CHAPTER 41

WHO THE FUCK is this?”

If Decker hadn’t recognized the timbre, he sure would have recognized the hostility. “It’s Lieutenant Peter Decker, Rudy. You asked for me.” Silence. “How are you doing?”

“How the fuck do you think I’m doing? All of a sudden, I’m looking down the barrel of the fucking U.S. Army. What the motherfucking hell is going on?”

The negotiator was writing like mad and pointing to his pad. Decker ignored him. “I’m not sure. I just got here.”

“What the fuck did I do?”

“Who said you did anything?”

There was a pause. “Then why is some fucking cunt on the news flashing my picture on TV and saying I’m wanted for murder?”

“I have no idea,” Decker told him. “Why don’t you fill me in on what happened?”

“Why don’t you ask one of your fellow morons what happened? Don’t you idiots talk to each other?”

“All we’re doing is trading ignorance. Only you know the real story.”

“Fucking A right about that! Why were you interested in talking to me in the first place, Decker?”

“I was stuck with a cold case. We were routinely interviewing everyone who was interviewed at the time. I told you that the first time we spoke.”

“Who the fuck remembers? What cold case?”

“Dr. Bennett Little.”

“Nobody ever interviewed me for Bennett Little’s murder. I told you, I barely remember it.”

Decker said, “Well, your name came up somehow. Who the hell knows? We haven’t made any progress on it, so we’re shelving it again. What’s going on inside there, Rudy?”

“Assholes. A guy can’t even fuck in peace anymore. How the hell did you find me?”

“Find you?” Decker paused for effect. “I didn’t know you were missing.” A beat. “What’s going on, Rudy? I was rudely awakened from a sound sleep and told to get my ass down here. I’m getting all kinds of conflicting information. I want to hear from you.”

“Don’t give me that fucking sincere jackass bullshit! What you want is for me to step outside so you can shoot my ass off.”

“If that’s what you think, don’t step outside.”

The negotiator was gesticulating like a wild man. Decker looked down at the notepad and promptly passed up his suggestion. “Hey, Rudy, you called me.” A beat. “Talk to me, man. Maybe I can help you.”

“You tell those motherfucking, asshole pricks that if I go down, I’m going down in a blaze of glory! You fucking assholes don’t know who the hell you’re dealing with!”

Decker began to improvise. “Rudy, everyone knows who you are. The Doodoo Sluts went platinum, buddy. We all know who we’re dealing with.”

“Who put you up to this?”

“To what?”

“To looking for me?”

“I told you, Rudy, I wanted to talk to you about Bennett Little. But that case is dead—”

“You talked to that bitch, didn’t you? Fucking cunt thinks I had something to do with her asshole boyfriend’s death. I was nowhere around! I was at a party.”

“Which woman are you talking about?”

“C’mon, c’mon. I don’t like games. You play me for a fucking fool, I fucking blow holes in these bitches’ heads!”

Decker took a chance. “I don’t know who you mean. Do you mean Melinda Little?”

“Melinda Little?” A pause. “What does she have to do with it?”

“I told you, I was working on the Bennett Little case. She’s the only woman I know.”

“Not Melinda Little. Marilyn Eustis.”

“Who’s she?”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“No, I’m not. Who is she?”

“Primo Ekerling’s girlfriend.”

“Ekerling isn’t my case, Rudy.” Decker hoped his lie was smooth. “It’s Hollywood’s case. The only thing I know about it is what I’ve read in the newspaper. I know you two were business partners, I know you two were bandmates. I had no idea that Hollywood wanted to talk to you.”

There was a long pause.

Decker said, “What’s going on, Rudy?”

“What’s going on is that piece of fat lard shit came after me with a gun! Suddenly I’m surrounded by a bunch of fucking Nazis! What’d I do except try to defend myself!”

“Rudy, they tell me that the lard ass has been shot. Is that true?”

“I was trying to defend myself.”

“I know, and I completely believe you. But if the asshole was shot, it would be good if you sent him out here so the paramedics can take a look at him.”

“Paramedics, my ass. You fucking assholes want to storm-troop the place.”

“How about this, Rudy? I’ll stay out on the front lawn with my hands up in the air. You send out Lard Ass while you keep a bead on me. If you think I’m trying to snow you, shoot my head off.”

“I don’t even know what the fuck you look like?”

“I’ll be the only one standing in the middle of the lawn with a helmet on my head and my hands in the air.”

“How can I shoot your head off if you’re wearing a helmet?”

“Aim for the chest.”

