Hangman (29 page)

“Anyway. You can look at my stuff. All the bank and phone records. I don’t care. I kept my promise to him and my conscience is clear. Maybe now I can fall asleep.”

“As long as we’re on this topic…I spoke to a security guard from the hotel today. He had a lot to say about your mother and father.”

“You mean about the fight?”

“So you know about it.”

“Chris told me. He said it was a bad one. He said you’d find out about it. He swore to me that Mom was alive when he left.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes, I do. Chris also told me that he offered the guy some money and the guy took it. So how reliable could he be if he was bribable?”

“The guard felt guilty about it. He gave it back to me. I think his account is pretty reliable.” Decker chose his words carefully. “But he did tell me a few things about your mom that makes me wonder if Chris is telling the truth or not. The security guard told me that your mother looked more mad than scared when he interrupted them.”

“Mad or upset?”

“Mad as in angry, which is the word he used. Your mom was angry at the guard for barging in on their argument. And it does sound like a bad fight. He heard your dad call your mom a lying bitch and he heard your mom call your dad crazy and paranoid. The point I’m making is that your mom didn’t look scared to the guard.”

“That’s odd…” Gabe licked his lips. “Chris was under the impression that he had scared the shit out of her.”

“He told you that?”

Gabe nodded.

“Interesting,” Decker said. “Because…I’m just wondering if…maybe after all these years…your mom has finally learned how to snow people. In my opinion, Chris would be far more likely to leave her alone if she appeared scared rather than angry.”

Gabe was quiet.

“I would really like to talk to your father. I’m on the fence about his guilt and innocence and it would help me to hear his point of view. If you could call him up and ask him to come in just to talk…maybe take a polygraph, which he could probably pass even if he did murder your mom.” Decker thought a moment. “If Chris didn’t do anything to her, I want to concentrate on other leads. And if she vanished of her own accord…”
Like with a rich doctor to India.
“Well, it would be nice not to waste departmental resources on finding people who don’t want to be found.”

“Lieutenant, I can’t call Chris and ask him favors. He’ll act like I’m betraying him or something.” Gabe rubbed his eyes. “Just wait for him to call me.”

“What makes you think he’ll call?”

“Because I know my dad. He’s going to want to know what you know and the best way to find that out is through me. Then I can tell him, ‘Decker wants you to come in and take a polygraph.’ He’ll probably say ‘fuck that’ or something equally pithy, but at least I can plead your case without looking like a traitor.”

A fair compromise. “Okay. I’ll wait until he calls you. When he does call you, let him do most of the talking.”

“He’s onto that. Chris uses silences as efficiently as his Mauser.
But I can handle him.” Gabe rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to have to give him something—my dad.”

“Give him Atik Jains. He probably knows about it anyway. Don’t say anything about your mom knowing an Indian doctor.”

“Did you get a chance to check out the names I gave you?”

“I did and I might have some information.” He paused. “How much do you want to know, Gabe? Because if you know stuff, then you might have to lie to your dad.”

“You’re right. I’m better off not knowing.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Besides, if she left on purpose, then why should I care?” Anger in his eyes. “Let her start a new life without me. It’s her prerogative.”

“I’m sure that if she did that, she felt that you were best off without her.”

“Yeah, isn’t that what all mothers say when they give up their babies for adoption.”

“You’re not a baby. You’re an independent guy. She knew you could handle it.”

“And here I am…handling it.”

“She stuck it out for almost fifteen years. After the beating, she probably didn’t feel safe anymore.”

“I know.” A sigh. “You’re right. She probably did feel like this was her last shot at freedom. She had all the right reasons for doing what she did, but that doesn’t help to ease the pain.”

T
HE JEWELRY TAKEN
from Tinsley’s apartment was neatly laid out atop a clean plastic sheet on Decker’s desk. He explained to Kathy Blanc where they were in the investigation and the purpose of the identification. She became livid when he got to the part about letting Tinsley go. “You let this monster walk out of here a
free man
?”

“He’s not in jail but he’s under watch,” Decker said. “We can pick him up at any time once we get evidence on him.”

“A woman from the bar identifying him as the man my daughter spoke with isn’t enough? His business card in my daughter’s coat pocket isn’t enough? Finding my daughter dead at his place of work isn’t enough? What do you jokers need to arrest someone?”

The questions were rhetorical, but Decker answered them as if they were sincere. “If
we
would have found Tinsley’s business card in her purse, I might have kept him under lock and key. The truth is that he told us about the card. Otherwise we wouldn’t have known about it.”

