Page 38

Chapter

38

My workspace: the same large interview room, expanded visually by solitude.

The two whiteboards, wiped clean and free of images, had been pushed against a wall. I sat at the long table and pulled out my phone.

Milo stood in the doorway for a second before closing it.

—

Lee Falkenburg said, “Hi. What’s up?” Tight voice; guarded.

I said, “Things have changed and I really could use more information. I’ll do everything I can to protect your source. But without me, the police may get there first.”

“Why do you say that?”

“A suspect has been identified and there’s a good chance he’s got a connection to the Saucedo case. We’re talking multiple murders, Lee.”

“Oh God. What kind of connection?”

“In confidence?”

“Of course.”

“There’s a link between the suspect and Vicki’s brother. I’ve told the cops my assumption the brother wasn’t criminally involved and I’ve withheld his name but it’s only a matter of time before they identify him.”

“If he wasn’t involved, what’s the connection?”

“He may have complained about his sister’s attack and unwittingly given the suspect ideas. For your sake I’m not going to say more.”

“Multiple murders,” she said. “How many?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Oh shit, Alex. What exactly is it you want to know now?”

“There had to be a witness the night Vicki was brutalized and dumped. My money’s on your source. Whom I’m assuming is the staffer who found the body.”

Silence.

I said, “Lee, I need to know what he or she saw.”

“You realize the position you’re putting me in?”

“I do and I’m sorry, but one way or the other it’ll come out.”

“Oh God—next time you call me make sure it’s just a mundane referral.”

“Promise.”

“Multiple murders,” she said. “Okay, no promises, give me a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Lee.”

“Guess I should say, You’re welcome. ”

—

“A few minutes” turned to five, ten, fifteen. At eighteen I was ready to leave. As I got to my feet, the phone rang.

A woman’s voice, tremulous and high-pitched, said, “Dr. Delaware?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just you there?”

“Absolutely.”

“I hope that’s true.”

“It is.”

“I hope…okay, this isn’t going to take long and don’t try to trace this phone, it’s not mine. I am the person who saw what happened the night Vicki Saucedo was dumped. And you need to keep me out of it. Swear you will.”

“I’ll do my best but I can’t guarantee anonymity if the cops dig deep.”

“I’ll take my chances with the cops,” she said. “Because frankly they don’t seem very competent.”

Intake of breath. Long exhalation. “Okay. Here it is: I did not see the poor woman get discarded, just a car speeding through the parking lot, and that led me to look around for a problem. We get homeless and other problems in the lot after dark so I’m security-conscious. Carry pepper spray, try to be aware of my surroundings. The car was really going fast, I figured stupid kids joyriding, next time they could kill someone. So I tried to write down the license plate and managed to get five out of seven numbers. Then I found poor Vicki and dialed 911 and went to get the staff from the hospital. Culver City cops showed up and they had a really bad attitude. I literally had to push myself on them just to get their attention. Finally some guy in a uniform wrote down what I told him and made me feel stupid for not getting the make and model. Then he told me with incomplete plates, there was little they could do. Not exactly digging deep, huh?”

“Shameful,” I said. “Did you ever inform the family?”

“A few days later, I felt it was my duty,” she said. “Her parents were too upset and so was her sister. Just devastated. But her brother seemed approachable so I gave him the information.”

“How’d he take it?”

“What do you think? He was upset. Angry. But in a quiet way. He struck me as the quiet sort but who knows, it was hardly a normal situation.”

Click.

I tried the number. Blocked. Returned to Milo’s office.