chapter fourteen

Early the next morning, as I made my way through the traffic gridlocking the 405 freeway that linked Venice and the San Fernando Valley, questions buzzed in my brain.

Lee had moved out. It seemed likely his trouble at home was linked to Lee’s involvement with the now dead stripper. Had the new security system he’d installed at his Palisades home been aimed at keeping a hot little blackmailer away from the family? Had Dr. Lee done more than just install security? He wouldn’t be the first guy to panic at blackmail and shove an inconvenient girlfriend into the void. For that matter, Mrs. Lee wouldn’t be the first wife to back her cheating husband over a rival even if she did kick him out temporairily by way of payback.

In any event, Britney Devonshire’s overdose was looking less and less “accidental.” I needed to talk to Lee himself and see what I could see.

Sun Valley is a sunny name for a bland gray industrial section of the city. Genesys took up half a street block in this unassuming part of town, opposite a Psychic Franchise, and an Herbal Care, the drive-through boutiques that sell Lipitor, marijuana and other pharmaceutical antidotes to the pain of living.

The three-story burnt sienna-colored building could have housed an insurance company, so nondescript was its boxy façade. But the bland impression was quickly dispelled by the band of protestors spilling over from the sidewalk and blocking my entry through the gated Genesys parking lot. Tapping the horn, I waited in my idling Porsche, a rock in a stream as activists protesting the biomedical research company slowly flowed around me.

Their signs featured slogans in dripping red. Subtle slogans like: Genesys means Genocide: No to GMO, and Yes on Personhood, No to Murder! An equal opportunity offender, Lee’s company had managed to alienate both sides of the political spectrum.

Security guards posted just inside the gate were hardbodied guys with that ramrod straight posture you see on ex-Marines—heavy duty for corporate watchdogs. The Genesys brass must have been worried about the protestors.

All the politics and protest were also unwelcome reminders of the police bond in the upcoming election and Captain Tatum’s warning to me. I had to tread carefully.

As the sea of red paint parted and I threaded my way into the parking lot, one obvious hype caught my eye. He had the greenish pallor, rotten teeth and loose skin hanging off his emaciated frame so typical of long-time ice addicts. An addict with a cause though, that was different. Mumbling, the hype pressed a flyer under my car’s windshield wiper. Others followed. They papered my car with flyers as I inched past.

“Shame on You, Yes on 2!” shouted the crowd, now safely in my rear view mirror. “Nature’s Way, Not Corporate Play!”

Disease is nature’s way too. I dumped the flyers in the circular file just outside the main entrance to Genesys.

Just inside the door I stopped at the security desk in front of the metal detector that blocked entry into the main lobby.

“Detective Piedmont,” I said and flashed my badge to the security guard. “I’d like to talk to one of your employees.”

Technically, I shouldn’t have used the authority of the badge while on vacation, but one glimpse of that gold shield and the guard’s bored demeanor instantly changed into something more respectful.

Eyes wide, he looked up from my badge and scanned my gray Brioni jacket for the telltale bulge where my Glock was tucked. It was my personal sidearm. The department issued Glock was still impounded. But he nodded me through and signed out a visitor’s badge.

At the reception desk I asked to see Dr. Lee.

The hologrammed receptionist informed me Dr. Lee was not on the premises and asked if I wanted to leave a message.

“When will he be back?”

In no time at all Ms. Som, Director of Human Resources, appeared at my side wearing a silk dress in muted green and black along with her helpful smile. She informed me that Dr. Lee had taken sabbatical two weeks ago.

That made me perk up. Dr. Lee might be homeshored, but he wasn’t home. So why had his wife called him here? Were things between them so cool she really didn’t know where her husband was?

“When was the last time he logged in?” I said.

Emily Som tapped her authorization code into the personnel log and scanned a more restricted roster. “October 1st.”

A couple days before Britney’s death.

“Do you have a sabbatical address for him?”

She gave me the number for the Palisades place.

Another query told me Lee’s salary went to direct deposit—another dead end.

“I need to talk to Lee’s boss,” I said. “Mr. Maclaren.”

“The CEO?” Ms. Som’s voice crept up half an octave.

“Would you call him.” It wasn’t a question.

“That might . . . take a while.”

She gestured towards one of the chairs clustered around a squat coffee table in the lobby. “It will be at least an hour. If it’s even possible for you to see him on such short notice.”

Cut from marble, the squat table stood rooted under a central skylight. A square glass vase filled with waxy white orchids anchored in smooth black stones sat on the surface of the marble table. Across the way near the elevator, a screen played ads for the company’s products. New meds in the pipeline included a treatment for erectile dysfunction. The screen changed.

“Genesys is on the cutting edge of Alzheimer’s X research,” a spokesmodel in a lab coat intoned.

Glancing at people walking through the lobby, I spotted a derma ad tattooed on the inside of a trim left ankle. The ankle belonged to a blonde in a white lab coat heading for the elevators.

Britney’d had a derma ad on her too, albeit for a marijuana boutique. Shin had said she’d been paid peanuts for it. In her file Shin listed his visit to the tattoo-parlor where Lotus Eaters’ human billboards were inked. Britney’s ad had been done only four hours prior to her estimated time of death. After that she’d texted or phoned only two people—her friend Mercedes and Dr. Lee. That gave a pretty tight timeframe for a last visit from Dr. Lee—if he’d made one.

Ms. Som was still on her phone, back towards me. If I had to wait an hour to see the CEO, I saw no reason to waste it sitting here.

I popped the tracker off my visitor’s badge, flicking the dot to the ground near the foot of my chair, and headed off down the hall. But I got no further than the marketing kiosk when raised voices caught my attention. I stuck my head around the corner and saw Emily Som, the HR director with a security guard standing next to the squat table in the lobby. The guard was kneeling on the ground looking for something. Then, he hoisted himself up, and with thumb and forefinger, held aloft what I assumed was the tracker I’d just dislodged from my visitor’s badge.

With an easy-going air, I headed straight back toward Emily Som and the security guard. “Guess the CEO can squeeze me in after all?”

A look of relief washed over their faces as they wheeled around and saw me with the visitor’s badge still prominently displayed on my lapel. Emily Som inhaled sharply. “Mr. Maclaren said to bring you right up.”

“Great.” I had lots of questions. Maybe Lee’s boss would have a few answers.