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Authors: Marshall Karp

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BOOK: The Rabbit Factory
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A third video went up. "This is Signor Innocenti going _lhrough security at LAX that night. He took Lufthansa 451 to

Frankfurt, and by the time Elkins's body was discovered the next morning, he was back home eating pizza and drinking Chi anti. We don't have the manpower or the jurisdiction to smokihim out of whatever cave he's hiding in, and frankly, I don'l give a shit about him right now, because he's just a pair of hands for hire."

A female voice called out. "If Innocenti went back to Sicily after the Elkins murder, then someone else killed Ronnie Lucas. Correct?"

"Correct. The Lucas killer was eight inches taller than tin Elkins killer. One person who was on the breakfast line thai morning swears that the tall guy who talked to Lucas sounded Albanian. Now admittedly our eyewitness has been homeless for twelve years and is not as mentally stable as some of you folks..." He paused for the laugh and he got it. "But a few other people thought the suspect sounded Eastern European. Again, the doer is not who we're after."

"What about the Judy Kaiser murder?" Terry asked.

"That only happened a few days ago. But something jumped out on the surveillance tapes from the restaurant. A woman came in with two kids. They bought lunch, then sat in the back out of range of the cameras. About twenty minutes later we pick up the two kids leaving. But the Mom stayed behind. Then the Kaiser family comes in and Judy goes off camera toward the bathroom. Four minutes later we pick up the Mom leaving the restaurant. We track her to the train ride where she catches up with her kids."

"Was she in the bathroom with the vie?"

"Hard to tell," Church said, "but she was definitely in thai little alcove in the rear, so she must have seen Judy. She's either

mii innocent bystander or a soccer Mom who brought her kids li > Familyland, then murdered one of the other patrons to help >.iy for the trip."

He put up a shot of a striking, dark-haired, dark-eyed woman and two young boys. "Fortunately she also stayed at one of the Lamaar hotels, so there were cameras everywhere. Tliis was taken when they checked in. Her name is Penina Beniiinin and the kids are her two sons. She's an Israeli."

There was an audible "ah-ha" murmur from the room. Sort _ol a collective conclusion that if a beautiful young mother with vo kids is from Israel, she's more likely to be a trained comliutndo than an innocent bystander.

"Mrs. Benjamin and her kids flew to New York early 'Monday morning, spent the night, then flew El Al back to Israel I yesterday. We want to talk to her, but with all the bureaucratic nap that goes on between the U.S. and Israel, that's not going to be very high on anybody's list. More important than picking her up for questioning is that once we get a suspect who might have hired these killers, we'll see if his passport shows that he made a shopping trip to Israel, Italy, and Eastern Europe."

My cell phone vibrated. I checked the Caller ID and bolted lout of the room. I got to the corridor and answered on the fourth ring.

"Hi, it's Diana."

i "I know. You think I pick up for every beautiful, blue-eyed blonde who calls me in the middle of a multiple homicide investigation?"

"Oh, gosh," she said. "I caught you at a bad time."

"It's never a bad time when you call. How are you?"

"I'm fine, but Hugo has had a few rocky days. His fever is

' '-- 423 --

up, his blood count is down, and he's rejecting platelets. He'.s stable now, but... I'm sorry, I hate to ask you this when you're so busy." "Would it help if I came over and visited him?"

"Yes." She lowered her voice. "The sooner the better."

"I'll be there by 6:00."

"Thank you," she said, still whispering, making her sound both grateful and sexy at the same time. "You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it would make a big difference." We hung up, and I went back to the meeting. I still didn'l feel like saying much. But after thirty seconds on the phone with Diana, I felt a hell of a lot better than when I walked out.

424 --

I

CHAPTER 73

The meeting dragged on till 5:00. It took another two hours to go back to the office, follow up on phone calls and deal with Kilcullen. I didn't get to Valley General [titil 7:45. Diana was waiting at the sixth-floor nurses' station.

"I did the best I could," I said, "but you can never believe a Ś>p who says he'll meet you at a civilized hour. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You've already gone above and beyond. I didn't tell Hugo you were coming. He's going to be thrilled to et" you."

She took my arm and led me down the corridor. "I should Wiirn you. He's lost more weight and the meds have really taken iheir toll."