Kathy was coiffed and bejeweled, dressed in gray slacks and a red
cotton tee. Her complexion matched the hue of her shirt. “He threw you a bone and you lapped it up.”

“He’s on our radar. I have cops on him. Unfortunately, I need hard evidence. I’ve talked to the D.A. this morning. She won’t take it to a grand jury unless I have more.”

“Then she’s an idiot.”

“Mrs. Blanc, what I have on Tinsley is easily explained away by his story. Plus, Garth Hammerling and Mandy Kowalski are still missing. Why Garth hasn’t shown his face is anyone’s guess, but it sure makes him look bad.”

“You told me that Garth was five hundred miles away when it happened.”

“No, I said that Garth was five hundred miles away when Adrianna went to work at St. Tim’s Sunday night. We know he came back to L.A. What we don’t know is if he saw Adrianna or not.”

“So why can’t you find him? Isn’t that your job?”

“Yes, it’s our job. And we’re doing everything we can to find him and Mandy Kowalski. If he’s with Mandy, that might be worrisome.”

Kathy folded her arms across her chest. “I never trusted that girl.”

“Interesting you should say that. She lied to the police at least once. Can I ask you why you never trusted her?”

“I don’t know.” She had lowered her voice. “She appeared nice, but she was very serious.” Her eyes watered. “If she would have been Bea’s friend, I might have felt differently. But Adrianna didn’t have friends like her. She liked her friends like herself—freewheeling. Also I felt that she was…disapproving of my daughter.”

“If so, why do you think they became friends?”

“This is going to sound terrible…and it’s based on nothing…”

“Go ahead,” Decker said. “I like conjecture.”

“I sensed that Mandy liked Adrianna because she could feel superior to her, like mentoring her through nursing school. And she did help her. But once Adrianna stopped being…dependent on Mandy, I think Mandy became bitter.”

“Was it you who told me that Mandy introduced Garth to Adrianna?”

“I think so.” Kathy paused. “Maybe that’s why Mandy was bitter. Maybe Mandy liked Garth. In any case, Mandy was certainly not like Adrianna’s other friends.”

“Not like Crystal Larabee, for instance?”

“Poor Crystal.” Tears raced down Kathy’s cheeks. “Her mother is coming in this afternoon. I’ve invited Pandy to stay with us until both of the girls…”—sobs now—“are laid to rest.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

Kathy dried her eyes with a tissue. “Are you coming to the memorial service?”

“When is it?”

“Tomorrow at eleven.”

The date was not only on Shabbat, but was the first weekend in years when his entire family would be together. He said, “Of course.”

“That would be nice.” Another swipe at her eyes. It didn’t little to stanch the flow. Her eyes focused on the gold pieces. “What exactly should I do?”

“We found these in Chuck Tinsley’s apartment. He claims the pieces belonged to his late mother. I’d like you to tell me if any of the items might have belonged to Adrianna. If you need to touch anything, I’ll give you some latex gloves.”

She studied the pieces with her hands in her lap. “These are all yellow gold. Adrianna never wore yellow gold. She thought yellow gold was very old ladyish.”

Decker noticed the yellow gold chain around Kathy Blanc’s neck. “So…as far as you know, none of these items is Adrianna’s.”

“As far as I know, that is correct. I don’t know all of her jewelry, but these pieces aren’t her style. Maybe my style, but not hers.”

“That helps a lot. Thanks so much for coming down.” He studied the jewelry for a few moments more than he should have. Something was catching in his brain.

Kathy said, “Would it have helped your case against Tinsley if I would have identified one of the pieces as Adrianna’s?”

“Of course. It would have helped the case immensely.”

“And you would have arrested him?”

“Probably.”

“I should have lied. I should have picked out an item at random and told you it belonged to Adrianna.” Her expression was furious. “Stupid of me. Tinsley should be behind bars.”

“Only if he did it.” Decker stopped bagging the jewelry and looked at her. “Kathy, you have to believe me on this one. You don’t want to be responsible for putting the wrong man in jail.”

“I don’t know, Lieutenant.” She smacked her lips. “The way I feel right now, I’d rather have the wrong man than no man at all.”

BACK IN MISSION
Control, officially known as Central Security for St. Tim’s, Peter the tech was as mute as ever. But his light eyes twinkled as he nodded to Marge and Oliver, indicating that they were now buddies. Ivan Povich seated the detectives in front of a blank monitor and poured coffee from a glass carafe into four Styrofoam cups.

“Fresh,” Povich said. “Peter just made it.”

Marge took a sip. “It’s good. Is there anything that Peter doesn’t do well?”