“You’re probably going to be wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“Absolutely, I’ll be wearing a bulletproof vest. The point is, you’ll have the gun but I’ll be unarmed. You have the advantage, and I don’t want to die.”

“And while I’m keeping a bead on you, trying to decide where to plug you, some motherfucking sharpshooter has a bead on me.”

“Rudy, I have no idea what room you’re phoning from.”

“And I have no idea where you’re phoning from. I don’t see anyone out there on the phone.”

“I’m in a police mobile unit. But I have my cell phone. How about this? I’ll walk into the center of the lawn with my helmet and my vest and call you from my cell.”

“Don’t call me, I’ll call you.” He cut the line.

The Kevlar vest and a helmet were waiting for him. The vest fit, and although the helmet was a little tight, he could get it over his skull.

Cressly said, “Try not to get picked off.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“We’ve got guys from all angles—SMPD, LAPD, and our sharpshooters.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Decker thought about being shot, and his mind immediately raced back to the few times he actually had been shot. Banks was a psycho, but on the psycho scale he was nowhere near Hersh Schwartz, and he was universes away from Chris Donatti. He left the van and walked into the middle of the front lawn. Flashbulbs were popping in his face…bursts of light like tracers. When his cell rang, Decker jumped. With shaking hands, he answered the call. “I take it you see me?”

“Yeah, I see you. You look like you’re ready for Iraq.”

“I’m just a cautious guy.”

“Either you’re a real dumb ass or I’m a real dumb ass.”

“How about if none of us are dumb asses and you let Mr. Lard Ass out.”

“Your hands aren’t up.”

Decker wedged the cell between his cheek and his shoulder. Then he raised both hands in the air. “Okay?”

Rudy didn’t answer.

“Hello?”

“I’m still fucking here…as long as the fucking phone company allows my nighttime minutes.”

The two of them went on for a few more minutes. Decker’s arms began to ache. “I’ve got to put my arms down, Rudy. I’m going to move very slowly. Don’t get any bad ideas.” Bit by bit, he lowered his limbs until they were at his side. His feet were cold and tired, but he soldiered on. “See? I’m still harmless and still talking to you. Open communication. How about letting Lard Ass go?”

“How about not?”

They continued to talk for another hour. Decker’s patience was rewarded when Cecil Dobbins came out huffing and puffing, holding his injured arm. Immediately the paramedics went to work.

Decker said, “That was really smart, Rudy. Really, really smart. Do you mind if I back away?”

“Afraid I might get Itchy Finger?”

“The thought occurred to me.”

“Why do I need you? I’ve got three in here for target practice.” As Decker started to back away, Banks said, “Stay where you are.”

Decker stopped abruptly. His feet were like two blocks of ice. It had been hot in the Valley, but the beach was always ten to twenty degrees cooler in the summer. His shoulders were throbbing, brought on by the extra weight of the vest, the tension in his muscles, and the chilled saline spray carried over by the ocean breezes.

Rudy said, “I like seeing you.”

Decker said, “Fine. I won’t move. I just want to shift positions. My balance is off.”

“Move slowly. If you make a wrong move, you’re dead.”

“I hear you.” Decker rocked on his feet until he evened his weight distribution. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Decker couldn’t believe the bastard had actually said something nice. Rapport, rapport. “So what’s going on?”

“You fucking tell me.”

“I wish I knew all the facts. You asked to talk to me, I’m here. You tell me to stand in the middle of the lawn, I do it. You’re in control right now.”

“Fucking A right about that. You tell Hollywood Police that I had nothing to do with that bastard’s death. I’m glad that he died, but I didn’t kill him.”

“Not to be dim-witted, but are you talking about Primo Ekerling?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m talking about Ekerling. They have the guys who did it. Frankly, I’d like to give them a medal. The son of a bitch was a lousy drunk and a real bad bass player. Fucking bunch of no-talents. If it hadn’t been for me, they wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.”

“Rudy, everyone knows you were the group.” Another twenty minutes passed as Decker continued to praise Banks while Banks swore back in agreement. Finally Decker took a step forward. “We all know you’re a smart guy, Rudy. You let out Lard Ass. That was smart. Be smart again and let someone else go. Why bother with three bitches when it’s easier to keep an eye out on only one.”

“’Cause in case one escapes, I got one for backup.”

“Okay, so let one of them go.”

“Which one?”

“You decide.”

