Flipping Out (26 page)

'Does your
girlfriend know?' Terry said.

'That's low,
Biggs.'

'Charlie, you
were with another woman the night your wife was killed. We have a right to
ask.'

'No you don't,'
he said. 'You
had
a right to ask, before you had the killer. But now, who I was with that night
is none of your business. The case is closed.'

'The case is not
officially closed,' Terry said. 'It's being reviewed by the DA's office. What
if they call and say, "Charlie Knoll had a motive. Maybe he paid Martin
Sorensen to kill Julia and Nora.'"

'And Jo? And
Marisol?' Charlie laughed loud and long. It took a good fifteen seconds till it
petered out to a chuckle.

'What's so
funny?' Terry said.

'You're supposed
to be half of the hotshot homicide team, and you're asking dumb questions that
make you sound like a rookie. Let me ask you a question, Biggs. If you were
going to kill your wife and all of her partners, would you hire Martin
Sorensen? He was a cocky son of a bitch who thought he was better than everyone
he associated with, and once he started drinking, you'd have to worry that he'd
try to impress people by telling them he was a gun for hire. So if the DA's
office calls, just tell them that Detective Knoll might be stupid enough to
kill his wife for the money he already had, but he's not that dumb that he
would hire Martin Sorensen to help him.'

'I think we've
had enough questions,' I said.

'Good, because I
didn't really come back to turn myself in,' he said. 'I'm here to clean out my
desk.'

'You a hundred
percent sure you want to quit?' I said.

'No. Did you know
what you wanted five days after Joanie died?' he said. 'The only thing I'm sure
of right now is that Nora's and Julia's funerals are on Thursday. That's about
as far ahead as I can plan.'

'We'll be
there,' I said.

'Don't come as
cops,' he said, his voice cracking with emotion. 'Come as friends.'

Around five
o'clock Muller stopped by my desk. 'I'm going to catch an early movie,' he
said, holding one of Gaffney's DVDs in his hand.

'
Is
it any good?' I said.

'A lot of it is boring,
but there's one part that is definitely worth the price of admission. Would you
and your friend Detective Biggs care to join me?'

'Where?' I said.

He looked around
the squad room. 'Anywhere but here. Do you have a DVD player over at your
place?'

'I don't even
have a place,' I reminded him.

We decided that
Muller would follow us to Terry's house, so we could watch Gaffney McDonough's
video without anybody watching us. We were crawling along on the Ventura
Freeway when Big Jim called my cell.

'Mike, I've got
good news,' he said. 'You officially have a roof over your head.'

'And how do you
come to know this?' I said.

'Kemp and I just
finished.'

'Kemp and
you?'
I said. 'Dad,
what the hell were you doing on my roof?'

'If that's a
crack about my weight,' he said, 'I don't think it's particularly funny.'

'It's not a
crack about your weight. It's a crack about your meddling. What are you doing
helping Kemp?'

'I had some free
time.'

I could feel my
blood pressure rising.

'For your
information,' he said, 'I didn't climb on the roof. I hauled a lot of the
roofing material for him. Saved him hours. Then I got my buddy Pete to come
over.'

'Who the hell is
Pete?'

'You know Pete
Estes. He and his wife Karen sometimes go bowling with me and Angel. Pete's an
excavator, so I got him to bring over his Kubota.'

'His what?'

'His Kubota.
It's a skid steer, you know, like a tractor. I can't believe I've been in the
transportation business all my life, and I have a son who has no idea what a
Kubota is.'

'Well, I can't believe
I've been in law enforcement all my life, and I have a father who has no idea
what a boundary is. Dad, why did you get involved?'

'Because the
renovation has been going slow, because you and Diana want to move in, and
because I'm the kind of father who thought his son might appreciate a little
help.'

'Dad, I do
appreciate it—'

'Don't mention
it,' he said. 'That's what fathers are for.'

'Let me finish.
I appreciate it, but in the future—'

He cut me off.
'You don't have to finish. I get it, I get it. Your father tries to help you
out, lend you a hand, and it pisses you off. No good deed shall go unpunished,
right, Michael?'

'Dad, it's not a
good deed if you get involved in my life without an invitation. When I want
your help, I'll ask.'

'No you won't,'
he said.

'What is that
supposed to mean?'

'I know you.
You're proud, just like your mother. You don't like asking for help. And me, I
don't like sitting around waiting to be asked. That's why when I found those
two dead women the other night, I called you straight out. I didn't wait for an
invitation.'

'You're
comparing apples and—'

'OK, OK. Spare
me the lecture. I just want you to know that Pete cleaned up all the rubble in
the backyard, and we took it to the dump. Why don't you tell Diana? I'm sure at
least she'll have a little gratitude.'

'I'm sure she
will,' I said.

'Do you want
Pete Estes's phone number?' he said.

'What for?'

'To thank him.
He did the work as a friend. No charge.'

'Dad, I'm busy.
Thank him for me.'

'Now you're
talking. I'd be glad to thank Pete for you. You see how easy it is to ask me
for a favour? Call me if you need anything else.'

