Jonathan Kellerman - Evidence

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#1 New York Times bestselling author Jonathan Kellerman writes unforgettable tales of crime and detection that expose the shadowy side of glittering Los Angeles. And in Evidence, readers are once again in the dexterous grip of a master storyteller and stylist equally skilled at teasing your brain and taking your breath away.
In the half-built skeleton of a monstrously vulgar mansion in one of L.A. 's toniest neighborhoods, a watchman stumbles on the bodies of a young couple-murdered in flagrante and left in a gruesome postmortem embrace. Though he's cracked some of the city's worst slayings, veteran homicide cop Milo Sturgis is still shocked at the grisly sight: a twisted crime that only Milo 's killer instincts-and psychologist Alex Delaware's keen insights-can hope to solve.
While the female victim's identity remains a question mark, her companion is ID'd as eco-friendly architect Desmond Backer, who disdains the sort of grandiose superstructure he's found dead in. And the late Mr. Backer, it's revealed was also notorious for his power to seduce women.
The rare exception is his ex-boss, Helga Gemein, who's as indifferent to Desmond's death as she apparently was to his advances. Though Milo and Alex place her on their short list of suspects, the deeper they dig for clues the longer the list grows. An elusive prince who appears to harbor decidedly American appetites, an eccentric blueblood with an ax to grind, one of Desmond's restless ex-lovers and her cuckolded husband-all are in the homicidal mix spiced with eco-terrorism, arson, blackmail, conspiracy, and a vendetta that runs deep. But when the investigation veers suddenly in a startling direction, it's the investigators who may wind up on the wrong end of a cornered predator's final fury.

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“Did Dahlia take your advice?”

“If she did, she never said.”

“How’d she meet Prince Teddy?”

“At first she didn’t know he was a prince.”

“She found out after they’d been dating.”

“Uh-huh. Guess she liked him for himself.”

“How they meet?”

“At the Le Beverly-it’s a hotel in Beverly Hills, small, from the outside you can’t tell, it looks like an apartment building. Dahlia had a pass to get into the private bar, it’s up at the third floor. I was supposed to go to a party but my date canceled and I was bummed and bored and I called Dahlia and she said, ‘Let’s go to B.H., we’ll have some fun.’ She’d been there before. I could tell ’cause the bartender knew her drink-Blue Lagoon, they mix it with a special orange liqueur that’s colored blue. Dahlia said she liked the taste but mostly used it like an accessory.”

“Fashion accessory?”

“She had these incredible blue eyes, liked to wear colors that brought them out, mostly red and yellow. But also a bit of blue, here and there. Like jewelry, you know? She said the Blue Lagoon worked like jewelry, helped bring people’s attention up to her eyes. She was like that. Artistic. Her house was full of her paintings. All blue, these wavy designs. Like the ocean, you know?”

“So,” said Milo, “you and Dahlia were in the private room of the Le Beverly.”

“I was drinking my Mojito and Dahlia was drinking her Blue Lagoon and the only other people were some Asian guys across the room, playing backgammon. Dahlia made a joke about their being Asian. ‘I take you to this great place to get away from work and it ends up looking just like work.’ I laughed and she laughed and then one of them came over and for a second I thought they heard us and were ticked off. But the guy was smiling, saying, ‘Women are beautiful when they’re happy. If you’d agree to join us, we’d be highly proud.’ Something like that, kind of lame. He had an accent but you could understand him. We figured he was the assistant because he was the smallest of them and not the most handsome and the worst dressed. The other two guys were younger, taller, real handsome, in Zegna suits. Later I found out they were the bodyguards and he had come over himself.”

“Prince Teddy.”

“He just called himself Ted. You’d never know he was anything important, he just had on a sweater and jeans. And he looked real young. Shorter than Dahlia, but she said, ‘Sure,’ and we got up and joined them. Without asking me, but that was okay, mostly I let Dahlia make the decisions. It was her got me in there in the first place.”

“So you joined Ted and his bodyguards.”

“We didn’t know they were bodyguards, we just thought they were three guys. They ordered some bar food and more drinks, put their backgammon away. No one was nasty or gross, it was nice and polite. The bodyguards, you’d never know they were bodyguards.”

“They didn’t act tough.”

“They acted like his friends. Just guys hanging out.”

