Last Man's Head (23 page)

FIFTY

Quinn slid a
beer over to Leroy’s side of the table. A few hours earlier, after they had come to their conclusion about Domingo’s killers, they agreed their next steps.

‘Look,’ Leroy said. ‘We need to keep this between ourselves. I certainly didn’t shoot them, and neither did you, so I guess for now we can only trust each other. What time do you have to be back at the station house?’

Quinn checked his watch. ‘As soon as, I guess. Before I’m missed. You want to meet up in Martha’s after the shift finishes?’

‘Best not there; you never know who’ll see us. Do you know The Daily Pint? It’s on Pico.’

‘Yeah, I know it. See you there about six?’

‘Fine. There’s one more thing.’ He gave
Quinn a slip of paper. ‘Could you get these licence numbers checked out? They’re off the cars I found at
Whiteleaf
last night.’

‘Last night?’
Quinn frowned and looked at the numbers on the paper.

‘Long story. Fill you in later. I’m particularly interested in those two there.’ He tapped the paper with his finger.

‘DC plates?’

‘You got that right.’

*****

When they met up later, the first thing
Quinn did was slide the list of numbers over to his partner. Leroy read the notes Quinn had made.

‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘I damn well knew it.’

‘Knew what? Obviously I know who George Davison is, although I’ve no idea why his car is parked outside a house in LA, but who’s Dwight G Mason?’

‘Let me tell you the whole story,’ said Leroy. He sat back, and related the whole sequence of events, right from the
Quinn’s wedding night.

Quinn
sat back, and listened, occasionally softly whistling at what Leroy was saying. When Leroy had finished, Quinn asked, ‘So you think Davison and Mason are involved?’

‘To be honest, I can’t say for
Davison. I’ve no evidence of him being involved at all. I’ve never even seen him. Just because he owns the place, it’s not evidence that he’s personally involved. As for Mason…’

‘Who is the guy, anyway? And why do you think he’s involved? And involved in what, anyway?’

‘Dwight Mason is Secretary Davison’s private counsel, and is the most obsequious, smarmy, condescending bastard I’ve ever met.’

‘You’re not a fan, then?’ asked
Quinn, deadpan.

‘No, absolutely. Apart from him lying to us when Domingo and I went to the house, I saw him there the other night. He was kind of hosting things.’

‘Hm. But hosting what?’

‘Don’t know for sure, but we’re talking hookers and drugs; so go figure.’

‘What are you going to do tomorrow, then? I’d better stay at my desk; don’t want to arouse any suspicions.’

‘Not sure. I might go over to the house in daylight, see if I can see anybody going in or out. Then there’s those other names on this list. I think I’ll pay them a call, see what I can get from them.’

‘Be careful, Sam. Remember you’re on vacation.’

‘I will. As the lieutenant told me, I’m just a private citizen right now. But I might be able to bullshit something out of them. If they’re men with families, I might be able to…you know.’

‘Hm,’ Quinn said again. ‘Well, if you need anything, let me know. And keep me in the loop, won’t you?’ He emptied his glass. ‘Another?’ he asked.

‘Sure, go ahead.’ Leroy studied the list again while
Quinn went to the bar. He frowned: apart from Davison and Mason, the names meant nothing to him.

Shortly,
Quinn returned. He passed Leroy his beer and sat down. ‘So,’ he said, sipping from his own glass, ‘anything you want to tell me?’

Leroy frowned. ‘Say what?’

‘There’s talk around the station house that you’ve gotten yourself a lady friend.’ Quinn grinned slightly as he spoke.

‘Oh, is there?’ Leroy took another mouthful of beer. ‘Come on then. Out with it,’
Quinn persisted.

Leroy shook his head as if in exasperation and took another sip. ‘Nothing to tell, really. For once, the gossip’s right. I’ve only known her a short while, couple of weeks, maybe less.’

‘What’s her name? How’d you guys meet?’

‘Her name’s Julia. Julia Moore. She’s a school teacher.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘That’s right. For young kids. Fourth graders, she said. She works somewhere in
Culver City. Did tell me the name of the school, but…’

‘So, tell me how you met. Where’s she from?’

‘San Fran originally, but she has an apartment in Venice. Not far from me, as it happens.’

Quinn
took some more beer. ‘Go on.’

‘I’d just gotten home one night. It was quite late – about eleven, I think. Had just parked outside my place when I heard some screaming coming from a few blocks away, from the direction of the ocean.’

‘Still night, then?’

‘It was. Anyhow, I ran in the direction of the commotion, and found her in the process of being mugged. Two guys. I cuffed them and called for a patrol car. She told me she didn’t live far, so I walked her home.’

‘Very gallant, Detective Leroy.’

‘Just as well I did. She passed out just as we got to her building. I saw her indoors, then left. Next morning, she called me to say thanks and invited me round to dinner. Her way of showing her appreciation, I guess.’

