The Rabbit Factory (47 page)

I knew where Terry's head was. He'd be thrilled to have it

The Rabbit Factory

day with his wife and kids. He looked at me and shrugged. "Your call, Mike."

"It sounds good, but don't you think Kilcullen would be happier if we came in?"

"Tell Lieutenant Kilcullen that I pulled rank on him," Church said. "Shut up and take the fucking day off."

"Thanks," I said. "We accept."

Terry dragged me out of the office before I could change my mind.

1

It was 2:15, and I was regretting the Jalapeno roll-ups I had for lunch, when Muller called. He's the Master of Understatement, so when he said, 'I think maybe I got something,' I knew he didn't mean maybe, and it would be a lot moYe than something.

Ś; "I've been working with the Federales," Muller said. "Nice folks. This one guy went to MIT and he contributes open source code for Mozilla..."

Hi

jit "Muller, I'm glad you made friends," I said. "But can we jump to the part where you got something. What is it you got?"

"Credit card records. Your three boys went on a spending spree. Sicily, Israel, Ireland, and a few other places where one might shop for saboteurs and other freelance hooligans."

"And it was right there on their credit cards for anyone to see?"

' "Not anyone. The Feds didn't catch it. Even the Alpha Geek was impressed when I figured it out."

"How fast can you get over here and brief us?"

"I thought you might say that. I'm in the lobby."

Five minutes later Terry and I, Church and Collins, and halt a dozen other agents were seated at a conference table, pens poised, waiting for the details.

Muller stood at the front of the room. He looked like a high school kid who still hadn't started shaving yet, and a few of Church's guys smirked. But as soon as he started talking, the

IIgrins disappeared.

"We started out looking for unusual credit card activity," Muller said. "Big bumps that would indicate they took a trip to hire these killers. Nothing. Then it dawned on me. Maybe we should be looking for unusual inactivity."

Terry winked at me. LAPD Pride.

Muller went on. "These guys use their credit cards a lot. Expensive restaurants, travel, clothes, jewelry--Kennedy shops regularly in one jewelry store on Rodeo Drive--and Barber can easily spend twenty, thirty grand a month on rare books. Two years ago, for twenty-four days straight--middle of August till early September--none of those guys used a single credit card."

Church raised his hand, but didn't wait to be called on. "So they all had a zero balance bill?"

"It wasn't that obvious, sir," Muller said. "They all have automatic credit card charges, like club dues, that show up on their bill every month. Also the twenty-four days were spread across two billing cycles, so their August and September bills had charges. But the totals for those two months were a lot less than usual. I'd let that slide with one guy, but not all three of them. So I analyzed their day-to-day spending. Turns out none of them used a single credit card for twenty-four days."

"What does that prove?" Church said.

"Nothing yet. So I went to the credit card companies and

asked them to look for three different cards, all Southern California based, that ran up a hefty bill during those twenty-four days, but charged nothing before and nothing since."I

"I'm liking this," Church said.

"The Small Business Division of American Express opened a new account for a company called Drum Roll Productions. It's not uncommon in the movie business for a production manager to set up a separate charge account for each project. That way he can track which expenses get charged to which film. It's also not uncommon for a producer to run up huge bills during a short period of time, wrap the production, and never use that card again.

"Three cards were issued to officers of the new company, Curvin O'Connor, Maxwell Harper, and Kurt Schmidt. The billing address for all three is the same: a Mail Express in Ojai, California."

"Kid," Church said, "you have a future in police work. What got charged on the cards?"

"Airfare, hotels, restaurants, car rentals, just your basic travel expenses."

"Are you sure they didn't do anything a little more incriminating?" Terry said. "Like walk into Murder For Hire and order half a dozen assassins to go. Because then we could wrap this jUp in no time."

"It's not what they charged," Muller said. "It's where they charged it. Haifa, Belfast, Athens, Palermo--place for place their itinerary matches up with what we know about the actual killers."

"Why do you think they left a paper trail?" Church said. "Wouldn't it have been easier to pay cash?"

