Crown's Law (8 page)

Thursday, August 13, 1998

Santa Ana, CA

On Thursday, August 13, Sam went to the
Coroner’s Office in Santa Ana to negotiate the release of Rachel’s
body. The guy on duty—Joe Murphy—knew Sam from his Sheriff’s days
and also knew he was a private detective now, so when Sam showed
him Rachel’s picture and told him he represented a client looking
for a missing girl, the man bought the story. After seeing the
picture, Murphy told Sam that they definitely had his missing
person and the cops were still searching for a next of kin so they
could release the body.

“Have this guy come in and we can get the
paperwork done,” said Murphy.

“The problem is, Joe, my client is out of the
country. But I’m his agent so you can release her to me. I’ll get
in touch with him and see what he wants to do about burial
arrangements,” lied Sam.

“Well, that’s unusual, Sam.”

“Not really. What if he sent a telegram from
London and told you to release her to me,” said Sam, thinking on
his feet.

“That would probably be OK,” answered Joe,
rubbing his chin. “Save the County some money.”

Sam called his father and explained the
problem. John Crown made a long distance phone call, and two hours
later a telegram originating in London and containing all the
appropriate authorizations arrived at the Coroner’s Office. The
body was released to Sam, who had it sent to a mortuary/crematorium
in San Clemente that the family had agreed on earlier.

On Saturday the 15th, they had a private
service at the mortuary—just the three Crowns and Becky. Rachel was
cremated and her ashes were placed in a fancy urn bought by Helena
so Becky could keep them with her wherever she might go in the
future. For the moment, she put the urn on the dresser in her room
at the beach house so she could talk to Rachel every night.

***

The following Monday, the reclamation and
rehabilitation of Rebecca Rogers began in earnest. She had her
first appointment with the renowned child psychiatrist Dr. Susan
Reinhart. Reinhart had recently moved her practice from Boston to
San Clemente so her schedule was not yet full. She could see Becky
at 2 P.M. on Monday.

None of the Crowns viewed this as a long-term
project at the time; Helena just thought that the poor, lost soul
needed some help in getting through her grieving over the loss of
her sister, not to mention her terrible past. Dr. Reinhart was an
expert in handling victims of sexual abuse and parental
abandonment.

Becky thought it was a waste of time, but she
couldn’t deny Nana Crown anything at this point, so she let John
Crown drop her off and then pick her up after the 50-minute hour.
Dr. Reinhart was in her late thirties and after answering a few
questions, Becky got the feeling that Dr. Sue—that’s what Becky
called her—was somewhat like a mother figure to her. Becky had been
told that she would have these once-a-week sessions for some time
into the future, so she decided to make a game out of it. Becky
memorized the name of several books on Dr. Sue’s shelves and
intended to start reading them. Her purpose: to see if she could
predict the questions she would be asked and be able to give the
standard responses.

Dr. Reinhart had been told by Helena Crown
that Becky was quite intelligent, so she scheduled Becky to come
back on Tuesday and take a battery of IQ tests. Dr. Sue needed to
know what kind of child she was dealing with. After the testing,
she wasn’t quite sure. She had administered hundreds of IQ tests
before, but had never seen scores like these! Plus, Becky finished
every test in half the usual time. She provided copies of the test
scores to Helena Crown so she could use them in arranging Becky’s
schooling regimen.

It didn’t take Dr. Sue long to discover the
game Becky was playing. Though she thought it amusing, she asked
Becky to stop the game and be honest with her. Becky did. That
allowed Dr. Sue to start working on Becky’s psychological
problems.

On the last weekend of the month, Sam and his
father were on the deck at cocktail hour, John with his pipe, Sam
with his Cutty and water. They were alone at the moment.

John puffed his pipe and said, “Thought you’d
like to know that I found Jake and Clara Rogers, Sam.”

“That’s good. Anything you need me to do?”
replied Sam.

“Nope. Funny how evil people eventually get
their comeuppance. Seems like the DEA made a big bust in Georgia.
Swept up a big drug gang. The Rogers were picked up in the sweep.
They were identified as part of the leadership. They’ll get 20 to
life in the Federal pen.”

