DAWN CAME EARLY after a fitful sleep. I ran in the darkness, following the silent streets from my home to Mulholland, then along the Mulholland snake to the Hollywood Bowl, and back. Dawn came early, but I was home before the sun touched the sky. Sweating out beer was a bitch.
Breakfast was leftover veal with a side of eggplant. I showered, dressed, and put on a pot of coffee. The coffee was dripping when someone knocked at the door. Four quick, hard raps.
A man and a woman were making the noise. The woman stood front and center, with the man to the side and behind. They were the couple in the brown sedan who cruised past the Slausons’ house.
When they knocked again, I opened the door.
“It’s early. I hope you brought donuts.”
The woman ignored my crack, and held up a badge.
“I’m Cassett. He’s Rivera. Remember us?”
“Should I?”
Rivera grunted.
“It’s too early for jokes. You remember.”
Cassett put away her badge.
“He remembers. That’s why he’s letting us in.”
They stepped in past me, and moved apart like street cops clearing a disturbance call. The A-frame’s ceiling peaked like a glass cathedral above us, and bathed us in morning light. Rivera did a slow three-sixty, eyeing the room like I lived in a dump.
I said, “Do you people know what time it is?”
“Sure. Are we alone?”
“My cat’s in the kitchen. Want to meet him?”
Cassett went to the sliders, and studied the canyon.
“Nice view.”
Rivera noticed the stairs to the loft.
“What’s up the stairs?”
“Whatever’s up there, it isn’t for sale. I was about to feed my cat, Cassett. His food’s getting cold.”
Rivera said, “Tough.”
He circled toward the kitchen, trying to see.
Cassett said, “Sorry about the hour, Mr. Cole. We’ll try not to keep you.”
I motioned to the couch.
“Whatever. You guys want some coffee?”
“Like I said, we’ll try not to keep you. Why were you at the Slausons?”
Her eyes were as flat as paper plates, but her manner was conversational.
“I wanted to see them about the burglary. Is there a problem?”
Rivera said, “How’s the burglary your business?”
“I’m looking into it.”
Cassett turned from the view.
“Why would you be looking into it?”
The cat padded out of the kitchen. He stopped when he saw them, folded his ears, and growled.
I said, “Watch yourself, Rivera. He bites.”
Rivera squinted at the cat.
“How come his head’s crooked?”
“Someone shot him.”
The cat turned sideways, and arched his back. Rivera sidled away.
Cassett said, “Let’s get back to the Slausons and why you were there.”
“I heard the Slausons got ripped, and decided to nose around. Insurance companies pay recovery fees. That’s it.”
Rivera scowled.
“Which SIU you with?”
Insurance companies had Special Investigations Units to verify claims and sniff out insurance fraud. Staff investigators handled most SIU cases, but during periods of high work load or with specialized cases, outside contract investigators were hired. I had worked for most of the big companies.
I said, “None. I’m working for me. Freelance.”
“You’re not on with a company?”
“Freelance.”
Rivera glanced at Cassett, and cocked his head.
“He’s kidding, right? We don’t have enough, and now we’ve got some freelance cheesing around for a payoff?”
“Take it easy, Mike.”
Rivera’s face was puffy, like he had spent the night drinking.
“Okay, Mr. Freelance, who told you about the Slausons?”
“A friend in the business. What’s the big deal?”
The cat edged closer, and growled again.
“What’s wrong with you people? You’ve got eighteen high-end burglaries. It’s all the insurance people are talking about.”
Rivera came closer again, and stopped just short of my nose.
“Maybe you were up there trying to sell their stuff back. Thieves do that, you know? They rip a house, and hire a stooge to sell the stuff back to the victims.”
“Step away from me, Rivera.”
The cat’s growl spiraled louder, and his fur bristled.
Cassett snapped at her partner.
“Take it easy, Mike. Stop.”
Rivera stepped back, but didn’t go easy. He was sucking air like a whale, and close to a stroke.
“We have too many assholes riding our backs now, Cole. We sure as hell don’t need a cheeser like you making it worse. Keep away from the Slausons.”
“Bite me, Rivera. Get out of my house before I call the cops.”
Cassett said, “Mike!”
She tipped her head toward the door.
“I’ll be out in a second.”
Rivera stalked out. I expected the door to slam, but it closed soft as a whisper.
Cassett looked at my cat.
“Is your cat always like this?”
“I could ask the same about Rivera.”
She smiled, and looked tired.
“We’ve had a rough few weeks.”
The cat sniffed once, and returned to the kitchen. His claws snicked the floor when he walked. Snick-snick-snick.
I said, “Start again, Sergeant. Why are you here?”
She went to the glass door and studied the canyon. The mist below was lifting.
“We get the high-profile stuff, all the glitzy headline cases, but, man, rich people are a pain in the ass.”
She turned from the view.
“Half of these vics golf with the mayor. The others have a councilman on speed dial. Two of our vics donate hundreds of thousands of dollars to the Department, and one even more. You know what all these connections and donations mean?”
“Pressure.”
She made a little nod.
“People looking over our shoulders. Insurance reps. Investigators the rich people hire. My boss even has to brief these clowns. You believe this shit? My boss does not like to give briefings.”
She took a breath, and shrugged.
“So if Mike was testy, it’s because we’re tired of being nice.”
“Why did you come here?”
“I asked around. People said you’re pretty good, so I thought, never know, maybe this guy has something useful.”
I felt like a dog.
“Sure.”
“Do you?”
“I didn’t know about the Slausons until yesterday.”
She gave me her card, and went to the door.
“If you hear anything, call me.”
“Sure.”
Rivera was behind the wheel of their D-ride. He stared straight ahead, and wouldn’t look at me.
Cassett stepped out, but turned back.
“Your friend. What’s his name?”
“Which friend?”
“Your insurance friend. The one who told you about the Slausons. Maybe I know him.”
Her eyes were flat like plates again.
“Les Peyton. Scadlock Mutual.”
She gave a polite smile.
“Have a good day, Mr. Cole.”
Cassett got into the brown sedan, and I closed the door.
I didn’t like withholding information. I felt small and shifty, and told myself Cassett’s case would close as soon as Tyson surrendered. The rich people would be off her back, Dr. Slauson’s watch would be returned, and everyone would move on with their lives. I told myself the case was almost over, but I was wrong.
I was pouring a cup of coffee when Devon called.
“He’s missing. Tyson ran away, and didn’t come home. I need you!”
I dumped the coffee, and drove to the Valley.