DRESSED IN WHITE pants, a yellow polo shirt, and a brimmed cap, Phil Shriner had just finished with his power walk around the grounds of his retirement home when he found Oliver waiting for him in front of bungalow 58. Inside, the space was still claustrophobic with furniture, although some of the hardwood floor was peeking through. Shriner took a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator and poured two glasses’ worth. He opened the patio door, went outside, and leaned over the railing. Oliver stood next to him and Shriner handed him a glass. The retired detective’s backyard overlooked the number 6 fairway. He checked his watch. “I’m due to tee off in a half hour.”
Oliver sipped the lemonade. “But I told you this might take some time.”
“I don’t have anything to add beyond our first encounter. I don’t know why you bothered coming out at all.”
“Then I’ll make it quick,” Oliver said. “I think you’re lying to me about Melinda Little.”
Shriner’s head snapped back. “Well, that was blunt. So I’ll be blunt back. Frankly, I don’t care what you think.”
“C’mon, Phil. You know how it works. You don’t want to make it hard on yourself. Just be straight and I’ll leave you alone.”
He stared at Oliver. “What’s your problem? You’re getting nowhere, so you’re bugging people to see what drops?”
“Okay. Let me get this out. I think that Melinda Little’s gambling problem predated her husband’s death. She was flushing money down the toilet way before the murder. We suspect that you knew that, too.”
“Maybe I suspected it, but I didn’t know it. And why would that matter?”
“Because, Phil, if she was heavily in debt before the murder, she might have viewed Bennett Little’s insurance policy as a ticket out.”
“I wouldn’t know. I told you I met her after her husband died.”
“We have witnesses that put you two together before Little was murdered,” Oliver fibbed.
“Then your witnesses are lying. I met her after her husband was already dead.” Shriner gave him a steely glare. “She had been gambling heavily, and I gave her a shoulder to cry on. She was desperate and I was rock bottom. I joined Gamblers Anonymous first and convinced her to come to a meeting. That’s the extent of our relationship. One forged in misery.”
“So tell me again about this scheme you cooked up because she spent the insurance money.”
“We’re mining old territory.”
“Indulge me.”
Shriner finished the lemonade and put the glass on a patio table. “Melinda had blown most of the insurance money from her husband at the casinos.”
“What was her choice of poison?”
“The card tables. She resisted joining GA because, like most addicts, she was convinced that she had it under control. It took a lot of prodding on my part, but she agreed to accompany me to a meeting. Then she went to another…and another. Soon she realized the extent of her problem. The money was almost gone and if she didn’t get it together, she’d be destitute. She needed to borrow money to tide her over until some bond interest came due, and her parents were the only ones who wouldn’t do a credit check.”
“But they knew she had the insurance money.”
“Exactly the point. She couldn’t tell them the truth about her gambling. She felt they wouldn’t understand her psychological state.”
“Or maybe they were tired of giving her their hard-earned money.”
“That’s why she was petrified to face them. She told me that if she admitted her gambling to her parents, they’d try to take away the kids. So she asked me if I could think of something to help her out.”
“So you lied for her.”
“Not completely. I said she could tell her parents that she spent the insurance money on a private detective. I’d back up her story.”
“Did they call?”
“Of course. I could tell that they liked Ben. Money spent for the case would be acceptable.”
“What did you say?”
“That I was looking into the case and was in contact with the detectives. They accepted that.”
Oliver said, “According to Melinda’s mom, she knew it was not.”
“Then she didn’t let on to me.”
“Which detective did you speak with?”
“Arnie Lamar. Both he and his partner thought it was a carjacking. He also told me they suspected Darnell Arlington but couldn’t pin it on him because he had an ironclad alibi. That’s why I called Darnell up. And like I told you the first time, he seemed broken up about Little’s death.”
“Why did Lamar suspect Arlington if the kid had an alibi?”
“Because Arlington was a black kid and had a beef against Little. For a while, he and his partner were working on the assumption that Arlington got one of his friends to do it, but that went nowhere. Arlington didn’t seem to have much contact with his friends once he moved, and he certainly didn’t have any hit money to do the payoff.”
“Maybe they did it as a favor.”
“Lamar said that according to the phone records, there wasn’t a lot of back and forth contact between Arlington and his old friends. Maybe Darnell kept in communication by carrier pigeon, but I didn’t have any way of exploring that option.” He checked his watch again. “Oliver, things were cold when I stepped in. And while I’m a good detective, I don’t like to work for pennies. I wrote up a report and covered her butt so that she could save face with her parents.”