There was sudden noise in the background, women screaming. Decker’s heart was doing a steeplechase, and it took all his nerve not to rush the building. Since he didn’t hear any guns firing in the background, he willed himself to stand still. Five minutes later, a naked young woman came running out of the building, holding a shirt against her chest to cover her breasts. Immediately, she was scooped up by the waiting paramedics.

One down and two to go. Decker said, “That was really smart, Rudy. You keep being smart, I’m going to get you out of this mess.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me!”

“I’m going to do my best.”

“Start by telling all those cops to get the hell out of here. Once they’re gone, I’ll come out. Then we’ll talk, just you and me.”

“I can probably get them to back off a little.”

“Not back off. I want the motherfuckers to leave!”

“They’re not going to do that. Not until you send out the hostages. Once you do that, I can probably get them out of here.”

“If I send out the bitches, they’re going to fucking rush me. I can stay holed up a long time, Decker. I got food, I got women. I’m an independent kind a guy.”

He had to sleep, Decker thought. Some time within the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours, his adrenaline was going to deplete, and fatigue was going to get the better of him. He said, “I’m not rushing you. You tell me what you want, I’ll try to get it done.”

“I want the fucking circus out of here!”

“I can get the news vans away. The paramedics are going to stay. So will the fire trucks.”

“I’m not burning anything down.” Decker didn’t answer. Banks said, “Get the cops out of here.”

“Let me see what I can do. I’m going to back away from the house, Rudy. I have to talk to people if you want me to get it done. It might take a little time. Call me if you have questions, okay?”

“Okay.” Rudy cut the line.

Decker backed away until he was out of range, then he ran into the police van. He took his helmet off and rubbed his aching temples. “My feet are freezing, and I’ve got a monster headache. I need a thick pair of socks, Advil, and some caffeinated coffee. I’ve got to get back.”

Cressly handed him a bigger helmet and said, “Get the lieutenant what he needs.”

“Thank you.” Decker tried on his new head protection. Much better. “Banks wants the heat to back off. Make a show of doing something while I think of my next move. Any advice?”

Ellenshaw said, “No advice. You’re doing fine.”

Cressly said, “We’ll try to pull as many cars off as we can, but we don’t want to leave you naked in the wind.”

“Just do something to give me some credibility.” Decker downed the tablets and poured himself a giant cup of coffee.

A few minutes later, Cressly got off the phone with SMPD. He said, “We’re taking away some of the visible units. He’s not stupid, though. He’ll know we’re still out there.”

“Yeah, but sometimes seeing is believing.” Decker had wolfed down two muffins and had chugged two cups of coffee. He tightened the chinstrap of his helmet and adjusted the bulletproof protection across his heart. In addition, he had put on a double-ply pair of gym socks and a bomber jacket. He was sweating. “I should be getting back.”

“Good luck,” Cressly told him.

“Thanks.”

Decker jogged back out to the front of the lawn as black-and-whites began to retreat from the front of the house. Five minutes later, his cell rang. “Decker.”

“That’s the best you can do? There’s still a fucking army out there! Lemme count…one, two, three, four, five…I count at least a half-dozen cars in my sight. I know they’ve probably got about twenty surrounding the place.”

“What’s the least amount of cop cars you can deal with?”

“None.”

“How about two?”

“Start with two.”

A half hour later, two lone cruisers sat in front of the Sand Dune. Decker said, “I did what I could for you, Rudy. How about showing some good faith and letting another gal loose?”

It took another half hour of prodding for a second naked woman to emerge from the seedy motel.

Two down, one to go. “That was smart, Rudy.”

“I was a fucking moron to let her go. As soon as the last bitch is out of my hands, I’m dead.”

“Rudy, I know you’re going to think that what I’m saying is pure bullshit, but no one wants to shoot you.” Decker paused. “What if I come in and the three of us go out together?”

“I’m a fucking moron but not that big of a fucking moron.”

“What’s making you nervous?” Decker asked. “I’ll strip down buck naked so you can see that I’m not hiding weapons.”

“How many snipers do you have out there, Decker?”

“I’ll walk in front of you. They won’t shoot me to get to you.” Decker raised his eyes. “At least I hope they won’t do that!” No answer. “I’m just trying to make this as easy as I can. But if you want, you can hole out there for as long as you want.”

“Fucking A right about that!”

The next hour was chitchat. It was a little past three in the morning. Despite the socks, Decker’s feet remained cool if not cold and ached like hell from standing so long. The rest of his body was bathed in sweat. Exhaustion was overtaking him, and he had to fight to keep awake and alert. Finally, he said, “Rudy, you can stay where you are as long as you want, but I’m going to need some sleep.”