“Rich guys.”

She blinked. “Yeah, I guess so, being in the private lounge. But that’s not what got Dahlia to join them, money didn’t impress her, she had her own. She told me afterward she thought he was cute and sweet and real smart. I guess he was smart, he could talk about all sorts of things.”

“Like what?”

“Nature, travel? I really wasn’t listening.”

“Dahlia reported to you afterward,” he said.

“The next morning,” said Ati Meneng, coloring. “Yeah, okay, she went home with him. But it wasn’t like she ditched me. When we were in the ladies’ room, she told me she’d decided to do it, but only if I was okay with it. He seemed like fun, she wanted some fun. She insisted on giving me cab money. I had an early audition, anyway.”

“Was that pretty typical for Dahlia? Going with guys she just met?”

Black eyes sparked. “She was not a slut.”

“Of course not,” said Milo. “I’m just asking if she made quick decisions.”

“No,” said Ati Meneng. “She’d dance with guys, kiss them on the dance floor, even… sometimes she’d go off to a private VIP room. But I never saw her leaving for a whole evening with a guy. Never.”

“She must’ve really liked Teddy.”

“Once they started dating, I hardly ever saw her. But I was cool with that, everyone has their own life.”

“Eventually, she told you who he was.”

“That was maybe… weeks after, I can’t remember. We hadn’t seen each other and all of a sudden Dahlia called to catch up. Said he was out of town, let’s go to Spago. She thought it was funny.”

“What was?”

“How we thought he was the assistant and he turned out to be from one of the richest families in the world. She said he still didn’t like to dress up. Sometimes he rented a cheap car and drove to McDonald’s and ate cheeseburgers. Next day he’d be in his Gulf-stream, that’s a jet, flying anywhere he wanted. She flew in it, too, said it was all pimped up, black wood, black everything inside.”

“Where’d he fly Dahlia?”

“Mostly Vegas, but one time Hawaii. He liked to gamble. Dahlia’s only thing was when she was with him she didn’t drink, ’cause he was Muslim.”

“He wasn’t drinking that night at the Le Beverly?”

“Diet Coke,” she said. “His thing was Diet Coke. But he wasn’t whack about it, you know? Religion, I mean. Basically, she thought he was a cool little guy. That’s what she called him. My cool little guy.”

“She ever talk about problems in the relationship?”

“He could get grumpy, had a temper, but not to worry, he was already a member of the…” Blushing, she drew hair across her face.

Milo said, “Member of what?”

“It was just a joke.”

“A joke about what?”

No answer.

Milo said, “What club was Teddy a member of?”

The hair fell away. “Not a real club, just a joke. The Three F Club. She said it was the only way to a man’s heart. Three F’s-feed ’em, flatter ’em, fuck ’em. Don’t write that down, I don’t want my parents to see it.”

“You see paper and pencil anywhere, Ati?”

“I’m just saying.”

“So Dahlia never complained about Teddy being aggressive or violent with her?”

“Never.”

“Just grumpy with a temper.”

“Nothing whack, like any guy.”

“But you told Detective Reed he hurt her.”

“Because I believe he did.”

“You believe?”

“I can’t prove it, but…”

“You suspect.”

Nod.

“Why, Ati? This is important.”

“Did he?”

“We don’t know, Ati. Help us.”

She breathed in. Exhaled slowly. “The last time I heard from her she was going traveling with him, she said she’d be back in a few days, we’d hang out. But she never called and I never heard from her again and when I called her phone, it was disconnected and when I went to her house, no one was there.”

“Where’d she say she was traveling with Teddy?”

“Back home,” she said. “His home.”

“Sranil.”

She frowned. “My parents told me about it. It’s a weird place, full of like old-fashioned peasants. Indonesia’s modern. Sranil’s just an island that never became part of Indonesia. Teddy didn’t like it himself, was going over there to get a bunch of his money and come back here and live with Dahlia. He was already building a house. He wanted to be modern and be with any woman he wanted even if she was white, not be under his brother’s thumb.”

“Dahlia told you all that.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe she went there with Teddy and decided to stay.”

“No way,” said Ati Meneng. “That’s why I know something happened to her. She totally planned to come back. Promised me we’d hang out when she got back. But she never got back.”

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