“And you two were never sexually involved?”
“She wasn’t interested in me, and I didn’t want to push it. I was separated from my wife at the time, so it wasn’t a moral thing. I suppose I didn’t think it was a good idea for two gamblers to hook up even temporarily. Also, it would have destroyed any chance of reconciliation with my wife. For once, I was trying to act smart.”
He sighed and looked longingly at the golf course.
“I’d really like to catch that game.”
Oliver ignored him. “Let me ask you this, Shriner. If you knew that Melinda had been gambling all through her marriage and was in debt, do you think that she, in her darkest hour of despair, would kill for insurance money?”
“She didn’t kill him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know, Oliver. We were in GA together for over a year. You admit a lot of things to yourself and to the group. You get to know people pretty damn well.”
“She wouldn’t admit to murder.”
Shriner came in from the patio, went into the closet, and took out a bag of golf clubs. “I’m not saying she was an angel. She probably wasn’t a very good mother. She probably wasn’t a particularly good wife. She probably drank too much and maybe she ran around a little, but I don’t think she’s a murderer.”
“Ran around a little?” Oliver let go of a smile. “Why would you think she was loose if you two didn’t fuck?”
Shriner’s face grew pink. “She wasn’t loose. I don’t know why I said it.”
“What is it? Did she come on to you?”
“You think I’d turn her down?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you would.”
“I gotta go.”
Then it dawned on Oliver. “She admitted things in Gamblers Anonymous. That’s part of the program, to admit your past mistakes. Things like having an affair. So if she didn’t fuck you, who’d she fuck?”
“You know I can’t divulge confidences.”
“Shriner, I’m trying to solve a murder.”
“I can’t divulge confidences!”
“Okay, don’t tell me who she fucked. Just give me a list of possible names.”
“No—”
“Just a first name. How about that?”
“Oliver, give me a break. I can’t divulge confidences. And if you go to her and tell her that I told you about an affair, I’ll sue your ass off.”
“Did she have an affair with one of Little’s students? Sometimes women get a kick out of that. Sticking one to the old man who had time for everyone except the wife. Did she have an affair with Darnell Arlington?”
“Oh, Christ, Oliver, the kid was seventeen when he left.”
“And a seventeen-year-old can’t get a hard-on? There are teachers getting it on with twelve-year-olds. Seventeen is practically legal. And probably a lot better than her old man, right? Maybe that’s why Little had him expelled.”
“You have an evil mind. She didn’t fuck Arlington. I’ll tell you that much.”
“How about a former North Valley student. He would have been about twenty-one or twenty-two at the time of Little’s death. Does the name Rudy Banks ring a bell?” And there it was…that millisecond pause. Oliver clapped his hands. “Holy shit, it was Rudy.”
“I’m leaving now.”
“He’s missing by the way—Rudy is.”
That stopped Shriner for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“He moved out of his apartment last Saturday.”
“So he moved. That doesn’t mean he’s missing.”
“We can’t find him, there’s no forwarding address, and the neighbors never saw him with the movers. Plus we found blood in his apartment.”
Shriner grimaced slightly. “I can’t help you there. I haven’t thought about Banks in years.”
“But you thought about him at one time. Did you ever consider him a suspect in Little’s murder?”
“I can’t say anything.”
“We’re not talking about Melinda Little, we’re talking about Rudy Banks. Did you ever consider him a suspect in Bennett Little’s murder?”
He sighed. “His name came up.”
“And?”
“That’s it. I mentioned him to the police. I’m not in the business of solving murders. I’m in the business of passing along information to cops who are supposed to be solving murders. If they don’t choose to act on it, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Why did you mention him to the police? What made you consider him a suspect?”
“I can’t get into that without breaking confidences.”
“Do you know what Banks had against Little?”
“Banks felt Little had disrespected him, but Rudy felt everyone disrespected him.”
“You told your suspicions to Arnie Lamar?”
“No, Lamar wasn’t in. It was the other one.”
“Calvin Vitton?”
“That’s the one.”
“And you never followed up on it?”
“No, I never followed up on it. I am not in a position to arrest anyone. If the police didn’t think he was worth looking into, who am I to step on toes.”
“All right,” Oliver tried to contain his anger. “You can’t solve everyone’s problems. But why didn’t you tell me that you suspected Rudy Banks?”
“You never asked.”
