Jonathan Kellerman - Deception

"He ever show up wearing a hat like that? Blue with-"

"Never," Kenten snapped. "Never saw anything like that."

"We haven't latched on to him randomly, Mr. Kenten. Elise Freeman was frightened of him."

"That's ridiculous."

"Spoken like a mentor."

Kenten's blue eyes hardened. "Given your unique perspective about me, I can understand your skepticism. But mark my words, Lieutenant: You won't solve your case-your cases-until you take off the blinders and stop pursuing Marty."

"Marty could help himself by showing up and submitting to an interview."

Kenten rose and rolled toward the door. "I've done my best to educate you. If I've frittered away your time, I'm truly regretful."

Milo said, "What did you mean by my 'unique perspective'?"

"Oh, come now, Lieutenant."

"I'm serious."

Kenten eyed him. "I'll take you at your word. What I meant was you need to be thinking about your boss's role in this investigation. Because of my involvement."

"How so, Mr. Kenten?"

"I was asked to serve on the Ad Hoc Public Safety Committee searching for a new police chief. I interviewed your boss and found him an interesting, capable man. But I had reservations about his judgment and his temperament. One example of his weaknesses in those areas was his pressing me to commit to hiring him early in the interview. Needless to say, I resisted, but apparently not with sufficient clarity, because he left that meeting convinced I supported him unconditionally. Nothing could've been further from the truth, though part of the blame may rest with me. I'm not one to confront, so he probably mistook lack of debate for assent. When it came time to vote on him-an allegedly confidential process-I was a dissenting voice. Since that time, he's convinced I sandbagged him."

Kenten plinked one elfin ear. "Lieutenant, don't tell me the moment he made the link between Marty and myself he didn't inform you of his version."

"Lieutenants and police chiefs don't meet regularly for tea, sir."

"That may be so, sir, but this particular chief meets with this particular lieutenant." Kenten took hold of the doorknob. Twisted, released, let his arms drop as if suddenly exhausted.

"Lieutenant Sturgis, I'm going to leave you with something to chew on: Your name came up during that first interview."

Milo blinked but remained impassive. "Did it?"

"Oh, yes," said Kenten. "He cited you as an example of what a tolerant fellow he was. I'm paraphrasing but his little speech went something like this: 'You know, Ed, there's a detective in the department named Sturgis, queerer than a second left shoe but does the job. Someone else would be put off by that lifestyle, but I keep my personal feelings of revulsion to myself as long as he continues to do the job. Send me a three-eyed, albino dwarf chimpanzee who can clear felonies, Ed, and I'll make sure it gets regular promotions.'"

Milo said, "That hasn't happened yet but we do have some knuckle-dragging primates in the department."

"Lieutenant, 'queerer than a second left shoe' is a verbatim quote. At the time, I wondered why he brought up the matter of homosexuality just to make a point. Years later, when I found out what he was saying about me, I figured it out. Not only does he think I'm insincere, he's convinced I'm gay. For the record, I'm not, though if I was I'd be comfortable with it. Any idea why he thinks that of me?"

"Why, sir?"

"I've donated substantial money to AIDS research, five million just at the U. Want to guess why I did that, Lieutenant?"

"You thought it was a good cause, sir."

"There are lots of good causes, Lieutenant. I prioritized AIDS because Major Andrew Jack Kenten, one of the finest fighter pilots the United States Air Force has ever produced, but more important a kid brother I raised after our parents died, was one of the first Americans to die of the plague. Your boss never took the time to learn that because his perspective makes it impossible for him to understand why anyone would operate outside a narrow range of selfish interest."

Kenten twisted the doorknob again. Smiled. "To be fair, I have been known to wear pastels from time to time."

"I see that, sir."

"Your boss can be an effective leader and he deserves some of the credit for the current drop in crime. Though we both know it's men and women such as yourself who do the actual work. Whatever his administrative virtues, he's wearing blinders on this case because for some reason, his son wants to attend Yale."

"For some reason?"

"I enjoyed my time there. But it's not where we get our education, Lieutenant, it's what we do with it. We both know the chief's primary goal is keeping the school out of the limelight until the letters come in."

"Marty Mendoza being a suspect could focus attention on the school."

"Not if he's no longer enrolled and is held up as an example of affirmative action gone wrong." Kenten's face flushed with anger. "To the people who run places like Prep, boys like Marty are serfs-hired help. Wrench a shoulder, good-bye."

"They hired Elise Freeman to tutor him."

"A formality and she knew it. That's why she shirked."

"Marty told you she shirked?"

"When I called to ask him how it was going, he said it wasn't going anywhere because she began sessions late, ended them early, and took phone calls throughout the hour. It was clear to Marty that she had no interest in him."

"Did she act out sexually?"

"Marty denied that, but he did say some of those calls were from male students and she was flirtatious."

"Marty denied after you asked him?"

"I asked him after he told me about the flirtatious calls," said Kenten. "I was wondering if he was veiling the truth to cover his own embarrassment."

"I've got a friend with a problem."

"Exactly."

"Flirtatious, how?"

"We didn't get into details, Lieutenant. I phoned Mary Jane Rollins, she said she'd look into it but I never got a follow-up and soon after Marty quit the sessions. But never once did he express anger toward her, Lieutenant. On the contrary, he laughed it off. To be frank, I think he was relieved."

"To be free of academic pressure."

"He's a bright boy, needs to have confidence beyond his ability to throw a baseball. If you allow another person's narrow self-interests to influence you, you'll be hindered, not helped."

Kenten flung the door open on office soundtrack. "Good luck to you."

The parking halfback handed the keys over. No more smile.

As we drove away, Milo said, "Talk about heavy-handed."

"Paying your bills with tax money can do that to you," I said.

"That reference to Yale, the clear implication was Mess with me, I take it out on little Charlie. Guy's way past overinvolved, Alex. Think there could be more than mentoring going on?"

"Another nosedive into yuck territory?"

"He does wear pastels." Smiling faintly.

"If Kenten's involved in something that sleazy and high-risk, why would he initiate a meeting and attract attention?"

"Because he can't imagine not getting his way. For all we know, Marty Mendoza's living a pampered life at Kenten's estate as we speak. His Graciousness tagged it as Paradise Cove but I looked it up and it's actually north of there, above Broad Beach. We're talking five-plus acres of oceanfront, one entry on PCH. Real easy to stash someone for a long time."

He got hold of Binchy again, ordered round-the-clock surveillance of the property's front gate, Sean alternating with Detective I Moses Reed and any "halfway intelligent" undercover officer they could find.

I said, "What about the Mendoza house?"

"That's mine. Rank has its privilege."

"El Monte outclasses Malibu?"

"I'm hoping the kid'll sneak back for some mama love. I get him away from the good life, he'll cave."