I nodded. I had seen Joanie in her final months. I knew what to expect.

Hugo was in bed, connected to a network of tubes and wires lhat snaked their way out of his body to a multi-limbed IV tree. A monitor hung from one of its metal arms and beeped efficiently. Also dangling from the pole were six plastic bags filled with high-tech potions that would either cure him or kill him.

A woman, whom I recognized as Hugo's mother from I lie Christmas in Sundance T-shirt, was sitting in a chair near lih bedside. She stood up and introduced herself. "I'm Nol.i Cordner. You must be Detective Lomax. Diana told me all aboul you. Hugo, look who came to visit. It's your hero."

Hugo looked smaller, paler, and much sicker. He contorted his face in a grimace. At first I thought he was in pain, but then I realized it was just typical teenage embarrassment. "Mom," lie said, stretching the word out into three syllables. "I never said hero. What am I, eight years old and he's Batman?"

He looked over in my direction, but my old LAPD basebull cap was pulled down low on his face, so I couldn't see his eyes. "I didn't say hero," he said.

"Well, even if you did," I said tapping on an IV bag filled willi Da-Glo yellow glop, "I'd just figure it was the drugs talking."

"Tell my Mom about the revenge of the flowers," he said, "It's the best story, but if I told it, she'd probably say I was making it up."

"Well, let's see," I said, turning to Nola. "I was about your son's age, and I had no thought about going into police work."

"He was going to be a stuntman, like his mother," Hugo said. "Well, she was a stuntwoman, but you know what I mean."

And so it went. I told the story, and Hugo would jump in with the details. After a few minutes, he asked Diana to help him sit up, and by the time I got to Donny Hovsepian's arrest, Hugo had transformed from an inert gray lump to an excited, animated child.

"That was a wonderful story," his mother said, her eyes wet to the brim, but not quite spilling over. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

At 8:30 Diana called a curfew. I took Hugo's hand. It was 11 ilil ;ind his grip was weak. "I don't want to hurt you like I did llii" last time," he said. "So you're getting the wimpy handuli.ikf." His eyes were drooping and he closed them as Diana

lowered the head of his bed. I said good night to his mother, Mini he was asleep before Diana and I left the room.

B We took the elevator down to the lobby. "Are you hungry?"

rhc said. "Starved." "What kind of food are you in the mood for?" she said.

I Whatever you have in your refrigerator, I thought. But I new better than to say it. My wife had passed away less than ven months ago. My brother was in deep shit, and my father needed my help digging him out. And my partner, my boss, and the Governor of California needed me to solve the crime of the Century. The last thing I needed at this point in my life was a Ścrious relationship with Diana Trantanella. Then she repeated I he question.

"Earth to Mike, I asked what kind of food you're in the

(lood for." "Whatever you have in your refrigerator," I heard myself say ut loud.

And then I felt her arms around my neck and her lips gently kissing mine. "Are you sure?" she said. "No," I said. "Maybe if you kissed me again."

She did. It was long and deep and went directly to every pleasure center in my body. "I'm sure," I said.

Twenty minutes later we were in her bedroom furiously peeling each other's clothes off. I'd have to call Big Jim in the morning and thank him for meddling in my life.

I

Di

iana and I made love, raided her refrigerator, made II 1 love again, watched Letterman up to the Top Ten List, and then, despite my advancing years and lack of

I sleep, managed to make love a third time. She was impressed. 1 was even more impressed.

"Don't get used to it," I said. "It's like a parlor trick. I never do it again for the same crowd."

"What about your dog?" she said, suddenly sitting up.

I "Andre can do it six times a night," I said. "But then he doesn't call you in the morning. The French can be so rude." She laughed. "I mean, don't you have to go home and walk him?"

"If I did, you and I would be in my bed right now, and Andre would be trying to wedge his way between us. My friend ŚKemp is dogsitting."

She turned over on one elbow and ran a pearly pink fingernail from my navel to my left nipple, which apparently was not Btoo tired to rise to the occasion. Then she worked her way --directly over my heart and slowly began stirring up a patch of

Marshall Karp

chest hair. "Did you plan that in advance because you thought you might not be going home tonight?"

