Faye Kellerman - Blindman’s Bluff

Marge shrugged it off. “Hey, maybe I’ll check out your gym.”

“I didn’t tell you where I worked.”

“No, you didn’t, did you?” She winked. “Are you going to make me figure that one out or are you going to tell me?”

“Let’s see how good a detective you are.”

“Sure. Thanks for your help.”

“I didn’t give you any help.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Marge said. “You never know what’s going to be helpful.” She turned to Oliver. “Let’s go.”

When they were in the car, Oliver said, “You’ve got that look in your eyes, Dunn.”

“Did you notice that Truillo said I don’t know where Julio lived-like in past tense?”

“Actually, I didn’t. You think he’s dead?”

“I think he’s definitely not around the neighborhood. Let’s take a trip downtown.” She glanced at her watch. “We need to move it, Scotty.”

“What’s the rush?”

“The offices close at five. Too bad. I could use a shot of caffeine, but I suppose it’ll have to wait.”

“You’re not going to find a Starbucks in this area anyway.”

“I actually prefer McDonald’s coffee, but I don’t want to waste the time.”

“I repeat, ‘What’s the rush?’”

“He doesn’t want to tell me who owns the bar. I want to check out business licenses.”

“Aha.” Oliver looked at his watch. It was almost four. “This can’t be done online?”

“I suppose we can find out who owns the building online through the assessor’s office, but that’s not necessarily who owns the business.”

“Can you get the name of business owners online?”

“Don’t know. And it is getting late. That’s why I think it’s simpler to go downtown.”

“So let’s just leave it until tomorrow.”

“Scotty,” Marge said, “Truillo kept referring to the owner of the bar as the boss…which in and of itself doesn’t mean too much…except that…I mean, maybe I’m just grasping, but El Patrón means The Boss in Spanish, right.”

Oliver didn’t answer. As he entered the on-ramp of the 5 freeway, he put the magnetic red light atop the unmarked and turned on the siren. In this traffic, it was the only way that they were going to make it before closing time.

OVER THE PHONE, Marge said, “Calling your boss ‘the boss’ doesn’t mean anything, but since Julio isn’t around right now, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to know who owns the bar. At the very least, we could call him or her up and ask about Julio Davis.”

“Do you have an address for Davis?”

“Wanda is working on it. Lee’s still doing paperwork to unseal Cruces’s and Pinon’s juvenile records. If we can’t unseal the entire file, we’re hoping that a judge will let us look inside and pull out the prints. We’ve got Marvin Oldham on call to do comparisons. If we get a match, we’ll pick up Cruces immediately.”

“And Messing and Pratt still have him in their sights?”

“Absolutely.”

“What about my wife?”

“We’ve got a black-and-white on Rina, and one on Harriman, too. We’re also keeping tabs on Esteban Cruz. No activity.”

“That’s good. Anything on Gil Kaffey or Antoine Resseur?”

“No.” Marge glanced at her watch. They were stuck in terrible traffic and even with the siren, it was slow going. “If we discover something interesting, I’ll buzz you back. Oliver is meeting Carmen Montenegro for dinner. Maybe Pinon’s school records will tell us something. She’s also checking to see if Martin Cruces went to the same school. If downtown turns out to be a bust, I’ve got some time. What do you need from me?”

“Our main focus is on Cruces. If we get lucky and place his prints at the scene, we’ll take him in. He’ll need to be interviewed. You want to do it?” “Sure.”

“Just keep track of everyone, Marge; Harriman, Martin Cruces, Esteban Cruz, and Alejandro Brand-he’s a real loose canon. Make sure he stays put in jail.”

“He isn’t going anywhere.”

“Hold on a sec, Marge.” Decker placed his hand over the receiver. The floor nurse, the same sixtyish looking woman who had loaned him the phone, said that Rondo Martin was up and wanted to talk to him.

“Don’t tax him too much. Otherwise the doc will give us both hell.”

“I promise. Thank you.” To Marge he said, “I’ve got to go. Martin is up. Let me know what’s going on.” He cut the line, washed his hands, and went into the ICU.

Rondo Martin appeared more awake and in a lot of pain. He lifted a veined hand with an IV needle taped to his wrist and managed to point to the chair by his bedside. Decker sat and as the former deputy sheriff shifted his position to move a little closer, his face contorted. Sweat trickled down his forehead.

“You need something for the pain, Rondo?” Decker asked.

“Demerol helps…but it knocks me out.” A slight smile. “Didn’t die before…ain’t gonna die now.”

“Tell me about Martin Cruces.”

“Cruces…” A nod. “He was there.”

“You’re sure?”

A nod. He closed his eyes. Under the lids, his orbs were moving rapidly. “It was Denny…he said… Denny said, ‘Martin’…I thought he meant me.” He paused, his eyes quivering. “I turned around…he exploded…Denny did.” He opened his eyes, weary and bloodshot. “It was Cruces. I’m positive.”

“Weren’t the shooters wearing masks?”

“No…not Joe…not Cruces. Wish they did. I see their ugly mugs every time I close my eyes.”

“And you’re sure that it was Cruces who shot Denny Orlando?”

Again, he closed his eyes. “I…I don’t know who fired…” A pause, then he opened his eyelids. “But Cruces was there.” He readjusted his position, but he was still in pain.

“That would make sense,” Decker told him. “Someone overheard a gangbanger talk about the murder. He mentioned Joe Pine, calling him José Pinon, and said that he ran out of ammo, that he didn’t kill Gil Kaffey. He said that Martin was pissed. Logically, I thought he meant you since you were missing.”

“Who’s the banger?” Martin asked.

“The kid named Alejandro Brand. His grandmother is named Cruz, so he might be related to Cruces. Are you sure you don’t know him?”

Martin shook his head no.

“Brand is a member of Bodega 12th Street gang. So is Pine. We think Cruces is as well. I can’t understand why Guy would hire thugs to guard him or his property.”

“Guy…he wanted to…to give back.”

“By hiring thugs?”

“He hired all kinds…like Paco…to give back.”

“Is that how Ana got the job?”

He nodded.

“And you got the job with Kaffey through Ana?”

A shake of the head said no. “Through Paco.”

“You met Paco before Ana?”

“No. I met Ana here…in Ponceville. She told me about…her uncle. He worked in L.A. and could get her a paying job as a maid. She was working in the fields before…stoop labor. I told her to take it.”

He took in a deep breath and when he let it out, he winced.

“Hard to get work if you’re illegal. Later, Paco set me up with Neptune Brady…so Ana and I could be together…no one knew about us. I didn’t want Brady to find out…Ana to get deported.”

“I understand.”

“Guy wanted to give back. It bit him in the ass.”

“Neptune Brady said Guy hired thugs because they were cheap.”

He thought about it. “Maybe that, too.”

“So you don’t know Alejandro Brand?”

“No.”

“How about Esteban Cruz?”

“Another Cruz? What does he look like?”

Decker tried to remember Marge’s description. “Scrawny kid around seventeen.”

Martin thought about it. “No…don’t sound familiar.”