Hmm
, thought
Sam.
Those two were two-bit losers, not
drug-dealing masterminds! My dad must have cooked this up with one
of his mysterious calls
.

Sam finally said, “Well, they won’t be
abusing any children in there, will they?”

“Not likely,” smiled his father.

Monday, September 13, 1999

Mickey Malone Office, Santa Ana, CA

During that first year that Sam was
Becky’s legal guardian, there were many times when his parents were
out of town pursuing their retirement pleasures. Helena Crown
deemed Becky too young to be left alone during these times, so
during those periods that they didn’t take Becky with them, Becky
became Sam’s problem to look after. Becky balked at having a
babysitter—after all, she had never had one when she lived on the
streets, and she was a year older now. Fourteen! So Sam would take
her to work with him. Becky enjoyed this immensely, since not only
did she get to spend time with Sam, she was interested in what he
did. She even got to see some great concerts when he was on
bodyguard assignments for various bands and rock groups!
Even
’NSync
once!

She became an expert in all of Sam’s advanced
surveillance gear, took karate classes with him (Sam was a black
belt who taught, when he could, at a local karate school), and she
even learned about firearms when he went to the shooting range.
When Sam went out in his surveillance van, he sometimes would take
her with him. She would take her backpack—full of books—with her
and study during the long, boring surveillance periods, headphones
on her head listening to her favorite CDs. But she was with Sam.
That’s what mattered.

When she couldn’t go with Sam, Becky
stayed in the office with Pearl. Pearl Cooper was the office
manager of
Mickey
Malone
Investigations
and the only full-time employee. Detectives from
Investigations International
rotated
through the office, but Pearl was the person who gave the office’s
cases continuity. At 26 years old, she was a slim blonde, 5’ 7”
tall, and 128 pounds. She was a devout Catholic, still a virgin,
and in search of a husband—one who met her very stringent list of
qualifications. She went to UCI night school in hopes of eventually
finishing the required courses for her MBA.

Pearl could not be seduced, as Sam found out
right away, so he had stopped trying, though he did rib her
constantly about her virginity. She returned the favor by crabbing
constantly about his womanizing.

Becky and Pearl liked each other, though
Pearl was a little bit intimidated by Becky’s overwhelming
intellect.

Becky had never actually helped Sam on a case
before Monday, September 13, 1999. She went to work with him on
that day, even though the Crowns were not out of town, just because
she liked hanging out with Sam. Even though she was only 14, she
was starting the equivalent of her junior year at UCI.

It was 10 A.M. and Sam was reviewing some
papers on his desk, a deep frown on his brow. Becky was sprawled
teenager style on his office couch while reading a physics book.
She looked up at Sam and saw that he was perplexed. She took a swig
of her Sprite.

She asked, “What’re you working on, Sam?”

He looked up and smiled at her. “Just a case.
It should have been a slam dunk, but I’m stymied. I shouldn’t be,
but I’ve got brain lock.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it. I know when
I’m stymied by a difficult concept, talking to someone about it
helps me unplug my mental roadblock,” smiled Becky. “Just forget
that I’m only a 14-year-old kid.”

Sam said, “I didn’t know you ever got mental
blocks, but OK. Here it is. The manager of this real estate office
down on South Main Street has someone stealing their petty cash.
They keep a couple hundred bucks in a metal box in the manager’s
desk drawer. It’s been swiped four times now. Yesterday was the
latest. This manager—Mary’s her name—hired us to catch the thief. I
installed a secret surveillance camera that watches the drawer with
the cash. The tape doesn’t show anyone stealing it yesterday, but
the money’s gone again. Mary suspects this secretary Helen, but I
interviewed her—in fact, I interviewed everyone in the office—and I
can’t believe Helen would do such a thing. She’s more virtuous than
Pearl!”

Becky sat up on the couch and cupped her chin
in her hand, elbow on her knee.

“Hmm,” she mused. Then she continued, “Do you
know Boolean algebra, Sam? You know, the math of logic? It’s used
to design computers.”