The silent tech saluted her.

“It’s Kona,” Povich said. “Less caffeine, less acid. Peter, can you bring up the original tape from the emergency vehicle lot…the one before the enhancement.”

Peter began sorting through the cassettes and slipped one into the machine slot.

“How’d that go?” Marge asked. “Any of the features recognizable?”

“You will see everything for yourself.” Within moments, black-and-white images blossomed onto the monitor. “This is the original.” Povich zeroed in on the lone female figure lurking on the loading dock. With each twist of the dial, she grew in size. “Everything blurs as the image gets bigger, no? Now watch. Peter, put in the enhanced tape.”

When the new images came onto the screen, Marge was delighted. She could see the differences: sharper angles, clearer delineations. “Wow. That makes a difference.”

Povich advanced the enhanced tape until he came to the frame of interest. Again, everyone concentrated on the figure in the corner of the loading dock. He turned the dial until the gray, grainy face came into maximum size and focus.

Marge stared at the screen. “Looks like Mandy Kowalski to me.” She turned to Oliver. “What do you think?”

“Wouldn’t bet my life on it.” Oliver sat back in his chair. “But I’d bet money on it.”

Marge said, “What’s the time on the tape?”

“Eleven fourteen
A.M
.,” Povich said.

Oliver said, “And Tinsley found the body at one forty-five?”

Marge nodded. “Plenty of time to string up the body at the construction site. St. Tim’s is a hop, skip, and jump away. Ivan, can you back up the tape?”

“How far back?”

“A couple of minutes?” Marge explained, “We’re interested in Mandy because we’re thinking she might have had something to do with Adrianna’s murder and she used the dock to load the body.”

Povich said, “So like you’re looking for a body bag?”

“Body bag, trash bag, a big box…something.” Marge shrugged. “If Mandy or Garth was carting away a body on the sly, he or she would probably be savvy enough to avoid the security cameras. I suppose I’m looking for something less obvious…like a car or a person that doesn’t fit the scene.”

Povich said, “Maybe it would be better to view this in the station house.”

“When can you bring the tape in?”

“You can keep this one. It is a copy. Peter made it for you.”

Marge turned to the mute. “You made a copy for us?”

“He did,” Povich said. “But don’t tell the hospital.” He popped the cassette out. “Here you go. Good luck.”

“Thank you very much, gentlemen.” Marge placed the cassette into her oversize purse. “Thank for the help and the cooperation.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Oliver said.

The two detectives got up and shook hands all around. As they
left, Marge gave Peter a firm pat on the back—her silent way of saying “job well done.”

“RIGHT…HERE!”
Marge pointed to the rear of a car with its trunk open. “Keep an eye on this because it’s relegated to the corner of the monitor.”

“Now look what happens,” Oliver said.

Decker watched the cassette frame by frame as a man in a gray uniform slid in and out of view. At one point, he was holding a black industrial garbage bag, which he hoisted—with effort—into the open trunk. Then he closed the lid and walked out of view. A few moments later, the car left.

Marge turned on the lights and removed the cassette. Today she had dressed in a navy sweater and tan slacks. “While this guy was schlepping the bag and hauling it to the car trunk, we have Mandy popping into view at eleven fourteen. Then the car leaving around two minutes later. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to get a license plate. We have a good shot of the trunk. I’ll visit some car dealers and see if someone can identify the make and model.”

Oliver said, “The guy in the uniform appears to be about the same height and weight as Garth, but that’s as close as we can come to identifying him.”

“Get some pictures of Mandy and Garth and go back to the people who were working the emergency dock on Monday. Ask them if they remember seeing either or both of them.” Decker rubbed his temples. “Anything else?”

“Not right now,” Marge said. “You okay, Pete?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…” He raked his hand through his hair. “Maybe it’s just turning sixty. Anyway, I sent Wanda Bontemps down to Ranger’s Deli to see if I can find anyone who could corroborate Chuck Tinsley’s story. She found a waitress who knows him. She says he eats there all the time. She thinks he was there on Monday around twelve-thirty, but she can’t be sure.”

Marge said, “Maybe Tinsley’s telling the truth. That someone found his business card in Adrianna’s pocket and set him up.”

“Could be.”

Oliver said, “You don’t like Tinsley, do you?”

“He calls in the body, and he met her for the first time the night before. He doesn’t tell us about it. No, I don’t like him.” Decker smoothed his mustache. “Something’s off with that guy. If he were locked up, I’d feel better. But he’s not in custody and I’m missing something.”

“It’ll come to you.”

“Yeah, it will. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come too late.”