False Prophet (47 page)

Davida’s hand went to her throat.

“My son kept a gun in his office. And Albert… he… always packed. Made him feel like a hotshot, the little shit. Maybe Albert made demands on Kingston. And King did have a terrible temper. Things probably got out of hand. Probably they… pulled the guns on each other… like a bad western.”

“King’s office was ransacked, Davida,” Decker said.

“There was probably a terrible… struggle.” Again, she bit her thumbnail. “I don’t know what happened because I wasn’t inside. I left when I heard—”

She stopped herself. Decker said, “You left when you heard gunshots?”

The room was silent. The old woman slid down onto the divan. Pink robe against pink upholstery, she seemed to meld into the couch — a woman with dimension but no contrast. Like a bas-relief. But her voice still had control — not a waver or a whimper.

“Russ merely wanted to
talk
to Kingston, Sergeant.”

“Talk to him about what?”

“Kingston claimed he had the memoirs.”

“And you wanted them, didn’t you?” Decker said.

She was silent.

“Why?” Decker asked.

“None of your damn business.”

Decker said, “You asked Kingston to steal them—”

“I did not!” Davida seemed offended. “I
blurt
things out — things like ‘God, I wish I had those papers.’ It’s not my fault if my son loves me so much, he tries to grant me my every wish.”

Decker said, “So why’d he change his mind and keep the papers himself, Davida?”

“I don’t know. I tried calling him to ask him just that. He wouldn’t talk to me over the phone. And I wasn’t about to go into his office when he was butchering his fetuses. His
research
made me sick!”

“What’d you do with the gun you gave Donnally?”

Her eyes hardened. “What
gun
? I don’t own a gun. I told you Albert packed. Not me. I don’t have any guns. Your search will verify that.”

Meaning that if there were guns at the scene, she probably had Kelley and Eubie ditch them when they took Russ’s body. Yet… they swore they didn’t see any guns. Worry about that one later.

Decker said, “So King never did tell you
why
he changed his mind and decided to keep the memoirs?”

Davida fell silent.

“Know a woman named Greta Millstein, Davida?”

She snapped her head upward, then let out a peal of mirthless laughter. “My God, where did you dig up
that
senile kraut? She must be a hundred years old.”

“Nah, she’s not that old. Not much older than yourself, as a matter of fact.”

The hit was dead-center. Again, she threw her empty glass across the room, the tumbler smashing into pieces.

“That wrinkled old Nazi, just
what
kind of fairy tales did she tell you?”

Decker said, “Those memoirs must have posed a big problem for you, Davida. After all these years of trying to convince Freddy he was adopted… now he might learn his true biological heritage. And then of course, there was
Lilah
. Plus there were other things in those papers that you didn’t want coming out — other things you’ve done.”

Davida looked up, confused. “What
other
things?”

“Heidi Millstein’s murder.”

“Heidi’s mur — did that old bitch say I was responsible for her daughter’s death?” Davida began to pace. “Well, let me tell you something,
Sergeant
. It was Heidi’s choice to
fuck
my husband. It was Heidi’s choice to
drink
with my husband. And it was Heidi’s choice to
pop pills
while she was drinking and fucking with my husband.
My
husband, do you understand?
MY
husband! So if she made a series of stupid choices, I have no tears for the little tramp. I’m
glad
she died. And if Hermann with his overly sodden emotions has written it any other way, he’s not only a shithead, he’s a liar!”

Winded, she stopped walking and flopped onto her settee. “Pour me a drink, Peter.”

“Not part of my job description, Davida.”

“Do it for me anyway… please?”

Decker glanced at her face — old and defeated. He got up and poured her a finger’s worth of bourbon. Davida held the glass with shaking hands and swallowed quickly.

“Good old Freddy. He must despise me.”

She sounded sad. More self-pity than regret. Decker said, “Yes, I think he does.”

“I had to… to hide the truth. It would have resulted in too many questions.”

“Truth might have been simpler, Davida. Deception’s hard work.”

“I had my reasons.”

“Must have been good ones for you to go to all that trouble — keeping secrets and stealing papers. What would it have hurt to tell Freddy that he was Hermann’s son?”

