Hangman (25 page)

“Would you excuse me for a moment?”

“Can I go now?”

“Greg, I think it would be best if you stayed for a little bit longer. Until I talk to the girl you were with last night. She is your alibi.”

“Then can I go?”

“One thing at a time. You want some more coffee or a soda or something to eat?”

“I want to go home and go to sleep.”

You and the rest of us, Oliver thought. “I’ll only be a minute. Just hang on, okay?”

Reyburn’s answer was a doleful shake of the head. Oliver left the interview room and went to look for Marge. When he didn’t find her, he headed for the Loo’s office. Decker was on the phone but motioned Oliver in. A minute later, he hung up. “That was Sela Graydon. She and Kathy Blanc are coming to the office tomorrow. That should be a real yuck fest.”

“Why are they coming in?”

“For an update on the recent events, to cry on my shoulder, to yell at me, to curse the world: pick any one or all of the above.” He blew out air. “What’s up?”

“Is Aaron Otis still here?”

“No, we kicked him loose about twenty minutes ago.”

“Damn.”

“What’s going on? Should we pick him back up?”

“I’d like to talk to him.” Oliver told him Reyburn’s story about Garth and his cougars. “Sounds fanciful to me, but it did give me the idea that maybe Garth is holed up in Vegas. Maybe he and Mandy are making new lives for themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Dominator/Dominatrix whatever.”

“Contact Las Vegas Metro PD.”

“Or Marge and I can take a little journey to the east.”

“Even if you do, you still need to contact the local law.”

“What do you think of the story?” Oliver asked.

Decker shrugged. “I’ve learned over the years to reserve judgment.”

Wanda Bontemps knocked on the doorframe. “I have Eddie Booker on line two.”

“Who?” Decker said.

“That’s all he said. He’s Eddie Booker and he’s returning your call.”

“My call?” He picked up the phone. “This is Lieutenant Decker.”

“Hi, Lieutenant. Eddie Booker. My mother-in-law said you called a couple of days ago and wanted to talk to me.”

Decker’s mind was racing. Luckily, Booker helped him out.

“I woulda called sooner but there wasn’t any communication on the ship.”

Ship…cruise ship…the security guard at the hotel where Terry was staying. “Yes, Mr. Booker, thank you very much for calling back. Hold on, one minute.” He turned to Oliver. “Get hold of Aaron Otis and see if he verifies the conversation. Then call up Las Vegas Metro and I’ll see about sending you and Marge over there. I’ve got to take this call.”

Oliver nodded and left.

Decker told Booker why he had called. “For the sake of completeness, we are interviewing everyone who was working at the hotel the night that Ms. McLaughlin disappeared. We understand you were on duty that night and left…actually quit the next day.”

The line was silent.

“We understand that the hotel offered incentives to anyone that would leave early.”

“They did.”

“And that’s why you decided to leave your job?”

Again, there was silence. Decker said, “We’d like to talk to you…find out if you saw Ms. McLaughlin or perhaps heard anything unusual.”

There was a third pause.

Decker said, “Maybe it would be better if you came down to the station house. Since you live in the Valley, I think I’m closer to you than West L.A. Could you make it here in an hour?”

Booker’s voice was shaky when he decided to talk. “I didn’t know that Ms. McLaughlin went missing on Monday.”

“Since Sunday night, actually.”

“No one told me.”

“So now you know. We’re asking for everyone’s help.”

“I knew I shoulda
said
something.”

“About what?”

The man didn’t answer. Decker was sitting on anxiety and frustration. “How about if I came by your house and we could talk there?”

“No, I’ll come in to you.”

“Great. When?”

“Where are you? Devonshire?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I could be there in a half hour.”

“I’ll be here. Thanks for your help.”

“She seemed okay,” Booker said. “I swear she was okay when I left her.”

Soothingly, Decker said, “I’m sure she was okay. She still might be okay. We’re just putting pieces together. That’s why we’re asking for your help—”

“What about the boy?” Booker asked. “She has a son.”

Decker laughed to himself. “The one thing I can tell you with certainty is that the boy is okay.”

E
DDIE BOOKER CARRIED
a burden. The former security guard should have looked rested from cruising the open seas. Instead his face oozed stress. He was a tall, rawboned man in his fifties with tired dark eyes. He had a wide mouth and tightly knit gray hair. He came in dressed in a white button-down shirt and brown slacks. He was sweating and the interview hadn’t even begun. Decker had originally called him up for the sake of completeness. Now he wondered if he wasn’t looking at a suspect.

“Would you like some water?”

“No, I just want to get this over with.” Booker took a nearby box of tissues and used one to mop his brow.

“Tell me about it,” Decker said.

“I knew it was wrong.” A sigh. “I worked in this business for thirty-six years and nothin’ like this has ever happened before. I don’t know what in hell I was thinking.”

Decker nodded.

“My wife thinks I should get a lawyer.”

