the guards routinely used. Any questions?”

“I’m good,” Brubeck said.

“Ditto,” Messing said.

Decker said, “This is what we have so far. Dunn and Oliver are still pulling up evidence from the other buildings on the property so there could be more. This brings us to item number two.”

He checked it off on the whiteboard.

“The grounds have not been combed. That’s about seventy acres. We need someone to organize and lead a meticulous ground grid search. This should be done and carried out within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Who’s interested?”

“I’ll do it,” Wynona volunteered.

“It’s yours,” Decker said. “I’ll give you eight uniforms on the day of the search. Let’s set it up for the day after tomorrow, six in the morning. You’ll need every photon of daylight you can grab. I’ll be there, but I’ll have to leave around five since it’s a Friday. Also, you’re probably not going to finish in one day. Any problems with working through the weekend?”

“Not with me. I can’t speak for the people working with me.”

Decker said, “Coordinate with Lieutenant Hammer and tell him that you’ll need eight men to work over the weekend.”

“I’ll give him a call as soon as we’re done.”

“Do a grid search first. Then I need a drawing of the entire property with all the gates, doors, and fencing clearly marked. The place is enclosed, but with an area that big, there must be weak spots.”

Wynona was writing as fast as she could. “Got it.”

“On Sunday morning at six, I’ll meet you at the main entrance and you can show me what you have. That way, when this team meets again on Monday, I’ll have the results of your work for everyone.”

He turned to Marge and Oliver.

“Okay, I understand that you two got permission to go through the main house and the staff quarters?”

Marge said, “We’ve got permission from Grant and Gil to go through the house-”

“You’ve talked to Gil since yesterday?”

“Talked to his lawyer,” Oliver said. “Though we don’t know anything specific, he’s going on the assumption that the sons are set to inherit the ranch.”

“Interesting. What else have you found out about the inheritance?”

“We’re working on that,” Marge said.

“When do you think you can actually speak to Gil directly?”

“His doctor said that someone can come by tomorrow for a few minutes.”

“What time?”

“Whenever he’s up,” Marge said.

Oliver said, “We’ve gone through the main house and are working our way through Neptune Brady’s place. Paco Albanez, the gardener, and Riley Karns, the horse guy, have given us permission to go through their places. There are a few other buildings that we need to comb. Most likely, we’ll finish everything this weekend and can present our findings to everyone on Monday.”

Pratt asked, “How many buildings are on the ranch?”

Marge turned to Oliver. “How many? Eight?”