-- 547 --

Muller's eyes twinkled. Like he was waiting for that question. "I don't know, sir," he said. "If you were interviewing people who commit cold-blooded murder for money, how much cash would you carry?"

Everyone laughed, including Church. "Excellent, Mr. Muller. Since you're way ahead of me, have you thought about how we can prove that the men who made those charges are actually Kennedy, Barber, and Lebrecht?"

"Yes sir. Once they had the credit cards, they kept building their new identities. Eventually they took their phony credentials to the passport office, and a week later they've got genuine U.S. passports, all with fake names. The only problem is, they can't fake their faces. The pictures have to look like them.

"So now all we have to do is call the State Department, give them the bogus names and ask for copies of their passport photos. If O'Connor, Harper, and Schmidt look like Kennedy, Barber, and Lebrecht, you won't have any trouble getting a fed eral prosecutor to sign a warrant."

"Day off or no day off," I said, "if we're making an arrest, Terry and I want to be there."

"Relax," Church said. "I won't let you guys miss out on any of the fun. First we have to contact State."

"I already did, sir," Muller said. "I figured we should get tlic process moving. You know how slow the federal government can be."

Church cracked a smile. "Yeah, thanks, kid. I heard."

I have a fifties CD and I played Paul Anka singing Diana six times on my way home from the office. I took a twenty minute power nap, showered, touched up my morning shave, and spent more than the usual thirty seconds brushing my hair.

I tried not to overthink my wardrobe, but I went through I three different combinations before I settled on a my most comf; fortable pair of gray slacks from Nordstrom, my Ralph Lauren blue-and-white tattersall shirt, and my predictable navy blazer. I was only running ten minutes late when I left the house.

I stopped at the Sav-on drugstore on Rodeo Drive and bought a dozen condoms for me and a gift for Diana. I got to I her apartment building on Wilshire and the doorman announced me. I took the elevator to the fourteenth floor and she was standing in the doorway of her apartment waiting for me.

I had only seen her in pinks and pastels, and tonight she was wearing black. She looked stunning. The dress was open at the neckline and tied at the waist. "You should wear black more often," I said. "You look incredible."

She kissed me hello, but it wasn't enough for either of us She pulled me inside the apartment, and we threw our arras around one another and kissed passionately. Slowly it settled into one of those tender, enduring, movie kisses, two lovers reunited after four long years of war.

"This is only our third date," she said, when we finally came1 up for air. "At the risk of scaring you away I have something to tell you. I missed you."

"It would only scare me if you said you didn't. I brought you a present." I held out the little white plastic bag with the drug store logo on it.

"Condoms?" she said.

"Actually I bought some of those for myself," I said, and tapped the box in my jacket pocket. "But I'd be delighted to share them with you. This is a real gift. And don't be fooled by appearances. This isn't from just any Sav-on. It's from the one on Rodeo Drive."

She reached into the bag. "A Snoopy wrist watch," she said. "What's the occasion? Have I been late for things?"

"No."

"Let me try it on," she said, unstrapping the Rambunctious Rabbit watch from her left hand.

And then she let out a little gasp. She understood.

"I may be overprotective," I said, "but in my head the fad 'that you're wearing a Lamaar character watch makes you a

Itarget. Nobody seems to have it in for Snoopy, so I'd feel a lot

better if you wore him."„

She sat down on the sofa. Her eyes welled up and several 'tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. "I'm sorry if I upset

you," I said.

I

"I am not upset," she said, sniffling. "It's just been a long

time since anybody cared about me like this. Thank you." P A long-haired white cat hopped up on her lap. She stroked it behind the ears.

"This is Blanche," she said. "You didn't meet her last time because I locked the bedroom door." Diana lifted the cat off her lap and plopped it down on the floor. Wispy white strands of cat hair clung to the dress. "She's the reason I hardly ever wear black."

We drove to a Japanese restaurant on West Third that wasn't trendy enough to attract the noisy Saturday night date crowd. By mutual agreement we talked about anything and everything but the Lamaar case.

Two hours later Blanche was locked out of the bedroom again.