THE TRAVEL BROCHURE featured an inland cruise to Alaska: seven days of sailing and port stops leaving from Vancouver, British Columbia, and ending up in Anchorage. Cindy said, “The best part is that it goes from Sunday to Sunday so Shabbat isn’t a problem.”
Decker skimmed the information.
It was Cindy’s day off, and when she called to get together, it came at an opportune time. Cal Junior had canceled their appointment, deciding that Los Angeles was too much for him and he was too emotional to talk, anyway. If Decker wanted to talk to him next week, he’d probably be calm enough for a conversation. And while what Cal J said was probably true, Decker suspected that Freddie Vitton had had a long talk with his brother, steering him away from the interview.
Win some, lose some. In the meantime, he was sitting with his beautiful daughter at a local café not too far from the station house, sneaking glances at Cindy with her flaming hair bundled up in a scrunchie. A few loose strands blew in her face and she kept sweeping them away with graceful fingers. She wore jeans and a green T-shirt. Since she hadn’t put on makeup, her face was splattered with freckles.
He smiled. “It sounds great. When were you planning on making the voyage?”
“Last week in August. Oddly enough, that’s your vacation time, too.” Decker was silent. “Didn’t you say something about always wanting to go to Alaska?”
“Don’t recall it.”
“Doesn’t it sound like a fabulous trip?”
“I told you, it sounds great.”
“And the problem is?”
“We need kosher food.”
“Dad, I’ve talked to the people in charge. There are always plenty of fresh fruits, vegetables, and vegetarian entrées.”
“Rina doesn’t eat cooked food, Cindy, unless it’s kosher.”
“They always have tuna salad and egg salad. Plus they’re happy to supply new plates and cutlery. They even said it isn’t a problem to buy a new set of knives for our family and cut up a whole salmon just for us. They’ll cook it in foil or buy a new sauté pan. Dealing with kosher food is nothing they haven’t done before. They get vegetarians, they get Muslims only eating halal, they get kosher, they get low salt, low fat, diabetic, high blood pressure. They work with hundreds of people with dozens of dietary needs. Plus, you have the option of TV kosher dinners—”
“That sounds charming.”
“It’s a cruise, Daddy. Food is never a problem. And when all else fails, there’s always ice cream.”
She was probably right. Besides, dietary restrictions weren’t a bad way to control the gluttony. He had heard that people gain massive poundage on these kinds of jaunts. “Let me talk to Rina.”
“I already have.”
Decker made a face. “Thank you for running my life.”
“I called just to ask her if it was even feasible. Once she said it was feasible, she told me to talk to you.” Cindy lifted her cappuccino. “Hence, my presence.”
“I think Sammy and Jacob will be home that week.”
“Great. You know how much the boys love Koby.”
Decker was already looking at the rates. “This is going to cost a fortune. There are seven adults.”
“Only five. Koby has agreed to work in exchange for our fare.”
“That doesn’t seem very equitable. Our playing while he’s working.”
“It was totally his decision and we’re going whether you go or not. It’s something we both want to do. I’m asking you to come along, not to wangle money out of your pocket, but because we’d really love to do this as a family. Last year, Mom and Alan took us to Mexico for a week. We had so much fun that I thought I’d like to do it with your side. Alaska seems like your kind of place, Daddy. And look at all the excursions we could do when we go to port.”
Decker started reading, and despite his reticence, he became excited. Among the activities listed were canoeing, white-water rafting, hiking, kayaking, salmon fishing, panning for gold, and taking a helicopter ride to a glacier. And then he noticed the fine print. Optional excursions were not included in the price of the cruise.
Well, he didn’t have to do every activity.
“What did Rina say when you broached this with her?”
“I told you. She said she was game, but of course it was up to you.”
Decker thought a moment. They never went anywhere when he had vacation time, other than to visit the boys back east. If the kitchen was willing to make accommodations, it sounded like a good thing to him. Unpack once and enjoy the open seas, even if the average age was probably around seventy.
Seventy didn’t seem that old anymore.
Mostly he felt extremely touched that his daughter wanted to include him in her vacation plans. This was the dream of most parents: relaxing and laughing with adult children. “This seems like something I could get behind.”
Cindy’s smile was radiant. “You’re considering it?”
Decker laughed. “Is that so unusual?”
“Yes. Usually when I suggest something, it just…I don’t know. It never works out. I’m so happy!”
“First I have to talk it over with Rina. Then I have to check my schedule again. Then we have to deal with the boys. I’ll try to make it happen, Cindy. It actually seems like something that everyone could enjoy. And I’ll pay for you two. It isn’t going to send me to the poorhouse.”
