Fallen Angels (40 page)

“Not crazy enough to go to jail.”

“Actually, Walsh told me he found out later Hillary had given her mother a check for $25,000 and he suspects that’s the real reason.”

“Mrs. Dennis conned money out of Peter Lange too for a promise not to sue. Blackmail gene must run in the family.”

“So it seems,” Behan said.

“What’s your game plan?” she asked. She needed him to take control of the investigation again. Her focus now had to be convincing Fletcher to step in and control Bright, force him to talk to Behan and not hide behind his rank. Josie feared it would be tricky business manipulating those enlarged egos.

Behan hesitated, maybe expecting to be told what to do, then regrouped and said, “Perry’s our first target and then Bright. If he wasn’t doing Bright’s bidding, he probably did it for Hillary. If he did it for her, then the question is, ‘what was Hillary to him and what was his alibi the night Misty was killed.’ ”

“You gonna show Perry’s picture to Roy Mitchell?” Josie asked, not expecting to rely too much on the smelly bum’s eyewitness account.

“I’ll put a six-pack together and see if I can locate Roy.”

“I thought you were keeping tabs on him.”

“He’s not the kind of guy that keeps regular hours.”

“Take your laptop and show him Perry in Hillary’s movie where he’s moving and talking,” Josie said. Roy Mitchell had heard a voice and saw someone that night, but his whiskey-soaked brain might need visual aides.

They decided Behan would call Art Perry first and have him come to Hollywood station, telling him it was a follow-up interview, while Josie met Fletcher in her satellite office on Sunset Boulevard. At some point, Bright would have to be confronted and the chief of police told what they had, but Josie wanted Fletcher on board before any of that happened. In order to gain the councilwoman’s confidence, Josie knew she’d have to tell her everything . . . almost everything.

After a shower, Josie dressed in her uniform, felt revived, and ready to face her task. She couldn’t wait until this case was over. Her uniform was getting baggier every day, which meant she wasn’t eating right, was drinking too much and had lost a lot of weight, which she couldn’t afford to do, since she already looked like one of those runway models on a bulimic diet. Having to reason with Fletcher probably wouldn’t do much for her appetite, but it had to be done.

Before Josie arrived at the councilwoman’s office, Behan called on her cell phone to say he’d contacted Art Perry. Bright’s adjutant agreed to another interview and was on his way to Hollywood station.

Most of the councilwoman’s staff was out of the office when Josie arrived. Fletcher had a messy desk in the corner of a room that reminded Josie of her son’s bedroom when he was sixteen years old . . . tacky posters, inappropriate slogans and a casual environment taken to a juvenile extreme.

“What’s going on, Captain?” were Fletcher’s first words. She was cold, and obviously hadn’t forgiven Josie’s audacity in defying her. Josie was certain she wouldn’t get out of that office without at least a lecture on trust and an apology. She intended to talk fast and crush the woman with an avalanche of facts, hoping to wipe the needle exchange arrests out of her mind.

“This is gonna take a few minutes,” Josie said, and began with the two homicides, going through each of the investigations including all their connections to Milano and the Manuci crime family, and finally Hillary’s journal and the possible involvement of Bright, Goldman and other city councilmen.

She explained how Art Perry had accessed information in the D.A.’s witness protection program, and why Misty Skylar had most likely been killed by associates of the Manuci family after she murdered Hillary Dennis—who was probably blackmailing her. Josie couldn’t prove any of it yet, but was impressed by how convincing she sounded.

“We’ll offer the snitches a deal on their felony drug charges to tell us how Misty got the stolen gun that was used to kill Hillary. The real mystery still is who killed Misty for the Manucis.”

“You think Art Perry did it?” Fletcher asked.

“It might make sense,” Josie said. “But why would he risk his career or worse to help Hillary unless he had a serious relationship with her?” She knew there might be a second possibility that Milano had paid Perry a lot of money to dispose of Misty as a favor to the Manuci family, but there was no proof of that.

“Maybe Hillary Dennis was blackmailing him too.”

“Maybe,” Josie said. That was another possibility, unlikely, but a possibility. “I’ve got to ask a favor,” she added, finally getting to her real reason for being there. Fletcher was quiet. Josie expected her to bring up the needle exchange before agreeing to anything, but maybe being overwhelmed by so much information, she didn’t. Josie quickly continued, “We need to deal with Bright without interference from the chief of police.”

“You can’t keep the chief of police in the dark about something like this.”

“Just temporarily, until we’ve had a chance to confront him without the command officers’ association or their lawyer protecting him. If he was having sex with an underage prostitute, he shouldn’t get to walk away and pretend it never happened.”

“Prove your case and he won’t,” Fletcher said.

“I can’t prove my case if he’s able to hide behind rank and department protocol. He can bully me, but if you tell him you know about the journal and you’re worried he’s involved somehow in Hillary’s murder, he might agree to talk to us and tell the truth. Tell him you’ll go to the media with the whole mess if he doesn’t.”

“But I don’t know anything . . . not for certain.”

“Who cares,” Josie said, raising her voice in frustration. “The whole idea is to make him think you know more than you do. He’ll talk to us about sex with a minor if he thinks he’s suspected of being an accomplice to murder.”

“I’m not certain I can or should do this.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Just tell him what I said and we’ll do the rest.”

Another twenty minutes of reassuring Fletcher she was doing the right thing and Josie got her promise to confront Bright, pressure him to come forward and tell the truth about his relationship with Hillary.