He hung up.

I looked at
Terry, who was grinning. 'That was my father,' I said.

'I could tell,' he
said. 'But if I hadn't heard you call him Dad, I'd swear you were back on
speaking terms with the contractor from hell.'

The house was
quiet. Emily and Sarah were both in their rooms, Diana was working late, and
Marilyn was out shopping for something to wear to Nora's and Julia's funeral.

'Don't ask me
why she won't wear the same black dress she wore last week to Jo's funeral,'
Terry said. 'She shops like she's going to a prom.'

Muller brought a
laptop, and we locked ourselves in Terry's office with a bag of chips and a
six-pack.

'Before we get
started, I'd like to propose a toast,' Terry said, raising a beer can. 'We've
bent a few rules in our day, but this is a new plateau, even for us. Here's to
exploring uncharted waters, and not getting caught.'

The three of us
drank to operating outside the department's authority.

'What we have
here,' Muller said, holding up the DVDs McDonough had given us, 'is two weeks
in the relatively uneventful personal life of Tony Dominguez. McDonough tailed
him mostly nights and weekends, and it's basically a snore. Except for this.'

He put one of
the DVDs in the computer and jumped to the chapter he wanted. 'You ever been to
the Roadium?'

'I was raised in
the Bronx,' Terry said. 'We didn't have too many cowboys.'

'Roadiwra,'
Muller said, it's a monstrous open-air market on Redondo Beach Boulevard in
Torrance. They've got hundreds and hundreds of merchants, spread out over God
knows how many acres.'

'I've never been
there either,' I said. 'What do they sell?'

'Food, clothes,
electronics, hardware, everything, and anything,' he said, if you've got crap
to sell, they rent you a booth, and presto, you're in retail.'

'It sounds like
Wal-Mart without the charm,' Terry said.

'Not the kind of
place Tony would go to,' I said.

'And yet,'
Muller said, 'this is where Detective Dominguez's life gets real interesting.'

He hit play and
there was a very clear image of Tony wearing jeans, an unbuttoned flannel shirt
over a black T-shirt, and a Dodgers baseball cap. The camera followed him as he
wandered aimlessly from one booth to another.

'He's not
shopping,' Terry said. 'He's blending in.'

'And he's
checking to see if anyone is watching him,' Muller said.

'McDonough is
damn good,' I said. 'Tony has no idea he's being taped.'

'Neither did
you,' Muller said. 'One of the other DVDs has footage of Tony and you guys on
Reggie's boat. OK, pay attention to what's coming up.'

We watched Tony
stroll from one booth to the other.

'He's not even
pretending to check out the merchandise,' Terry said. 'He's only looking up at
the booth numbers. B-5, B-6, B-7.'

Tony weaved
through the crowd a little faster. And then he stopped.

'B-14,' I said.

Terry raised his
hand. 'Bingo.'

The booth was
cluttered with racks and tables filled with CDs, tapes, and albums. Tony went
to a bin, pretended to browse, then pulled out a CD. He took it to the vendor,
and reached in his pocket to pay for it.

Muller froze the
image on the screen. 'Check it out,' he said.

Tony was handing
the vendor a thick white envelope.

'A lot of places
don't take American Express,' Terry said.

Muller released
the pause button, and the vendor deftly took the envelope and stuffed it in his
pocket. He put the CD in a bag, handed it to Tony, and walked out of frame. The
camera panned to the right and caught up with the vendor as he approached a
large grey van parked just outside the booth. He knocked on the side door. It
slid open, and a young man cautiously stepped out.

'Freeze it
again,' I said.

He did, and we
studied the two men. They were both
Mexican. The vendor was so out of shape, he could have been
anywhere between forty and sixty. His face was covered with a week's worth of
grey stubble, and his body was evidence of a lifetime's worth of bad eating
habits. The other guy was in his mid-twenties, wiry build, dark skin, dark
hair, and dark eyes that telegraphed fear. He had a knapsack on his back and a
snake tattoo on his right arm.

'If you're interested,
that's Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent,' Muller said. 'He's some kind of an
Aztec god.'

'That's good to
know if we ever go out looking for the snake,' Terry said. 'Who's the kid?'

'Don't know,'
Muller said. 'Let me grab a screen shot.'

'Grab a few,' I
said, including the guy who took the payoff.'

Muller captured
the images, then hit
play.
Tony and the young Mexican exchanged a few words, then they started walking.

'Watch this,'
Muller said.

Tony walked
casually through the flea market, with the kid just behind him. They were heel
to toe, pretending not to be together. At one point they passed a trash can,
and Tony tossed the bag with the CD in the garbage.

'I guess he's
not that into music after all,' Terry said.

'This picture is
crystal clear,' I said. 'Why don't they have surveillance cameras this good at
7-Eleven?'

'Or the women's
dressing rooms at Nordstrom,' Terry said.

'McDonough is
working with a top-of-the-line digital camera,' Muller said. 'Based on the
angle, I'm guessing it's at about six feet, maybe inside a baseball cap.'