"I've been putting in twenty-five-hour days lately," I said. "So it's not fair to leave Andre sitting around the house with his legs crossed."

"What crime are you trying to solve?"

There was such a delightful ingenuousness to the way she asked the question. Like, What color will you be painting the ceiling, Mr. Michelangelo?

"I'm not supposed to give you the details. You could be a security risk."

"You can frisk me if you want," she said, sliding her soft, warm body on top of mine and slowly kissing me on the eyes, the nose, and finally the lips.

I told her everything. I figured if Terry could tell Marilyn, which I knew for a fact he did, it would be only fair for me to have someone's ear. Although her ear wasn't what I focused on as I unfolded the gruesome details of the past eleven days Besides, what could the Department do to me if they found out I broke the rules while I was naked in bed with a beautiful blonde? If they drummed cops out of the corps for pillow talk, the city of Los Angeles would be totally without police protection.

I slept till dawn, then drove home to change. Kemp's truck was parked outside my house. He was in the living room with Andre, who bounded across the room and had his paws on my shoulders before I could close the door.i

"Good morning, Detective," Kemp said. "You look like you had a rough night keeping the peace."

"I was doing some serious undercover work. Thank you foi

J

-- 430 --

s

taking care of Andre. Did the LA. Times get delivered? It wasn't on the front step."

"I was reading it in the bathroom. I'll get it." He returned a minute later with the dog-eared sections in a bulky pile. "Sports section is a little wet," he said, "but it's only water."

The lead story was the Lamaar plane crash, which was sported as suspicious and under investigation. There was a picture of Amy and two of the other victims on Page One. I shuffled through the rest of the sections till I found the Classifieds.

Kemp was leaning over my shoulder. "Looking for a job?" v asked.

"No. I'm looking for a handyman who can mind his own business."

I I turned the pages till I got to the Personals. Kemp grinned, put didn't say anything. I ran my finger down the columns until I found it. The family of the late Buddy Longo thanks his friends and co-workers for their love and support during our time of rief

There was no turning back now. I crumpled the entire secilon into a ball and threw it across the room.

"I don't know what you're looking for in the Personals," temp said, "but I'll give you the same advice my father gave the. Even though I never paid much attention to it."

"Lay it on me. I need all the advice I can get."

Kemp bent down, began scratching Andre behind the ears, . looked up at me, and said, "If it's got tits or wheels, it's gonna jIvc you problems."

I

TT he Rose was a stubborn son of a bitch. Despite the fact that I I he had to be within arm's reach of a telephone so he could JL accept the ransom call, he refused to stay in one place. "I'm [not rescheduling my life," he said. "My phone can follow me wherever I am. I do it every day. Call Forwarding."

He had an early breakfast meeting at The Four Seasons with couple of investment bankers, stopped at his Burbank office "for an hour, then drove down to Familyland where he was hooting a promotional video for the park.

Terry and I were part of the entourage that followed him, which also included Garet Church, his partner Henry Collins, and a fourman electronic surveillance team, who had forwarded Ike's home, office, and cell phones to a single black handset.

When we got to Familyland, Ike and the Feds went to The Rainbow's End, the location where the video was being shot. Terry and I were politely asked to wait in Brian Curry's office till it was time for Ike to head to his next gig. "No sense in everybody cluttering up the same space," Agent Church told us.

"I wonder if he wants us to just sit here and do nothing," Terry said, when we got to Brian's office, "or if we should n< i fuck ourselves while we're waiting."

We speculated on what kind of person it took to mask-i mind a crime like this one. "Speaking of masterminds," Terry said, "it's been five days since Judy Kaiser was killed. Somebody smart is managing to keep it out of the papers."

"You remember Ike's assistant, Richard Villante?" Brian said, clearing his throat hard on assistant. "Ike was darn lucky to find an assistant who graduated top of his class at Yale Law. Richard has an uncanny ability for keeping things out of the news."

But no number of lawyers could keep the Lamaar plane crash out of the news. We flipped from CNN to MSNBC to Fox. None of them referred to it as an accident. The theories and hypotheses all focused around terrorism, although one so-called expert was convinced it was caused by a suicidal pilot.

BOOK: The Rabbit Factory
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