“So lie down and go to sleep.”

Decker said, “Let me come in there, and we’ll all go out together. You put the girl in front of you, I’ll walk behind. We’ll surround you until we get you safe and sound.”

“And arrested.”

“If all you did was shoot Lard Ass in self-defense, the only thing you’ll be charged with is illegal possession of a firearm.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’ll guarantee it,” Decker said.

“You don’t have that kind of power!”

“I got the cops pulled back, didn’t I?”

“I’m not a fucking moron; you don’t have that kind of power.”

Decker repeated himself. “If all you did was shoot Lard Ass in self-defense, we can only charge you with illegal possession of a firearm. Can you live with that?”

“Of course, I could live with that, but you assholes are going to charge me with attempted murder.”

“You shot him in the arm, Rudy. Not the chest, not the head, not the stomach. In the arm. Every one of us knows you weren’t aiming to kill.”

It took time to convince Rudy of Decker’s sincerity, but he finally agreed to some kind of surrender plan. More time passed as Banks went back and forth on how to handle giving himself up.

First Decker had to take off his bomber jacket and strip down to his vest. Then Banks told Decker to take off his shoes, show his ankles, and turn his pants pockets inside out. He managed to sneak a glance at his illuminated watch. It was almost five in the morning. The sun would be up within the hour.

Banks said, “I’m taking the bitch down to the lobby. I’ll tell you when you can come in.”

“You’ve got it.” He waited over the line as he heard a female voice plead for her life. She was sobbing and mewing and Decker wished she would just shut up. He didn’t want Banks to become unnerved. Finally, Rudy’s voice came through his cell. “You can come in. Do it slowly.”

Decker inched his way into the dark lobby. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the woman first, then the gun at her head, then someone taller in back. Curly dark hair with burning eyes. A square chin and high cheekbones. The same Rudy Banks he had seen on the Web, but with the look of a feral animal.

Rudy talked softly. His voice was surprisingly calm. “I just thought of something. If you’re in back of me, what’s stopping you from jumping me?”

“I won’t jump you. But if that plan makes you nervous, let the girl go and put the gun to my head.”

“Hard to do when you’re wearing a helmet.”

“I’m not going to take off the helmet. Let me repeat. You have the gun. I am unarmed.”

“You’re a big man. As soon as I let her go, you’re going for my gun.”

“If I was going to charge you, I would have come in with ten sharpshooters. I also know what it feels like to be shot. I’m not anxious to experience it again.”

“You’ve been shot before?”

“Twice.” Decker waited to hear his next move.

No one spoke for what seemed like eternity. Rudy weighed his options.

“I’m not going to let go of the girl. She’s the only protection I have against getting my head blown off.”

Decker tried to be as calm as he could. He didn’t know which girl Rudy had in his clutches. Not that it mattered. All Decker saw was the terror plastered across a frightened child. “Do whatever you want. For what it’s worth, I think it’s better for you if you let her go. Less chance for something getting fucked up. But you’re the boss.”

“Fucking A right about that.”

Decker’s mind was racing with a single thought: how to get the gun away from the girl’s head without either of them getting shot. If Banks got shot, while that wasn’t ideal, Decker could certainly live with that. He could make out the girl’s eyes—dilated and awash in fear. “What’s next, boss?”

“Down on your knees.”

That was not going to happen. Decker said, “If you’re going to shoot me, you’re going to shoot me standing up.”

“I’m not going to shoot you, but how do I know when I let her go, you’re not going to try to swipe the gun away.”

Decker took five steps backward. “I’m way out of your reach.”

After what seemed like hours…more like a few moments…Banks let go of the sobbing girl and she ran out of the lobby. Decker was now staring at the barrel of a Glock 11 mm semiautomatic. “Just you and me, boss.”

“Turn around.”

Decker said, “You’ve got to keep your eyes on me, but I’ve got to keep my eyes on you. If you get cranky and start peeling off rounds, I need to be able to duck.”

Silence.

“I’m not moving on you, Rudy.”

Banks’s arm was starting to shake. He propped it up with his free hand.

Decker said, “You’ll notice that we’ve been in here for what…five minutes and no one has stormed the place. It’s still just you and me.”

Rudy didn’t answer.

“All I have to do is phone and tell them we’re coming out,” Decker said. “That’s all I have to do. I promise you that none of our people want to fuck this up. Once you’re out of this sketchy situation, you’ll get your lawyer, you’ll get your bail, and you’re home drinking Scotch and watching the game on TV.”