‘And how much appreciation did she show?’

‘Nothing like that. I was only there for a couple of hours.’

‘No breakfast, then?’ Quinn smirked.

Leroy turned to his beer. ‘Shit, that was what Domingo used to say.’

‘Jeez. Sorry, Sam. I had no idea.’

Leroy shook his head, took some more beer, and continued. ‘She’s a vegetarian, so what we had wasn’t what I’m used to. She served hot baked vegetarian chimichangas.’

‘Burritos, I like, but not sure about vegetarian. What was in it?’

Leroy shrugged. ‘She said it contained mushrooms, chillies, refried beans.’

Quinn pulled a face.

‘No,’ said Leroy. ‘It was okay.’ He laughed. ‘Surprisingly enough. Cheesecake afterwards.’

‘That’s the only time you’ve seen her?’

‘Couple of times since.’

‘You guys…?’ Quinn raised his eyebrows.

‘The day Domingo and Connor were killed. We had already arranged to meet up; this time go out for a meal, maybe a movie at the AMC or something. I said I would pick her up. When I did, we started chatting some more at her apartment. I don’t know,
Ray – it was one of those nights when I didn’t want to be alone…’

Quinn
nodded. ‘You seeing her again, I guess?’

‘Sure.  Maybe later tonight. Will certainly speak to her. But definitely next weekend. We’re planning on going away somewhere for Saturday night. Catalina, maybe.’

His partner nodded again. ‘Should be good.  Better than mine.’

‘Oh? How so?’

‘Holly wants us to spend the weekend at the Meriwether family residence. Her old man’s birthday.’

Leroy laughed and raised his glass. ‘I’ll take Catalina.’

FIFTY-ONE

On his way
home, Leroy made a detour to Julia’s apartment.

‘My God, Sam,’ she said. ‘You look like shit. What’s going on?’

‘Nice to see you, too.’ Leroy kissed her on the cheek and slid past her into her apartment. He passed a mirror and stopped to check his reflection. She was right. He thought that by having a really close shave a few hours earlier, the effects of many hours’ sleep deprivation would not show. He was wrong. He had the beginnings of shadow on his chin, but he looked pale, and he looked dark around the eyes.  ‘Hm,’ he said. ‘See what you mean.’

‘Sorry, baby; that wasn’t a very nice greeting.’ She embraced him and they kissed again, this time on the lips. ‘Anything I can do?’ she asked, as their mouths parted.

He looked around her apartment. The floor, the table, and the sofa were covered with dozens of sheets of paper, neatly arranged in piles, each pile a different colour. He was certain if he sneezed, or if there was a sudden gust of wind, the place would be in complete disarray.

‘It looks like your hands are full already,’ he replied.

‘Test papers,’ Julia explained. ‘Each year has a different colour. As I think I told you already, a teacher’s day doesn’t finish when the kids go home.’

‘Yes, I think you mentioned that,’ said Leroy, not without irony.

‘I could use a break,’ said Julia. ‘You want a coffee?’

‘Wouldn’t say no. Want me to get it?’

‘You sit your ass down, Detective. I’ll get it.’

He found a space between a pile of buff paper and salmon paper and sat down.

‘You eaten yet?’ Julia called out from the kitchen.

‘Yes, I have, thanks.’

Julia joined him shortly, passing him his coffee. She sat down cross-legged on the floor with her cup, then opened a bag of potato chips.

‘You have to do this sort of thing every night?’ he asked, indicating to the numerous coloured piles.

She shook her head. ‘This is a one off. These are all the test papers for each year, and going back five years. So thirty sets of test papers. They were in a mess at school, you know – not filed in any order, that sort of thing, so I said I’d get them sorted out. Prefer to do it here than stay late at work.’

Leroy sipped some coffee and closed his eyes. He had to make an effort to open them again.

‘You look bushed,’ she said. ‘So what’s going on? I assume something’s up at work. You got my messages, then.’

‘Yeah, yeah I did.’ He then related to her about his vacation time, the visit to
Whiteleaf
, and his meeting with Quinn.

‘
My God, Sam; so you were up all night?’

‘More or less, yes.’

‘So you think that the Secretary is involved?’

‘Somehow, yes.’

‘You said that your boss told you that those cases had been considered closed at the highest level, or something?’

‘Er – yeah, he said something like that. What are you getting at?’

‘Well, if you’re right and he is involved, then maybe he could have influenced that decision. You said there was enough evidence to proceed with the cases.’

Leroy rubbed his eyes and suppressed a yawn. ‘I guess that’s possible; I hadn’t really considered that. What I don’t get about
Davison, though, is: he comes from Arizona - Flagstaff - and began his political career there. Then moved to DC when higher office beckoned.’

Julia nodded, sipping her coffee.

