Jonathan Kellerman - Time Bomb

Latch said, “Sounds like the turd has some capacity to learn.”

Ahlward didn’t even bother to fake interest.

When you ask questions, my mind wanders .

I said, “First choice was for Ike to assassinate Massengil and get himself killed in the process. Second choice was for one of your junior SS boys to bump off Massengil, frame Ike for it, and kill him too. Same result, slightly less efficient. The only problem was, Ike resisted. Despite that kinky hair and all that melanin in his skin, he just wasn’t the violent type.”

“Fifty percent kike-blood,” said Ahlward. “Programmed for cowardice.”

“Or maybe Gordie just screwed up. Pushed too hard and got Ike suspicious. Made him wonder why a city councilman was so eager to get involved in murder. In any event, he refused to go along and turned himself into a serious liability. So you lured him to that alley with the promise of something- probably some new information about his parents. From another source. A black source- what better place to do it than Watts. Must have been fun making the call, putting on the patois.”

“Yowza, massuh,” said Latch. “We sho’ good at talkin’ that nigra talk. Ceptin’ we po’ culluhds have such a bay-ad tahm luynin to di-al that phone.”

Turning to Ahlward for approval. The redheaded man’s smile was obligatory. He fingered the black gun’s barrel and yawned.

I said, “Ike walked into the ambush and one of your SS-kateers shotgunned him, injected him with a dope cocktail, and set it up as a drug burn. Because, after all, blacks are all dope fiends, right? Who’s going to get suspicious about a junkie getting snuffed in South Central? And, by golly, you succeeded again. It went down that way in the books. Now there was only Grandma to deal with. Despite Ike’s pledge not to talk, you figured he’d confided in her. You plucked her off the street and left her body where no one will ever find it. Just for the record, where was that?”

Blank stares from both of them.

I said, “Considering you’ve got all the cards, you guys are pretty stingy.”

Ahlward said, “Sounds like you’re running out of material.”

I said, “Perish the thought. There’s plenty more. After you dispose of Sophie, you break into her place and look for any evidence she might have left behind- notebooks, diaries. Doing the neighbor’s place, too, to make it look like a burglary. But why the stuff on the walls? The Kennedy message?”

Latch couldn’t resist answering that one. “Dessert. For the troopers who performed the mission. Reward for a job well done.”

“Even revolutionaries have to party,” I said. And caught movement from Milo. An eye-blink. Volitional?

Neither of them saw it, Milo’s back was to Latch. And Ahlward was preoccupied with his gun.

Another blink. Or had I just imagined it?

I kept talking. “With both Ike and Sophie Gruenberg gone, your immediate problems finally seemed over. But there was still the matter of Massengil. You’d already started thinking of him as a dead man. So it was annoying to have to change that mind-set. And if the deed was going to be done, the timing was important. He was well into his current term, had already been nominated for the next one. So it was to your advantage for him to be eliminated before the next election. Too late for the governor to appoint someone else. The seat would lie fallow for a few months, giving you time to build up political steam and enter yet another image-stage: great conciliator, mature statesman. Sure, the widow would get first dibs, and if she didn’t want the job, some hack or crony would move in. But you had plans to take care of that, per the lovely Ms. Bramble.”

Latch said, “I do believe Ocean Heights and I will reach our own rapprochement.”

I said, “Better do it soon, before Randy pulls the purse strings closed. Or were you intending to ask for alimony?”

Sudden panic in his eyes.

Ahlward’s eyebrows were hot-pink crescents of surprise.

I said, “Oops. Sorry. I thought you knew, D.F.”

Ahlward looked at Latch.

Latch said, “He’s full of shi-”

I said. “Little Bandy definitely wants out, D.F. She’s filed papers. Check for yourself- it’s public record.”

Ahlward swiveled slowly in his chair and stared at Latch.

Latch said, “It just went down, Bud. I was going to bring it up, had it on the agenda.”

“Oops again,” I said. “Not quite true, Gordie Pordie. She filed two weeks ago. Not the greatest thing to happen at a time like this, is it, D.F.? Vis-à-vis public relations. And money-wise.” To Latch: “What happened, Gordie? Did her political enthusiasm wane? Or is it just you she’s tired of? Guess all that discipline and bondage stuff wears thin after a-”

Latch said, “Shut your filthy mouth.”

Ahlward cleared his throat.

Latch said, “It’s not a problem, Bud. She can be taken care of. She’s on so much fucking Seconal, nobody’ll-”

Ahlward’s turn to say, “Shut up! You know, Gordon, it’s real pleasant hearing it this way.”

“C’mon, Bud, you can see what he’s-”

“And you’re giving him exactly what he wants.”

Latch sank back down and played with one of his cuffs.

Milo winked. This time I was sure.

I said, “We’re talking thick coats of tarnish on your rising star, D.F. You might start thinking about a replacement.”

Ahlward raised the gun and sighted down it again. To my surprise I felt no fear, only weariness at his Little Dictator routine.

He said, “I’ve heard enough.”

Two winks from the couch. Milo’s big body remained motionless.

I said, “You mean you don’t want to hear the rest? The part you took charge of personally?”

He lowered the gun. “Go on.”

“Shortly after Ike and Grandma were taken care of, another unpleasant surprise came your way. Someone else Ike had confided in. So much for pledges of secrecy- guess Gordie wasn’t very convincing. A mentally dull shut-in who welcomed the cheer and conversation Ike brought with him when he delivered the groceries. Who appreciated the time he took to get to know her. And as he got to know her better, he lapsed into his favorite topic: politics. Not that she had more than a hazy idea of what he was talking about. Social justice, the evils of capitalism. But she was able to pick out the juicy parts. Conspiracies, murder. Wannsee Two. She sat there and listened. The perfect soundboard. Because Ike’s visits filled the emptiness in her life, she didn’t want them to stop.

“Then one day, they did stop. Forever. She found out he was dead. Murdered. People were saying he died buying dope, but she knew that was a lie became he didn’t take dope. He hated dope. She knew something was wrong- probably one of those conspiracies Ike had talked about. She withdrew further, confused. Just like when her mother died. But this time she came out of it angry. Wanting to understand why bad things happen to good people. To talk to someone who could explain it to her. Not her father- they never talk; he treats her like a servant. And she barely knows her brother. But she does recall a name Ike mentioned consulting. A former comrade of his parents who’s gotten famous- even been on TV. Someone Ike had suspicions about but didn’t share with Holly because he didn’t want to put her in jeopardy.

“Would someone like that talk to her? She was afraid. But she couldn’t forget Ike- his death. So she built up her courage and called the famous guy’s headquarters. One of the famous guy’s staff answers and hears her babbling about stuff no one’s supposed to know about, and knows this is a job for the High Command.”

I looked at Latch. “What’d you tell her?”