“Absolutely not. Koby would never agree to it. But if you want to pay for the helicopter ride so we can walk on the glacier, I won’t object.”
Decker raised his espresso to his lips. “This was an expensive cup of coffee.”
Cindy reached into her pocketbook and took out several pieces of paper. “You didn’t think I came all this distance just to talk you into going to Alaska.”
That’s exactly what he thought. “What do you have?”
“I’ve been doing a little background check on Travis Martel and Geraldo Perry.”
“With or without Rip Garrett’s permission?”
“I didn’t ask for his blessing, but if he found out, I wouldn’t care. Both of the boys have a long sheet: drug offense, theft, B and Es, D and Ds, GTA, soliciting, illegal possession of firearms.” She looked at one of the pieces of paper. “Here you go. For your files.”
“Thanks.” He already had them, but why make her feel bad.
“I’ve also done a little bit of investigating beyond the obvious. Perry is from Indiana, so I don’t know too much about his youth, but Martel is a local boy. He went to L.A. High for about a year before he dropped out. I found his yearbook. He was in the rappers’ club.”
“They have a rappers’ club in high school?”
“Clubs are a reflection of the student body’s interests. All you need is a sponsor and some kids for membership. Anyway, his being in a rappers’ club makes total sense because when Martel was booked, he listed his occupation was ‘aspiring rapper.’”
“As in he’s never made a record.”
“That’s not entirely true, and we really don’t say ‘made a record’ anymore, Daddy. It kinda sounds like classic vinyl.”
“Cut a CD?”
“These days you don’t need a label and a producer to get your song out, since you have the Internet. Do you know about MySpace?”
“It’s a networking website.”
“Exactly. It’s actually a social networking website as opposed to a professional one. One of the things it’s known for is sharing material. Anyone who has a MySpace account can surf and look at your websites unless he or she is specifically blocked. Lots of bands and singers without contracts use MySpace to showcase their material. It’s specifically geared toward downloading music. So I started surfing to see if either Perry or Martel had a profile.”
“And you found something.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” She turned pink. “I mean, I love spending time with you, but I know you’re busy and I don’t like to bother you—”
“You’re never a bother. What did you find?”
“Travis has a MyFace profile under his nom de rap.” She looked down at her notes. “He has several of them: Rated-X. Travis-X, X Marks the Spot, or plain X. I downloaded whatever songs he uploaded. I thought maybe there’s something in his lyrics that I would find interesting. He’s really hard to understand. It took me a long time and slowing down the speed to get them all down.”
She handed him several pieces of paper.
“Look at number three, second paragraph: ‘All Bets Are Off.’”
“Which one?”
“‘All Bets Are Off’: paragraph three.”
Decker read the doggerel to himself.
Take it all, take it all, that’s my philoso-phy
This whole fuckin’ world ain’t got integri-ty
So mess up the ho’ with the beasti-al-ity
It’s me for all and it’s all for me
Like music and the crime—the shit of B and E
You grab it for yourself and fuck etern-ity.
“Charming. What am I looking for?”
“Look at line five, Daddy. Like the music and the crime—the shit of B and E. Not just the crime of B and E. The music and the crime—the shit of B and E. Maybe I’m reading too much into it because I want to, but maybe he’s not just talking about breaking and entering.”
Decker said, “Banks and Ekerling.”
“Maybe you should see Marilyn Eustis again.”
“She knows that Travis Martel and Geraldo Perry were arrested for the murder. She told police she didn’t know either one of them.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know them, but it could be that there’s something in Ekerling’s files about them.”
“I’m sure the police went over his files. Besides, from what she told me, Ekerling didn’t produce a lot of rap.” Decker regarded the rap words again. “But it is worth another look. Thanks for the tip. Did you relay this information to Garrett and Diaz?”
“Not yet. I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially because you seem to be doing a good job of that. Besides, you’re the one investigating homicides. Me? I’m a peon in GTA. And maybe B and E is just breaking and entering. Still, I’m passing it on to you. If you want to pursue it, fine.”
Decker said, “It’s worth a second look.”
“That’s what I thought. If it goes anywhere, you can pass it on to Garrett and Diaz so there won’t be any hard feelings.”
“Absolutely. Thanks, Cynthia, you’re thinking like a pro.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s hope when you pass the information to Rip Garrett and Tito Diaz, they feel like you do and thank me as well. When it comes to promotion time, let’s hope they think of my ingenuity.”