I don't know how many women I've slept with in my life. Enough so that I have a basis of comparison. Not counting Joanie, sex with Diana was as emotional an experience as any I've ever had.

She let her dress fall to the floor, then stood there waiting for me to remove the black bra and panties, looking like the fantasy of every man who ever lusted over a Victoria's Secret catalogue.

When I was nineteen and trying to hump everything in vSight, I remember thinking, Why do they call it making love? It's fucking.

With Diana I made love, as slowly and tenderly as I possibly could, considering that my hormones were popping like bottle rockets.

We woke up in a spoon position, her back to my front. I

cupped a breast in one hand and began nuzzling the back of her neck. Within seconds we were both breathing heavily and in rhythm. "Come in me," she said. I started to roll over to the night table to get a condom and she said, "No. I don't have a disease and I won't get pregnant and I want to feel you inside of me. Please."

She didn't have to say please. I slipped easily into her and my brain exploded. I know that condoms make sense. I know they prevent disease, help avoid pregnancy, and, if more people used them, the planet would be a healthier, safer place. But there is no feeling in the world like the first time you enter a woman you're falling in love with and you're skin to skin the way God intended.

I came in less than a minute, and Diana was only seconds behind me. Her body continued to heave and shake and I realized that her orgasm had subsided but she was sobbing. I rolled over and kissed her lips and gently licked her tears. I didn't want to say, "What's the matter," because I know it's a Dumb Man Question. So I just tilted my head a little like a curious puppy who wonders what's going on.

She understood the question. "I never thought I could be this happy again," she said, still teary.

I let the annoying little voice inside my head go through all of its mental gymnastics. "Should I respond? Should I say what I feel? If I do will she believe me? Is it too soon? Does it sound like a commitment? Am I sure?"j

Finally, the questions stopped and the voice said, "Then1 will never be another moment quite like this."

I pressed my lips gently against Diana's ear. "Me either," I whispered.

was in the middle of a blissful steaming shower when Diana

tapped on the frosted glass door. "The doorman just rang

up. Your father is downstairs in the lobby."

"He's delivering a package to me, but he's an hour early." ' "That's okay, he can have breakfast with us. I'll tell him to come up."

"Wait," I said. "Have the doorman show him where my car is. There's a silver attache case in the trunk. Tell Jim to bring it up here."

I stood under the pounding hot water for another ten minutes. By the time I got dressed Jim was sitting in the living room, the aluminum attache at his feet, Frankie's ratty black duffel on his lap.

"Good morning," he said. "I'm Secret Agent Lomax." He patted the bag. "The hot cross buns are in the oven."

"Transfer your fucking buns to the other oven, while I explain to Diana that this is not something I do with my crazy father every Sunday morning."

He opened the duffel and dumped the money on the floor.

Ś

"I already explained. She looked trustworthy."

Diana smiled. "He gave me top secret clearance." Ś

"They had a videotape of Ike Rose on the news this morning," Jim said, as he neatly stacked a chunk of his life savings into Joey the Cap's briefcase. "He took off for parts unknown with hundreds of Lamaar execs and their families. Trying to keep them safe."

"I knew that was happening," I said. "But what did he say on the videotape?"7

"Sort of a big 'fuck you' to whoever's behind this. You can 7 intimidate us; this shit just makes us stronger; we'll run the company from a secret location until the cops bring you to justice; no matter what you do, we'll rebuild. Even if the terrorists weren't watching, it's a good message to put out to the public. Maybe convince investors not to dump their Lamaar stock."

Jim put the last of the bills in the case and snapped it shut. He still had something in his lap and he held it up. "Speaking of videotapes, where did you get these tapes of Deanic's Farewell?"

"It was in the middle of a fucking pile witr jumper cables, and a broken umbrella. How the

"Do you have any concept of personal boundaries?" I said. "I was looking at them for the Lamaar investigation. The woman who gave them to me was killed before I could return them, and they've been sitting in the trunk of my car until you decided it was perfectly okay for you to help yourself."

. old sneakers, hell am I supposed to know it's Important Police Evidence?"