“Why?” Decker asked.

“That’s what I was telling her. I’ll just return the money and
that’ll be that. But now you tell me that Ms. McLaughlin’s missing, it might look like trouble.” His eyes were wet. “I swear this was the first and only time I ever did something like this. And I only took the money because she told me to.”

“Ms. McLaughlin told you to take the money?”

“Yes, sir.”

Decker pulled out his notebook. “Mr. Booker, let’s back it up. Start with the time. When did all this happen?”

“It was about…three, three-thirty in the afternoon.”

“Sunday afternoon?”

“Yeah, Sunday afternoon. I was doing my rounds. Just checking the grounds, and I heard the arguing coming from Ms. McLaughlin’s hotel room.”

“Okay.” Decker kept his face flat. “When you say ‘arguing,’ could you define it?”

“Yelling.”

“Who was yelling?”

“Both of ’em.”

“Ms. McLaughlin and…”

“I don’t know the man’s name. He never did say it. Just offered me the money, and like a damn fool I took it. Only reason I took it is because she said for me to take it.”

“Ms. McLaughlin did.”

“Yes, sir. Boy, she was angry. Angry at him…but she looked angry at me for bothering them.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of hundred-dollar bills. “I didn’t even spend it. I knew it was wrong.” He thrust the bundle in Decker’s face. “Just take it from me. That stuff is poison!”

“I can’t do that, sir.”

“Well, I sure as hell don’t want it.” He threw the money on the table.

The bills started to uncurl. Decker didn’t make a move to take them, but he knew later on that he’d bag the money as evidence. Maybe it was payoff from Donatti to do something bad. “Let’s backtrack a little, Mr. Booker. You were doing your rounds. It was about three, three-thirty on Sunday afternoon.”

“Yes.”

“You heard some arguing coming from Ms. McLaughlin’s room.”

“Yes.”

“Then what happened?”

“I knocked on the door. I called out her name, asking her if everything was okay.”

“What happened after you knocked and called out to her?”

“Well, for one thing, the arguing stopped. The yelling. After I knocked, no one said a peep.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“I knocked again, calling out her name. I started to put my passkey into the door, but then she opened it up before I had a chance.”

“How’d she look?”

The man’s skin darkened. “She was a beautiful woman.”

“I mean what was her emotional state?”

“Angry.”

“Angry and afraid?”

“No, sir, just angry. If she woulda looked afraid, I wouldn’t have gone away. She just looked pissed, pardon my French.”

“So what happened after she answered the door?”

“She told me…let me see if I can get this exactly right…” He took another dab at his brow with the Kleenex. “She said thank you for my concern. That she was sorry they were making a racket, but everything’s fine.”

“Did she look like she was roughed up at all?”

“Roughed up?” The guard looked horrified. “Like she was beaten?”

“Well, was her hair messed up, did she have any marks on her face—”

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. If I would have suspected anything, I would have called my supervisor or even the police.”

“What was she wearing?” Decker asked.

“Wearing?” Booker looked pained. “I gotta think a minute. She had something red on…like a loose red top. She was wearing dark pants. Her hair was down. She kept swishing it off of her shoulders. She had on big diamond studs in her ears.”

“Was she wearing makeup? Like lipstick or mascara?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Did she look like she’d been crying?”

“Her eyes weren’t red or anything like that. Nothing dark running down her face. She just looked mad. Which was different from other times I saw her. Normally, she was very nice and social. Not this time.”

“Did you happen to see who she was arguing with?”

“Yeah, of course. He was the one who gave me the money.”

“What did he look like?”

“Very tall. Big, blond guy. Spooky eyes. I was worried for her.”

“And she didn’t look scared?”

“No. Not scared, not crying, just angry. When he offered me the money for my ‘troubles’”—Booker made air quotes—“I almost called the police. But then she told me to take it. She said, ‘Take the money, Eddie. And keep this little incident to yourself. It would be embarrassing for me if you told someone.’” He furrowed his brow. “She said something about that the man was the boy’s father and they were having a difference on how to raise him right. That’s why I asked you about the son. Is he really okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine. Do you think that’s what they were arguing about?”

Again, Booker looked pained. “I couldn’t say yes and I couldn’t say no. If you’re asking for my opinion, I think the arguing was more personal than raising a boy.”

“How is that?”

Booker blew out air. “I heard him call her a lying little bitch. She called him paranoid and crazy. That’s when I knocked on the door and everything got quiet. Those kinds of words…to me, that doesn’t sound to me like they were arguing about their son. I knew I shoulda said something, but…” He shook his head in shame.

“What?”

“This is gonna sound bad.”

“Tell me anyway.”

He covered his face. “He gave me a thousand dollars. I could really use that money. But there was no question in my mind that I
wasn’t gonna keep it. Just as soon as I got back from the cruise…I was gonna give it back.”

“So why’d you take it?”