‘So I’ve been trying to figure out the LA connection. Why would a guy who’s spent all his life in Arizona or Washington either own or lease a house over here? It’s not like it’s by the beach or anything.’

Julia frowned in thought. ‘I think there’s a family connection.’

‘No, it’s not that. His parents are both probably dead by now, and he was an only child.’

‘I’m not sure about that,’ said Julia. ‘Couple of years back, the kids in the 8
th
grade I think it was had to research and prepare a paper on major government figures. You know, the guys who run our country, that sort of thing.’ She looked around the apartment. ‘I don’t think I have a copy here.  But I’m sure that they said that he had relatives here.’

‘What sort of relatives?’

She shook her head. ‘Can’t remember. Sorry. In any case, why do you think he was an only child?’

He laughed. ‘The other morning, I went to the library and googled him.’

Julia nodded her head, smiling.  ‘Sam, when I was at college, one of our professors said that information technology and the internet are wonderful tools, but beware of the temptation to confuse proper research with google. Just because something’s on the internet, it doesn’t mean it’s true.’

‘Yes, I know that. So there might be a connection after all. I’ll check it out in the morning.’ He yawned and rubbed his eyes again.

‘Is your car out front?’ she asked.

‘Yes, why?’

‘Then leave it there. There’s no way you can drive in the state you’re in.’

‘I’ll be okay. It’s only -’

‘A short drive, but if that was me sitting there half asleep, would you let me drive home?’

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. ‘No.’

‘Then go in there are get some sleep. I won’t disturb you.’

He sighed. ‘Okay, I’ll go quietly.’  He laboriously got up off the sofa and stepped over the stacks of paper and headed for the bedroom. As he passed Julia, he brushed the top of her head with one hand. Once in her bedroom, he sat on bed, took off his shoes, and lay down.

Through half-closed eyes, he saw Julia peep into the room, then close the door, leaving him to sleep.

Which he did.

*****

He awoke later. It was dark. He was still sleepy but the four or five beers he had had with
Quinn a few hours earlier had worked their way to his bladder. He sat up, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. It took him a few seconds to figure out where he was. He looked over his shoulder, and saw Julia’s form under the sheet, sleeping soundly. He stood up and shakily made his way to her bathroom. When he returned, he saw that she had changed position and now had her back to him. Standing over her, he checked the time. It was 2:55. He briefly contemplated quietly leaving and going home, but thought again. Then undressed and joined her under the sheet. He lay down close to her, the position of his body the same as hers. He put his arm round her. She moved around a little, her body pressing against his. He settled down to go back to sleep. He snuggled closer to Julia. This felt good.

This is what kids call spooning, he thought, before falling asleep again.

*****

‘Eggs?’

Sam Leroy opened one eye, and tried to focus on the woman standing over him. It was daylight, and the sunlight was strong.

‘Say what?’

‘Do you want eggs? And if you do, are they scrambled, fried, poached…?’

He rubbed his face and sat up. ‘Er – scrambled would be good.’

‘Or French Toast?’

‘Yes, yes. French Toast.’

‘Coming up. Coffee’s there.’

‘Oh, thanks. What time is it?’

‘Seven,’ Julia replied, on her way out of the bedroom. ‘Get your ass in gear, Detective; I need to leave in thirty minutes.’

*****

‘As you obviously won’t be ready to leave at seven thirty,’ Julia said, as Leroy  munched on a strip of bacon, ‘I’ll leave you to take a shower and go when you’re ready.’

‘Thanks. I’ll clean up here before I go.’

‘You don’t need to, Sam.’

‘I will.’

‘You going straight home when you’re done here?’

‘Thought I would. Get some clean clothes on.’

‘Then what?’ Julia asked, as she looked in the mirror to apply some lipstick.

‘Just have a couple of people to see. Then catch up with
Quinn.’

‘Your partner?’

‘U-huh.’

‘Will I get to meet him one day?’

‘I guess so. His wife - Holly – will certainly want to meet you.’

‘Look forward to that.’ She leaned over to kiss him. ‘Have to go now, baby. Have a good day. Speak to you later.’

‘Sure,’ he said, watching her walk to the door.

‘Oh, by the way,’ she said, stopping and turning round. ‘I was right about
Davison. He does have a sister. I found that paper the 8
th
graders did while you were asleep. I left it there on the sofa. Have a look.’

‘Okay, I will. Thanks.’

After she closed the door, he stepped over to the sofa and picked up a small file. It comprised half a dozen sheets of letter-size paper, neatly bound together. He sat back down at the table, and opened it. Julia had left a post-it note on the page containing Secretary Davison’s details. In the personal details section it mentioned a sister. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought - like she said last night, just because something is on the internet is no guarantee it is correct – until he saw the sister’s name: Emma.

Emma. Emma.

He scratched his temple, racking his brains. He didn’t know anyone called Emma, but he was sure he had heard the name recently.

But where the hell had he heard it?