CHAPTER 49
So what did you find?”
It was Diane. It was just past ten in the morning. It was entirely too early to be talking about Daniel Pollard.
“He likes to go dumpster diving,” I said.
“Come again?”
“That’s what he did. Cruised a stroll in Cal City for a while, then hit the dumpsters. Pulled up a bunch of garbage and stuck it in the backseat of his car.”
Silence at the other end of the line. Understandable. Finally, she spoke.
“And then what?”
“Back to the stroll for a little more girl watching. In bed before sunrise.”
“Weird.”
“Yeah. Want to hear another weird thing? One of the women he was ogling turned out to be my client.”
“Client as in Elaine Remington?”
“I pulled her off a curb. Claims she likes to go down there every now and then. Plays dress-up.”
More silence. Longer this time. A lot longer.
“Is that what she told you?” Diane said.
“Yeah. I’m going to put a call in to Rachel Swenson today. See if I can set up some time with one of her counselors.”
“You think Elaine will go for that?”
“I think she’s dangerous. At least to herself.”
“Maybe finding the person who raped her will help.”
“Not sure that’s going to do it. But we can try.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Covert DNA,” I said.
“From Pollard?”
“I think it answers all our questions. I’m going to call Rodriguez today and set it up. You want the exclusive?”
“You know it.”
“Rodriguez will have to sign off. Swing by my office. Two o’clock this afternoon.”
I got off the phone and made the same arrangements with Rodriguez. Then I made a pot of coffee and pulled out Elaine’s street file. I got a piece of paper and began to make some notes. At my elbow was Reynolds’ working file on the Carol Gleason shooting. I read through it for about an hour, laid it beside the street file, and thought for a while. Then I picked up the phone and dialed.
“Masters.”
“It’s Kelly.”
A weary sigh.
“What do you want?”
“Nice to talk to you again, Detective. Listen, I need a favor.”
“Of course you do.”
“You remember the old file on Tony Salvucci?”
“The cop shooting? I’m sure it’s around.”
“I need to see a copy.”
“Told you I can’t do it.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not a cop. Because I don’t know what you’re up to. Because there’s nothing in it for me. Pick a reason, Kelly.”
I felt the conversation about to end and switched tactics.
“How about this. I swing by there with some information. You run with it. If anything pans out, I step away. You take the credit.”
“And if I don’t like it?”
“You walk away. This conversation never happened.”
“What are we talking about?”
“Long shot, but potentially? A career changer.”
There was a pause. I could feel the veteran cop calculating the risk. He didn’t like it, but I knew he would bite. Too much upside not to.
“Be here in thirty minutes. Ask for me, and don’t talk to anyone else.”
“Sure.”
“See you then.”
Masters hung up. I looked through my notes on Gleason, placed a call to Phoenix, and talked to Detective Reynolds for about ten minutes. Then I put the phone down and picked up the photo of Grime’s prosecution team. I had circled a face in the back. The image was blurred with time, but still very much there. I dropped the picture back on my desk and headed out to see Masters.