Robert Crais - Chasing Darkness

“All right, listen-here’s what I can do. That’s very specific. That’s just looking in some boxes to see what’s what, right?”

“It won’t take long.”

“I’ll have Lindo do it. He’ll bitch, but he’ll do it. He can go in early and take a look when no one’s around.”

“They keep the room locked.”

“Cole, wake the fuck up-the department uses these offices every time someone squirts a new task force out their ass. They don’t change the locks. I know five different people down there who have keys to that room. I used to have them myself.”

“Lindo can’t be involved. If Lindo looks, I’ll have to tell him what to look for, and he’ll figure it out. The more people who know, the greater the chance Marx will find out.”

“There are ways to do this, man. There are people we can talk to.”

Starkey wasn’t liking it, and I couldn’t blame her. I twisted sideways, the better to face her.

“I know what I’m asking. You tell me you can’t get involved, that’s fine. I mean it.”

“Oh, that’s big of you, Cole. That is amazingly generous. If I decline to help you commit a crime against my employer, which just happens to be the Los Angeles Police Department, me being a sworn officer and all, you won’t hold it against me. How did I become so lucky?”

I felt myself flush.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m talking about a city councilman and a deputy chief who might be abetting the deaths of seven women. I can’t bring something like this forward until it’s tied up so tight Marx and Wilts can’t use their influence to duck it.”

Starkey rubbed at the sides of her face again.

“God, I’m hungry. A real date would’ve fed me before he fucked me.”

I straightened behind the wheel, even more embarrassed.

“Let’s forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, you shouldn’t have asked. Jesus Christ.”

“It’s my play. I didn’t want you involved.”

Starkey glanced at me, then studied her watch. She reached into her purse, took out a cigarette, and lit up even though I don’t let people smoke in my car.

“Looks like I’m involved whether you like it or not. I’ll get you in there myself.”

She waved her cigarette to fan the smoke.

“Don’t just stare at me, Cole. Buy us a couple of falafels and let’s get going. Traffic’s gonna be a bitch.”

THE CRIMINAL Conspiracy Section’s primary task was investigating bomb events. Most of the time when the bomb squad investigated a suspicious package, the package turned out to be someone’s abandoned laundry or a forgotten briefcase. But if the bomb squad determined the package to be an improvised explosive device, the CCS was tasked with identifying and investigating the person or persons who built the bomb. Such events could happen at any time, which meant CCS detectives might be working at any hour.

As we made our way through prime rush-hour traffic, Starkey sketched out her plan.

“Everyone bags it around four except for the duty officer. The D.O. hangs around doing paperwork, but that works for us. As long as the D.O.’s on duty the squad room is open. We just need to give everyone else time to leave.”

“Okay. Then what?”

“I am going to get us into the building. Then I’ll show you the file room and keep the duty officer busy while you see what you can find out about their investigation. How easy is that?”

“Okay. But what if they had a call-out and everyone’s working?”

Starkey made an irritated grin.

“Then I guess we don’t do this tonight, do we?”

“Guess not.”

“They don’t grow’m for brains where you come from, do they?”

“Guess not.”

“See the drugstore ahead on the right? Pull over and give me twenty bucks.”

Starkey returned a few minutes later with a two-pound box of chocolates and a fresh pack of cigarettes. We continued downtown, though neither of us said very much after we bought the candy.

When we reached the Spring Street building, Starkey directed me to a public parking lot across the street where an attendant made me pay in advance, but let me park it myself. Parking was easy at the end of the day, offering plenty of spots with a view of the building’s entrance. We watched as the detectives and plainclothes officers who worked in the building left. After a while Starkey checked the time, then glanced at me.

“Get rid of your gun.”

“It’s under the seat.”

“You have a camera?”

“Yeah.”

I had a small Sony digital in case something was in the files I wanted to record.

Starkey said, “Leave it. We don’t need attention at the security station. Leave any pens, coins, anything like that.”

I left it all, then walked with her across the street toward the entrance. A trickle of plainclothes officers were still leaving, but most were already gone.

Starkey said, “Looks good. Let’s do it.”

She took my hand, twined her fingers through mine, and gave me a beaming smile.

“Make a dimple for Mama. That’s it, Cole-look like you’re pleased with yourself.”

Starkey pulled me into the lobby and focused her attention on a muscular uniformed officer seated at the security station. A metal detector was set up beside him, but Starkey stepped around it without hesitating, and headed straight for the elevators.

“Yo, Manuel! You better wake up back there. They might make you start working for a living.”

Manuel gave her an easy smile.

“Yo, Bombs. Where you been, girl?”

Starkey raised our hands to show him how our fingers were wrapped together.

“Puttin’ this smile on my man’s face. Did Beth get back yet?”

Beth Marzik had been Starkey’s partner at CCS.

“No idea, babe. She might’ve come in through parking.”

Manuel glanced at me but didn’t seem overly concerned.

Starkey pulled me steadily toward the elevator as if the building belonged to her, walking backwards to keep up the patter with Manuel. She waved the candy at him with her free hand.

“Her birthday’s next week. Make her share, man. Don’t let her keep it all for herself.”

“I’m on it, Starkey. You be good.”

“Not in this life.”

Starkey backed me into the elevator as the doors closed. We stood silently for a moment, breathing.

I said, “You’re something.”

“Aren’t I?”

I realized we were still holding hands, and let go.

“Sorry.”

We rode in silence to the fifth floor, then Starkey took my hand again as the doors opened onto a short hall.

“Just follow my lead. If we walk into something I can’t handle, all we have to do is walk out.”

“I’m good.”

“Your hand is sweating.”

“That’s called fear.”

“Jesus, dude. Chill.”

Starkey’s hand was cool and dry. I guess if you de-armed bombs for a living, sneaking into the police department wasn’t impressive.

I followed her past a placard that read CRIMINAL CONSPIRACY SECTION into a large modern room divided into cubicles. The cubicles appeared deserted. Starkey raised her voice.

“Knock, knock, knock! I knew this place would fall apart when I left!”

A balding man stepped from a doorway at the far end of the room. He was short and neat with a tie on his short-sleeve shirt, and appeared to be holding a napkin.

“Carol?”

Starkey hit him with the smile and tugged me toward him.

“Hiya, Jorge. How’d you get stuck with the duty?”

The man seemed awkward and surprised, but he was probably always awkward around Starkey. He wiped his hands as we approached.

“My turn in the rotation, is all. What brings you by, Carol? Everyone’s gone.”