While Josie waited, Fletcher called West bureau and was told they expected Bright back in the office later that afternoon or early the next morning. She promised Josie she’d talk to him as soon as he arrived, and if he agreed, she’d call Josie with a time and place for the interview.

“Frankly, I can’t find any real victims in this mess,” Fletcher said pensively, walking with Josie out to her car. “Blackmail, prostitution, organized crime . . . it’s difficult to feel sorry for any of them, even the dead ones.”

She’d never liked Fletcher for a lot of reasons. The councilwoman was arrogant, oppressive and lacked scruples, but this morning Josie might’ve discovered the true root of her aversion. The woman was a cold, hard-hearted bitch.

TWENTY-ONE

W
hen Josie returned to Hollywood station, Behan told her Art Perry hadn’t arrived and couldn’t be located. She almost expected that. He had to know any decent detective, especially one as tenacious as Behan, would eventually discover his culpability in accessing the D.A.’s file.

Perry’s car was parked at his apartment, but he wasn’t there. Not a good sign, Josie thought, and dispatched a sergeant to West bureau to retrieve Perry’s personnel package from a reluctant clerk typist. It was only when Josie called and told the clerk she’d be booked and charged with interfering, that she agreed to let the sergeant have it.

The contents of Perry’s personnel package were strewn over Josie’s conference table, but she and Behan were unable to find any local addresses or contacts. His only relative was a brother in Florida.

“He only worked a couple of divisions besides the bureau,” Josie said, when they couldn’t think of any other way to find Perry. “But his most recent field time was in Hollywood . . . pull the time books and see who his partners were. Maybe they can tell us something.”

“Skip Wilshire,” Behan said. “He was only there as a probationer. Most of his career was here and the majority of that was in vice.”

Behan made several trips to the basement and brought back boxes full of time books. Each watch commander kept one with car assignments and days off. Perry had been with the department more than twenty years, including over a year in patrol at Wilshire division after the academy. He had several years in Hollywood patrol and vice, a few months back in Wilshire patrol when he got promoted to sergeant, and then he returned to Hollywood as a vice sergeant. He worked other divisions but never left Hollywood for long. The last few years he’d been in West bureau as Bright’s adjutant. Fortunately, Perry seemed to favor the graveyard shift so that simplified the search of his patrol time. The old vice logs were still in her squad room so Marge volunteered to go through those.

It was a hunch, but while Josie waited for Behan and Marge to finish their tedious search, she decided to drive to Wilshire and look at the time book for Perry’s probationary year. The record clerks at that division weren’t as well-organized as Hollywood’s so it took nearly an hour to find the right one. Once she had it, Josie only needed a few minutes to find what she was looking for. In November 1989, Wilshire had been given two probationary officers on a transfer from the police academy. They were assigned to different watches. Perry went to the busy night watch and his classmate Bruno Faldi was on the graveyard shift.

During their time at Wilshire, Perry and Faldi took the same days off, and before they wheeled out of that division as fullfledged officers, they worked in the same basic car with a senior training officer. Shortly before the end of their probationary period on several occasions, the two young officers were allowed to work together without a training officer.

When Josie called Behan to tell him what she’d found, he informed her that he and Marge had uncovered a few interesting facts, too. After probation, Perry had transferred into Hollywood, and Faldi managed to follow him a short time later. They worked the same basic car on the graveyard shift and their watch commander was none other than Lieutenant Howard Owens. He sponsored both young men to be assigned to the prostitution enforcement detail in vice and later on assisted them in returning to Hollywood vice as sergeants.

Behan saved the most interesting information until Josie got back to Hollywood.

“Tony Ibarra was their sergeant when they first went to Hollywood vice, and when they came back as sergeants, Ibarra was in charge of the unit,” Marge said. She looked miserable and avoided eye contact with Behan. Apparently, the split with the big redhead hadn’t been as beneficial for her as it had been for him.

“Owens neglected to reveal that bit of trivia when he was ranting on about Faldi. What patrol car did Perry and Faldi work on mornings?” Josie asked.

“A49.”

“The one bordering Rampart?” Josie asked.

“Yeah, Sunset, Western, Hollywood Boulevard over to the freeway,” Marge responded. “But even more fucking coincidental is that the Plaza, Milano’s club before Avanti’s, was smack dab in the middle of A49’s area.”

“I never heard of the Plaza,” Josie said, certain she knew every club and restaurant in her division.

“That’s ’cuz we shut it down just before you got here,” Marge said. “For prostitution, drug dealing . . . all those fabulous things that keep me employed.”

“So, Faldi’s patrolling all night with Perry in his uncle’s backyard to do what . . . keep the police away, protect Milano’s business interests?”

“Probably with Lieutenant Owens’ blessing,” Behan mumbled. “We’ll pull Owens’ bank info for any large purchases or deposits during that time and see what we can come up with, same for Ibarra. You know Owens wouldn’t do it unless he was well-paid.”

“When I took over the OIC spot in vice, I made Perry and Faldi find new jobs so I could bring in my own sergeants,” Marge said. “A few weeks later, Faldi quits the department and Perry gets a job in the bureau,” Marge said.

Nobody spoke for several minutes. Josie figured they were all thinking the same thing. Organized crime had weaseled its way into Hollywood. Milano most likely paid off Owens and Ibarra, and had Faldi and Perry on the payroll doing his bidding. His businesses could run amok all night with no police interference. Milano probably tempted guys like Goldman and Bright with huge donations and pretty underage girls, then threatened to expose them if they interfered in his enterprises.