“No,” shrugged Sam. “Why? Do I need to know
it?”

“No, but by now you know that I’m pretty good
at logic and I use it all the time. I’m going to give you a simple
example. Suppose you have a set that consists of only items A, B,
and C.”

“What?” exclaimed Sam, mystified.

“Strike that,” said Becky. “I don’t have time
to explain set theory to you. Let’s simplify it. Suppose your real
estate office has only three people: Mary, Helen, and John. Logic
says that if it’s not Mary and not John, then it must be Helen. If
not A and not B then C. Got it?”

“Sure. I’m not an idiot! You’re just saying
that if Mary and John are innocent, then Helen is guilty. I don’t
buy it though. Something’s wrong with your math.”

“My math is never wrong! But you’re missing
the point. Whenever you start with a premise, do the math, and then
get an impossible answer, then the premise is suspect. Maybe Mary
or John did it after all. Did you see Mary put the money in the
box? Maybe the fox is watching the henhouse.”

“Yes. I watched Mary put the money in the
box. Then I turned on the surveillance camera and we both left,”
explained Sam.

Becky pondered a moment, then said, “And the
tape didn’t show anyone taking the money?”

“No.”

“Can you see the office door on the
tape?”

“No, just the desk area.”

“Where are the camera controls?”

“In a closet in the office,” replied Sam.
“Nobody knows about the camera and its controls except me and
Mary.”

“Aha, Holmes! Something’s afoot!” exclaimed
Becky.

“When did you find time to read Sherlock
Holmes?” laughed Sam.

“I read the
Complete Sherlock Holmes
when I was 12,” she
responded with a shrug. “Do you have the tape here?”

“Yes, but I assure you there’s nothing on it.
Just hours of a desk. What do you think is ‘afoot’?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just readjusting the
premise. Is there any bad blood between Mary and Helen?”

“I didn’t detect any—except the fact that
Mary is accusing Helen of this. Of course, I had a lot of
interviews to do and I might have missed something. Where is this
leading?”

“If you are so sure that Helen is innocent,
then I’m going to propose that Mary did it and wants to fix the
blame on Helen. Mary thinks that since she hired you to find the
thief that she will be above suspicion. The problem is the tape. We
know the money was stolen, but the tape doesn’t show anything. The
tape is suspect. Do you have equipment here so I can look at it?”
mused Becky. “I have an idea.”

“Sure. In the computer office. We can set it
up in there. But, I assure you, it’s a waste of time. Shouldn’t you
be studying?”

“DUH! Sam, I study constantly. I need a
break. While you set it up, I’m gonna go get a another soda.”

***

An hour later, Becky came back into Sam’s
office with a big grin on her face. He looked at her.

“Well?” he asked. “Get bored looking at a
desk?”

“No. I wasn’t looking at the desk. I know how
she did it, and when,” beamed Becky.

“Stop messing with my mind, Becky!” exclaimed
Sam.

“I’m not! Somebody took the money at about
1:16 A.M. this morning. I say it’s Mary, but we still have to prove
it.”

“How do you know that?” asked an incredulous
Sam.

“The time stamp on the tape. It took a while
to find it. I used fast forward and stared intently. There is a
time skip at 01:16:02 A.M. to 01:18:22. That means the camera was
turned off, then back on. Get the picture?”

“Why, you little devil! I think I’ll put you
on the payroll! Now we need a way to catch her.”

“That’s easy. Do what you do best.
Surveillance. Put in another camera that Mary doesn’t know about,
and put more money in the box. She’ll show up in living color!”

***

Sam did as Becky suggested, and sure enough,
caught Mary on his new camera. She sneaked into the office, turned
off the desk surveillance camera, took the cash, then turned on the
camera again and left the office. Sam kept the scam going until she
had stolen enough money to make the crime qualify as grand theft,
then he had her arrested. Helen was forever grateful, though Sam
never pursued why Mary was trying to blame Helen.

After that case, Sam often ran his problem
cases by Becky to get her views on things. The bond between them
grew stronger without either of them even noticing.