Faye Kellerman - Sacred and Profane

Morrison sat across his desk, eyes fixed on Decker’s face.

“You want to tell me what the hell is going on, Pete? You’ve requested two search warrants and a tail on some stockbroker named Dustin Pode.”

“The warrants are for his father’s home and studio. Cecil Pode is a snuff film distributor. I’m betting he’s involved in Lindsey Bates’s abduction and death. After I questioned him, I think he cut town. I want to see if he left anything incriminating behind.”

“Who says he’s a snuff distributor-the pimp you talked to?”

“He and another source.”

“Who?”

Decker rubbed his eyes and suppressed a yawn.

“A hooker. Her street name’s Kiki. She seems on the up-and-up.”

Morrison thought for a moment, then said, “Let’s do it this way. We’ll try for search warrants for Pode’s house and studio based on what you found out from Truscott. Unlikely we’ll get them without something concrete. A still or a film or at least someone who saw Bates and Pode together the day of her disappearance.”

“Dunn is going to comb the Galleria and ask around at all the stores. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Maybe,” the Captain said.

“What about the tail?” Decker said.

“Dustin Pode is a private citizen who isn’t residing or working in our jurisdiction. He hasn’t been implicated. “You don’t have any real evidence on Cecil Pode; you have nothing on Dustin Pode. A tail is out of the question. Takes up too much manpower.”

“I have a gut feeling that Dustin Pode is involved.”

“You’re a good intuitive cop, Pete, but I can’t authorize men based on your hunches.”

“At least send Hollander out to talk to Dustin Pode about his father. Maybe Dustin will implicate Daddy in something naughty,” Decker said. “Mike’s got a light load this morning.”

“You can talk to Dustin Pode,” said Morrison. “I’ve no problem with that.”

Decker stalled a moment. He didn’t want to tell Morrison about his Jack Cohen alias just yet. “Let Hollander handle it. He’s good with these broker types. He loves to play dumb.”

“Fine. Hollander goes out for a one-shot deal. But scratch any idea about a tail.” Morrison lit a cigarette. “You’ve done a good job, Pete. Taken a dead case and breathed some life into it. Just don’t go overboard. And don’t do anything dumb-ass with this Dustin Pode. I don’t want a citizen’s harassment complaint slapped on this division. God knows LAPD gets enough fabricated shit from the papers. Let’s not give them something real to work with.”

Decker nodded.

“Now what is this about getting another juvey into the Donaldson halfway house?”

“I owe someone a favor.”

Morrison didn’t press it.

“Okay,” he said. “Start the paperwork.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

“When are you taking the lieutenant’s exam?”

“I thought maybe next year.”

“Why not this year?”

“I haven’t had a hell of a lot of time to study.”

“You’re a lawyer, Pete. After the bar, the exam should be a snap.”

Decker shrugged. He didn’t have time to study because the yeshiva courses were occupying all his free time-or lack thereof. But he couldn’t tell the captain that.

Morrison looked disapproving, but said nothing. He stood up and walked away without a word. Decker rubbed his eyes.

Man, he was tired.

The phone rang.

“Decker.”

“It’s the illustrious Patsy Lee Newford, better known as the redheaded superspy.”

“Patsy Lee Newford?”

“Hey Decker, that’s a boss name in Indiana.” She laughed, sounding like a soprano jackhammer.

“What do you have for me, Kiki?”

“Pode took a hike.”

“Know where he went?”

“Uh uh. But he was one of the major distributors of snuff films ’round these parts.”

“Yeah,” Decker said. “I found that out.”

A little too late.

“Have any other names of snuff men?” he asked.

“Nope. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Lie low, Kiki. This is getting messy. You’ve done enough. I’m working on paying you back like we discussed.”

She was silent.

“You there?” he asked.

“Yeah. I can’t believe you’re coming through.”

“Call me back in a week,” he said. “It should be all set up.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can dig up in the meantime.”

“No!” Decker said, more loudly than he’d intended to. “Just cool it. We’ll find Pode ourselves. Don’t do any more.”

She was silent again.

“Kiki, if you keep poking around, you’re gonna get whacked. Is that straightforward enough?”

“Hey, I did all right so far. I can take care of myself.”

“Honey, I’m sure you can,” Decker said, backing off. “How ’bout you doing me a favor and just keep your nose clean until I can get you into this program?”

A long pause on the other end of the line.

“What’s it like?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“It’s a really good place, Kiki. Lots of trees and grass and a swimming pool. The people are good-strict but honest. You’ll do real well there.”

“Will you visit me?”

Decker hesitated, then said, “No. But you’ll make loads of friends, honey. Good friends.”

“What if I don’t make it, you know? I mean what if-”

“Kiki, let’s take it one day at a time.”

“It’s just that I’m not so sure it’s what I want. I mean I want to get off of the streets you know, but I’m real independent like.”

“You’ll do fine.”

“I mean I got a couple of quirks you know.”

“Everyone has quirks.”

“Do they have TVs there?”

“Yes.”

“Do they watch Walley George?”

Decker smiled. “I’m sure you’ll get TV privileges.”

“I dunno…I just dunno if I’m ready. Maybe I’m better off working for you.”

“Kiki, if you want to help me out, keep yourself out of trouble until I contact you, okay?”

“How will you know where to find me?”

“Still got my card?”

“Uh huh.”

“Then come by the station house in a week. You need bread in the meantime?”

“I’m okay.”

“Then come by in a week.”

She was silent for a long time.

“I’m a little nervous, you know.”

“That’s okay, Kiki. Everyone gets nervous occasionally. Even big, macho cops who pack iron. You come by in a week. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, then hung up the phone.

Decker placed the receiver back in the cradle and leaned back in his chair. He felt good. Marge came over to him with a hot cup of coffee.

“Drink,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“How much sleep did you get last night, Rabbi?”

“’Bout two hours.”

“Taking the morning off?”

“Not until I find Pode.”

“Good luck,” she said. “I’m off to the Galleria.” She zipped up her shoulder bag and looked at the leather shredding around the seams. “Maybe I’ll look at purses as long as I’m there. This one is shot. Literally. An old gun I used to carry accidentally discharged and blew a hole out the bottom. I patched it up with electrical tape. Think it’s time for a new one?”

“I’d say that’s reasonable.”

“Can I pick you up anything as long as I’m out?”

Sleep, a steak, and sex, he thought. In that order.

“No thanks,” he said.

“Anything?” Decker asked hopefully.

“Nothing,” Hollander answered.

Angrily, Decker crumpled a piece of scratch paper and threw it in the garbage. Marge hadn’t come up with anything at the Galleria either. If he didn’t come through with some hard evidence, Lindsey would remain an open file. He felt he owed her more.