Faye Kellerman - Blindman’s Bluff

“I’m still thinking about the embezzling uncle,” Oliver said. “How serious is Mace’s gunshot wound?”

Decker said, “Far from life threatening, but it’s still a bullet in the arm. We still have a missing guard, guys. What’s going on with Rondo Martin?”

Marge said, “The man was a cipher even in Ponceville. No one is even sure where he came from.”

Oliver said, “Martin wasn’t overly social-an occasional beer or two. In his off hours, he used to hang out at the field-hand houses. They’re called the ciudads and they surround the farms. The areas look like Tijuana on a bad day.”

“It’s more shantytown than city,” Marge said. “And the area probably houses prostitutes.”

“Not much else to do up there,” Oliver said.

“Rondo Martin used to frequent the northern district of the ciudads.”

“They’re divided into four quarters?” Decker asked.

“I believe so,” Marge told him. “The sheriff is a guy named Tim England, but everyone calls him T. His secretary rattled off some of the families who live in the northern district. One of the surnames was Mendez.”

Immediately, Decker said, “As in Ana Mendez.”

“You got it,” Marge said. “We had to leave before we could nose around. There may be nothing to it. Mendez is a common Hispanic surname. The simplest thing to do would be to ask Ana about it, but we don’t want to scare her away.”

Oliver said, “We thought that maybe you and Brubeck would want to go up and see the ciudads for yourselves.”

Decker smiled. “You’re giving me an assignment.”

“Brubeck is local and you speak Spanish,” Marge said.

Oliver said, “I would leave Sheriff T in the dark. I think he might not like you poking into his territory.”

Decker said, “You don’t like Sheriff T?”

Marge said, “He is a flat guy. He wasn’t self-revealing, but why would he be?”

“All right,” Decker said. “Sounds like a good day’s work. What about Oakland? Did you make contact with Neptune’s dad?”

“It’s actually his grandfather,” Oliver said. “Porter Brady. Neptune’s father was black, but his mother is white. That explains his perpetual tan.”

“What does his race have to do with the Kaffey murders?” Decker said. “Displaced anger or something?”

“According to Porter, Neptune didn’t hate his mom.” Oliver gave him a recap on what they had learned.

Marge said, “That explains why Brady’s in his thirties and the old man is in his seventies.”

“Brady’s phone records put him in Oakland when the shooting went down,” Oliver said. “Do you still consider him a strong suspect, Rabbi?”

“He hasn’t been ruled out. No one has, including that guy.”

Decker was referring to Kotsky. The man hadn’t moved, still standing in the same spot with his arms across his chest. He would have made a dynamite beefeater.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until we talk to Neptune. He seems to be calling the shots.” Decker shrugged. “Maybe more shots than we think.”

BECAUSE DR. RAIN had met Decker previously, he allowed him contact with Brady. But only he could go in and only for a short time. Neptune’s face was gray and his skin was mottled. There was an oxygen tube up his nose and an IV in his arm. His lips were cracked but his eyes were open.

Bedsheets were covering his lower body. His upper torso, swathed in bandages, was exposed. He was semi-upright, and when he noticed Decker, he gave him a dazed look. “I know you.”

“Lieutenant Decker. How are you feeling?”

“I’m flying, man…don’t want to crash. Ever been shot?”

“A couple of times.”

“Like being stuck with a hot poker. Fuck, it burns.”

“Yes, it does.”

“But now all is mellow.”

“I’ll keep the questions short.”

“Short is good…not in dicks though.”

“Neptune, do you know where the Kaffey boys are?”

“Nope! No idea.”

“They just jumped in the limo and disappeared?”

“I told them…get the hell out of Dodge.”

“What about Antoine Resseur?”

“What about him?”

“Did he go with the Kaffey boys?”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Decker said. “I’m asking you.”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Where do you think they might have gone?”

“To go where no man has ever gone…” He gave the Star Trek V sign. Index and middle finger together on one side of the V split with the ring and pinkie finger on the other. Decker knew that this was a ritual gesture given by the Jews’ priests-the Kohanim-when blessing the congregation.

It was two thousand years old.

“Maybe you can guess within earthly boundaries?”

“No idea.” Another silly smile. “I redeemed myself. I got shot, but not the Kaffeys.”

“Mace got shot.”

Brady was thinking hard. “Yeah…that’s messed up.” A pause. “Demerol is great. I should become an addict. They tried to send me to rehab but I said no, no, no.”

“Neptune, who besides Kotsky and you knew that Gil was coming out?”

“Gil came out a while ago…” A wide smile.

Decker said, “Knew that Gil was being released from the hospital.”

He coughed and winced when he did. “Shit, that burns.”

“Do you need the nurse?”

“I need more drugs.”

Decker pushed the nurse’s call button. He decided to simplify further. “You knew when Gil was going to be released from the hospital, right?”

“Right.”

“So did Grant, Mace, Antoine Resseur, and Piet Kotsky, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Anyone else know?”

“Know what?”

“When Gil was coming out of the hospital.” Decker tried another way. “Did you hire anyone else besides Piet Kotsky to guard the Kaffeys?”

The question stumped him. “I don’t think so…it’s a little foggy…my brain.”

“So far the only one who wasn’t shot was Grant and Resseur,” Decker said. “What do you think about that?”

“I did my job. Otherwise his brains would have been splattered on my bomber jacket.”

“Was a man named Alejandro Brand ever employed by you?”

He blinked several times. “Doesn’t sound familiar. Who is he?”

“You look in pain.”

“I could use another shot of happiness.”

Decker depressed the button a second time. He decided to pull one out of the hat. “Did you know that Rondo Martin and Ana Mendez were an item?”

Brady said, “Ana the maid?”

“Yes. Ana Mendez. I heard they were dating.”

“Hmmm…” Brady appeared thoughtful. “Once time, I came into the guards’ quarters.” He inhaled and exhaled, slow and steady. “Rondo was there in his civvies…he was eating a plate of Mexican food.” He closed his eyes. “Tacos and enchiladas, rice and beans. No roach coaches on the ranch.”

“I wouldn’t think so. Did you ask him about it?”

“Yep. He told me he could cook and offered me some. I told him no thanks and he said, suit yourself. Then he got up and threw the plate in the garbage. He told me he was going to get dressed for his post.” Another spasm of pain.

“Did Ana cook the meal for him?”

“Don’t know. The hot plate and the microwave were clean. He didn’t heat it up there. And it sure didn’t smell like frozen shit… I’m tired.”

“I know. But I’d really like to find Gil and Grant. I’m worried about them.”

“Go get rapists and robbers…they’ll show up.”

The nurse came in and consulted the chart, then the IV line. “How are we doing?”

Brady said, “Don’t know about you, but I’m doing shitty.”

“I’ll add a little more medicine to your drip,” the nurse said. “It’ll make you a little sleepy.”