Стюарт Вудс - Desperate Measures

Everybody gazed lazily aft, then Dino got to his feet and shaded his eyes. “Get me some binoculars,” he said to a crewman. The man vanished and came back with the instrument. Dino focused. “It’s one of two things,” he said. “It’s either a life-size doll or a dead body. I think we should find out which.”

Two crew members ran down to the dock, got an outboard motor started, and puttered out to where the pink lump floated. The commander of the studio police came out onto the deck and joined them, radio in hand. The instrument squawked, and there was an exchange of information. “It’s the body of a woman,” he said.

Dino spoke up. “Then you’d better call somebody you know on the LAPD and ask for homicide detectives, the ME, a crime scene team, and an ambulance.”

The man made the call, and the two crewmen began ferrying the body back to the dock.

“I think we’d better have a look at this,” Dino said.

Stone followed him ashore and down to the dock. “Leave her in the boat,” Dino said to them. He and Stone got in and had a close look at the body.

“Was she serving drinks?” Dino asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” Stone said. He turned to the captain, who had followed them down. “Do you know her?”

“No,” the man said.

“I think you’d better conduct a roll call and see who’s missing,” Stone said. “That’ll give the police a head start when they get here.”

The captain left and returned with a clipboard. “I’ve checked the whole list,” he said, “and nobody’s missing.”

Ben stepped up. “I’ve given instructions for every department to count heads and report anyone who’s missing from their offices.”

The LAPD arrived and were greeted by the commander of the studio police, who brought them to the dock.

An older detective said, “My God, is that Dino Bacchetti?”

The two pumped hands and Dino introduced everybody. “This is Lieutenant Molder Carson, known to one and all as ‘Moldy.’”

“What’ve we got here?” Carson asked, walking over to the boat.

“What you specialize in?” Dino said.

“Has anybody fucked with the body?”

“Only to get her out of the water and into the boat,” Dino said. “I watched them, and they did it well.”

The medical examiner arrived with the ambulance and made a quick examination of the body. “She’s badly bruised pretty much all over, but I can’t find a fatal wound. I need to get her back to the morgue, and on a table, before I can tell you more.”

The corpse was placed in a body bag and driven away.

Stone and Dino walked slowly to their waiting carriage, followed by the others.

“Notice anything familiar about her?” Dino asked.

“No, I don’t know her.”

“Well, she’s not much more than five feet tall, a hundred pounds, and blond.”

Faith, who was walking beside Stone, stopped, then turned aside and vomited.

They all had dinner at the table by the pool. While the others chatted, Stone and Dino managed a more private conversation.

“It’s a coincidence,” Stone said.

“You think everything is a coincidence,” Dino replied. “You say so all the time.”

“No, I don’t. What I say all the time is that our lives are made up of strings of coincidences, that if you take any important, life-changing event in your history and trace it back far enough, you’ll find that some slim coincidence changed everything. And if you string enough of those coincidences together, what you get is fate.”

“That’s just so much horseshit,” Dino said evenly. “I don’t believe in coincidences, especially where homicides are concerned.”

“Oh, come on, Dino.”

“You think it’s any kind of coincidence at all that a body turns up in L.A., where you and I are, and the crime closely matches three, four others in New York?”

“Well...”

“These homicides are not only connected,” Dino said, “they’re perpetrated by the same person or persons.”

“Well,” Stone said, “if the ME’s estimate of time of death is correct, then that couldn’t be the case because this murder and the last one in New York were committed at roughly the same time, two days ago — while we were dining on roast chicken at Rotisserie Georgette — so it can’t be the same guy.”

“There’s a connection, believe me,” Dino said. “And on top of it all, they’re fucking with you and me, just for fun.”

“They’re not fucking with me,” Stone said. “You’re the cop. If they’re fucking with anybody, it’s you. Don’t you feel fucked with?”

“Of course, I do,” Dino said, “but the connection in all this is Faith.”

“Let me get this straight,” Stone said. “You think they’re picking victims who look like Faith, just to drive me crazy?”

“Aren’t they driving you crazy?’ Dino asked.

“Well, a little, I guess.”

“Then whatever they’re doing is working.”

“They’re driving you crazy, too,” Stone pointed out.

“Thank God the victims don’t look like Viv, or I would already be crazy.”

“Do you think Faith is safe out here?” Stone asked. Faith was tucked up in bed in the guesthouse with a cup of broth to settle her stomach.

“How the hell should I know?” Dino asked. “She was within fifty yards of our floater half a dozen times this afternoon. The perps could have snatched her, if they’d felt like it.”

The butler approached. “The medical examiner is on the phone for Commissioner Bacchetti,” he said. He led Dino to a lounge chair a few feet away and handed him a phone.

Dino put his feet up and chatted for a couple of minutes, then he put down the phone and returned to the table. “Okay,” he said, “the ME confirms his first estimate of time of death. The girl had a tiny purse tucked into her vagina, just big enough to hold her driver’s license, a credit card, and a few bucks. Her name is Elizabeth Sweeney.”

“Where does she live?”

“Santa Monica.”

Viv came over and sat with them.

“We’re going to stop talking about this now. We’re going to all behave as if we’ve had a pleasant day in the California sunshine, riding down the L.A. branch of the Mississippi River,” Dino said.

“All that is true,” Viv said.

“And we’re enjoying a good dinner under the stars, and the ME didn’t call.”

“The ME called?” Viv asked. “What did he say?”

“You see why I’m going crazy here?” he asked Stone.

“She died in L.A. while Dino and I were having dinner in New York,” Stone said. “Her name is Elizabeth Sweeney, and she lives in Santa Monica.”

“And Dino thinks the killings are related.”

“It was his idea,” Dino replied, pointing at Stone.

“Don’t point that thing at me,” Stone said. “You had the same idea at the same time.”

“This is why I’m going crazy,” Dino said. “I’ve already ruled out the killings as a subject of dinner table conversation, so that we can enjoy our dinner and the evening, but you people just won’t leave it alone.”

Viv kissed him on the forehead. “I’m sorry, darling, of course we’ll stop talking about it, won’t we, Stone?”

“Absolutely,” Stone replied.

“How did they identify her?” Viv asked.

Dino picked up his dinner plate and carried it to the other end of the pool, where he collapsed on a chaise longue and tried to eat.

“Oops,” Viv said.

The following morning after breakfast Dino convened a meeting around Stone’s dining room table. Present were himself, Stone, and Viv, plus the two LAPD detectives assigned to the case and their captain.