The old woman stared at him, her eyes filled with tears. “It wasn’t Freddy. It was
Lilah
! I couldn’t have her learn the truth!”

Decker thought about Lilah, how she worshiped Hermann Brecht. How it might have destroyed her, if she learned that Brecht wasn’t her biological father. Maybe even an egocentric woman like Davida had seen that as well. Decker felt strong fingers grip his arms. Davida was shaking him.

“Don’t you
understand
, Peter? I would have done
anything
to prevent Lilah from…” The old woman closed her eyes, cheeks wet and shiny. “I couldn’t bear the thought of it!”

She lowered her chin onto her chest and sobbed openly.

Decker patted her shoulder. “You couldn’t bear the thought of
what
, Davida?”

“I couldn’t…” She looked up at him with puffy eyes. “I wouldn’t have been able… to look Lilah in the eye. Because… I’d know that every time… she looked at me… that she’d be thinking: There goes my
grandmother
.”

It would make
the five o’clock news. And talk about
images:
The captain himself personally escorting the great
grande dame
of the late-night one-checker, pushing her head down as she slid into the transport so she wouldn’t bump it on the cruiser’s ceiling. The black Mercedes that housed Davida’s silk-suited lawyer. For the crowd scene, there were young nubile wide-eyed things in bikinis, their color-coordinated lips forming smoke-ringed Os of surprise. The uniforms dispersed the gathering as the black-and-whites drove away. Hands in pocket, Decker watched without comment.

The reporters eventually gave up on him and went to Marge. She smiled at the cameras and offered a “Hi, Mom” as her sole statement. Eventually, the hordes moved on, the reporters packed up their camerapeople, and he and Margie were left alone to finish up their job of searching Davida’s bungalow.

Decker looked at his watch. The Sabbath was three hours away. What he should do was go home and take a long hot shower. What he was going to do was work until the last minute because they
still
didn’t have anything to take to the DA. The more Marge talked about the case, the more he realized that sad fact. Without the memoirs, they were hogtied. Merritt had probably stowed the papers in a good,
safe
place — a place they’d never locate.

“But Davida admitted being on the scene,” Marge said.

“She admitted being in the
car
,” Decker corrected. “That’s a far cry from being at the scene. If she paid Russ, I’m sure she did it in cash. Nothing exceptional went in and out of Donnally’s bank accounts. Who knows? Maybe Donnally did act on his own… trying to gain brownie points with his employer.”

“Like Kelley Ness,” Marge said. “Didn’t she swear she did it on her own?”

“Yep,” Decker said. “Claimed she found Russ by accident and was trying to protect the spa’s image. She refused to implicate anyone.”

“How could she do it on her
own
? Davida
had
to have
mentioned
something to her.”

Decker held out his arms and shrugged.

“God, that
pisses
me off,” Marge said. “Woman’s literally getting away with murder! We’re never gonna find the papers, Pete.”

“I know.” Decker paused. “Do you really think she paid Donnally to kill Merritt?”

Marge thought about that. “Maybe it was like Davida stated — that Merritt and Donnally did kill each other. But I’m not going to let this go until
I’m
convinced that the shooting was just another
stupid
accident by two hotheaded people. To be continued…”

Decker nodded. “Yeah, we’ll do some follow-up.”

“You bet we will….” Marge sighed. “Even though our caseloads are already bursting at the seams.”

“A cop’s work is never done.”

Marge smiled.

Decker said, “Morrison looked pretty good, don’t you think?”

“Not too bad considering he was swearing under his breath.”

“This kind of PR isn’t all bad — a famous woman being hauled in for questioning.” Decker shifted his feet. “The law is money-blind and all that rot. Too bad they won’t be able to hold her more than a couple of hours.”

“She’ll sue, Pete. False arrest.”

“She wasn’t arrested, just brought in for questioning—”

“Pete—”

“She can sue, but it won’t stick. No one’s going to bag her for anything because we don’t have enough evidence.” Decker turned to Marge and noticed she was holding a large book under her arm. “What do you have?”

“A high-school yearbook.” Marge flipped through the pages. “Ten years old. Kelley Ness was in tenth grade.”

“It’s Kelley’s?”

“Yeah, all the little inscriptions written on the cover are made out to her. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have thought a thing about it except it was hidden under a floorboard in Davida’s bedroom.”