“You’re not gonna believe me.”

“Try me out.”

“I took the money because Ms. McLaughlin…well, how do I say this? Like I said, she was a beautiful woman with this beautiful, soft voice and a lovely smile. She smiled at me whenever I passed her. Always addressed me by my name and took the time to say a couple of words to me. She always treated me like a person instead of a piece of furniture.”

“I heard she was very friendly.”

“Friendly but never flirtatious. Just a good soul. And like I said, she was so pretty.” He looked down. “I had kind of a crush on her. I took the money because I didn’t want her to be mad at me.”

“YOU LET HIM
go?” Marge asked.

“What am I going to hold him on?”

“Maybe he sneaked back in after Donatti left, and killed her.”

“He gave me a complete schedule of his movements. The only way he could have murdered her and disposed of the body would have been if he did it on the grounds. And too many people saw him in between the time he took the money and the time that Gabe got back home and discovered his mother was gone.”

“Maybe he murdered her, stuffed her in a closet, and came back to dispose of the body.”

“He left for home after six-thirty and arrived forty minutes later. He claims he was with his wife the whole time, packing for his vacation. I checked his face, his hands, his arms, and his legs. He even showed me his back and stomach. There were no scratches anywhere. He agreed to take a polygraph. You saw the room. Was there anything to indicate that a struggle took place inside?”

“Loo, he admitted having a crush on her. Maybe she rejected his advances.”

“If he got physical, she didn’t fight back, and I find that hard to
believe. I had nothing to keep him on. He doesn’t have a record, he’s got a sterling history of employment, he pays his taxes, he sends his kids to Catholic school. You get a gut feeling about a person. I believed him, so I let him go.”

“I don’t like the part where he said he had a crush on her.”

“She’s a charming woman. He probably wasn’t the only one.”

Marge regarded his face. “Including you?”

“I remember her as a little kid, so to me she’s always a little kid. Objectively, she’s alluring. And I think she played it to the hilt. Not with me, though. With me, she used the helpless-female dodge. ‘Please, Lieutenant, you’re the only one I know that can control him. I feel safe when you’re around.’ And moron that I am, I bought it.”

“You sound angry.”

“I’m an idiot. But at least I was smart enough to ask my wife’s opinion about helping her out before I agreed to do it.”

“And Rina said yes?”

“Rina said she’d back me either way. But we both knew that I’d agree to do it because of Donatti’s potential for violence. It could be something terrible happened to Terry, but I’m beginning to think that she planned this all along and I’ve been had. And now I got a teenage boy living at my house and my wife is renting him a piano.”

Marge laughed. “She’s renting Gabe a piano?”

Decker looked sour. “She heard him play this morning. Apparently, he’s some kind of piano genius. Now she’s got him a teacher and I don’t know what else. All I know is it’s going to cost me money.” He hit his forehead. “I’m ready to retire. What the hell did I get myself into, Marge?”

“You’re not going to retire. You’d die.”

“Maybe not
retire
retire, but I was certainly ready to kick back. How did I get bamboozled into letting this kid into my life?”

“You’re asking me? I adopted Vega and haven’t slept a night since.” She paused. “It’s better now. But I still worry until I get that phone call, telling me ‘good night, Mother Marge.’” She threw up her hands. “Some people take in stray cats. We take in two-legged creatures. It’s not so smart, but at least we don’t deal with litter boxes.”

OLIVER HUNG UP
the phone. “That was Las Vegas.” He looked at his notes. “Detective Silver. He said he’d stop by the hotels but not to expect anything. The hotels keep their registries pretty damn private unless there’s a warrant or an overriding reason to expose their patrons.”

Marge said, “How about two dead girls?”

“That’s why I got the kind of cooperation that I did. But until we have more evidence, we’ll be hitting a brick wall.”

Marge said, “We could go there and hunt around the hotels ourselves, but I don’t think we’ll get much. Could be Garth is using an alias. Vegas is a place where people come to reinvent themselves. And each hotel is enormous, with lots of wings and hundreds of rooms.”

“Needle in a haystack.”

Marge shrugged. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing.”

“Neither am I. I’ve never seen
O
.”

“It’s good.” Oliver shrugged. “I’ll see it again.”

“I’ll check out who has the cheapest seats possible.” Marge readjusted her purse over her shoulder. “I’m off to see Yvette Jackson with a six-pack ID lineup. Wanna come with me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Oliver stood up and put on his jacket. “We should run our Las Vegas junket by the Loo. I’m sure we could get some recompense for it.”

“We could make a good case for it,” Marge said. “Except the
O
tickets.”

“Then we just have to figure out a good way of presenting it to accounting. How about…how about a refresher course in emergency medicine and CPR?”

Marge laughed. “And how do figure that?”

“All those women underwater…what if one of them suddenly gets a cramp?”

“Uh-huh, and how do you propose to help?”

“I’m very good at deep massages.”