“I fucking hate sports.”

“C’mon. You know what I’m saying. You’re a savvy guy, Rudy. You know how to work the media.” Decker tried to keep condescension out of his voice. “Show these stupid kids what badass really is.”

More silence.

The gun still aimed at his face.

Finally, Rudy whispered, “Make your call.”

“Smart,” Decker said. “Very smart.” He tried to work as quickly as he could before Banks could change his mind. “All set.”

Banks said, “We walk out slowly!”

Decker was shivering and sweating at the same time. “You better believe it.”

“You’re an idiot for coming in and making yourself a human shield.”

“I’m sure my wife would agree.”

“I think I’m a bigger idiot for trusting you.”

“At this point, the only option we have is to trust each other.”

“Are you going to get some kind of promotion for this?”

“Maybe I’ll get a bonus.”

“If we walk out alive.”

“Yeah, if we don’t, maybe my wife will get some insurance money.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! How the fuck did this happen?”

“I don’t know, Rudy. Hollywood called me down and told me you wanted to talk to me. That’s all I know.”

“You tell Hollywood that they’re fucking lunatics if they think they can slap me with Ekerling’s murder.”

“I will relay the message with all your sentiments.”

Banks exhaled, signifying resignation and/or fatigue. “Okay, let’s get this over with. You go first.”

“Rudy, you’re going to have to ditch the weapon. If they see the gun, they’re going to get nervous.”

Slowly Banks lowered the gun. Decker heard himself exhale audibly. “Smart. Put it down on the floor. Don’t kick it over to me. We don’t want anything to go off. Just gently put it down on the floor.”

Time crawled into second-hand ticks, but eventually Banks complied.

“Put your hands up and step away from the weapon.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“It’s almost over,” Decker soothed. “Raise your hands over your head, and we’ll walk out together.”

Banks cooperated.

“Perfectly done. You see, I’m not charging at you, I’m not doing anything stupid. I’m moving very slowly.”

Rudy didn’t answer.

Decker said, “You go first, but I’ll be right behind you.”

They inched their way out of the Sand Dune and stepped onto the porch. They were so close in proximity that Decker could smell Banks’s sour breath, hear his frantic pants with each intake of air. Dawn was palpable. Outside it had turned from black to gray. Visibility was a plus.

Seconds from victory. Just a few more steps.

They hadn’t gotten more than two paces forward when the single shot rang out. Immediately Decker dropped, covering his head and neck, trembling like a windblown aspen, not sure if the pain he felt was from the fire of a bullet or from his helmet knocking hard against the cold ground.

A surge of cops converged on him. He heard his own voice. It kept repeating, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.” He shook off the bodies around him. “I’m fucking okay! Leave me alone!” Trembling from fear and adrenaline, he rubbed his arms and waited for his eyes to focus. He was still viewing his life with rods instead of cones. A slew of paramedics were kneeling on the lawn, working frantically at the spot where he had stood a few moments ago.

“What the fuck happened?” he heard his voice ask.

“Someone shot the bastard,” a disembodied voice told him.

“How the fuck did that happen?” Decker spun around and was staring at Cressly. “I was inches from the bastard. Whoever the fuck shot at him could have gotten me!”

“It wasn’t one of us—”

“Then who the fuck was…” It was then that Decker noticed a commotion off to the side. The cops wrestling someone to the ground. He ran to the spot.

Ryan Goldberg was facedown with a cop on his back, a gun to his head, and twenty cops ready to beat the shit out of him if he moved. His hands had been drawn behind his back and secured with a plastic tie. A pistol lay a few feet away from where he had been tackled.

Decker was rendered speechless.

Somehow Liam O’Dell had made it through the yellow tape and over to the scene. He was frantic, waving his arms and shouting over and over: “Why’d you do it, Mudd? Why’d you do it? Why’d you do it?”

Ryan answered. “Because Rudy is bad.”

The cops hoisted Ryan to his feet and pushed O’Dell aside. He tripped and almost fell on the ground. As he got up, he shouted. “Fuck, Mudd! Now you’re going to jail. You’re going to jail!”

Ryan turned around and smiled beatifically. “Irish, I’ve been in jail for the last fifteen years. Wherever I’m going, it’s got to be better.”

“Oh Christ!” Liam tried to run after him, but the cops held him back, threatening him with jail if he didn’t get the fuck out. He shouted, “I’ll get you a lawyer, Mudd.”

“Call my brother,” Goldberg shouted back. “He’s a lung doctor.”