“Really. Find anything else there?”

“Nope. So far as I can tell, there’s nothing unusual in the album. But the mere fact that Davida has it squirreled away must mean I missed something significant.” She handed it to Decker. “You try your luck.”

Decker took the yearbook and looked at the cover — Jackson High, Fountainville, California. A picture of Old Hickory in sepia tones.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Good idea,” Marge said. She closed the door and sat on a wingback. Decker sat on Davida’s pink settee and opened the album.

It’s been fun being in history with you. See ya next year. Have a rad summer — Heather
Don’t get all gnarly about geometry, Kell. You always were good with squares — Ryan

Gnarly. Ten years old.

More adolescent wisdom. Decker flipped another page — an inscription that took up half the space. This one seemed personal. Decker read silently, then began again out loud:

My dearest Kelley
,
I know this has been the most trying of trying times for you and for Mitchy too. But you have to remember that we all must do what we all must do. That drums beat differently for each and every individual and we must all go at our own pace. I will always be there for you. You know how much I care about you and we will always be friends no matter what people will say or do. And people do say and do nasty things. But this kind of thing only serves to makes us strong. Alone, we fall, together we can stand tall. There will always be jerks who try to bring you down. Don’t listen to them. Listen to your heart and know that I care about you and luv you with all my heart. I only want the best for you. You know that
.
Luv 4-ever,
Denise

“Denise?” Marge said. “Sure that doesn’t say Dennis, Pete?”

“No, it says Denise.” Decker showed her the page. “See. She even dotted her
i
with a little heart.”

Marge suddenly sat up. “You know, Pete. Not that it matters much, but maybe that’s the secret Kelley and Mike were trying to
hide
.”

“What secret?”

“Maybe Kelley’s a lesbian.”

Decker frowned. “I don’t see being gay as blackmail material in this day and age. And besides, Marge, I’ve seen my daughter’s album inscriptions. Cindy’s yearbook was full of mush — using words like
love
and
friendship
interchangeably. Denise was probably Kelley’s best friend.”

“Maybe it was friendship that turned to sex.”

“Doesn’t spell blackmail to me.”

“Then why does Davida have the yearbook, Pete?”

“I don’t know.”

He turned to the tenth-grade class pictures, found Kelley Ness’s small black-and-white. Hair cut very short, showing off dangling earrings. Hard to tell if she was wearing makeup. One thing she wasn’t wearing was a smile. The girl looked downright grim. Like old Denise had said, it must have been a hard year for Kelley.

Then he scanned the class for Denise. He found her easily, because underneath her picture was a tag line:
Luv from me. Denise Dillon
. Cute little thing. Short curly hair and dangling earrings. Decker flipped from her picture to Kelley’s. The earrings matched. He looked at Denise again. She was smiling — a broad, toothy smile.

Decker showed Marge the pictures. “Look, they’re wearing identical earrings.”

“I’m telling you, that’s the hold Davida has over Kelley,” Marge said. “
That’s
why Kelley was willing to remove the bodies for her. And that’s why Kelley isn’t implicating Davida. She didn’t want it getting out that she was a lesbian! Pete, we
can
use Kelley to get to Davida!”

Decker shut the book and drummed his fingers. “You know what’s bothering me? Kelley doing dirty work for Davida when Mike was around. Marge, he’s very protective of his sister. I have a feeling he watches her like a hawk. I don’t think he’d permit Kelley to move a body for Davida when he could have done it himself.”

“I’m not following.”

“I’m not making myself real clear.” Decker paused a moment. “Suppose Davida had something on Kelley.”

“She was a lesbian.”

“Whatever. Suppose Davida told Kelley she knew her dirty secrets. First thing Kelley would do would be what? Tell her brother, right?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Not maybe.
Definitely!
Now Ness is a punk, but look at the way he acted when he found out Eubie was getting it on with his sister. He charged Eubie. I see Mike as being a little white knight, walking up to Davida and saying, ‘You want your shit done, lady, don’t go to my
sister
, you go to
me
….’” Decker wagged his finger in the air. “Wait a minute, I just remembered something. I’m trying to think of the exact words. I think they were:
You got my sister involved, you fuckhead!
”