Obsession (28 page)

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Authors: Jonathan Kellerman

Tags: #Los Angeles (Calif.), #Police Procedural, #Mystery Fiction, #Police, #Mystery & Detective, #Police - California - Los Angeles, #General, #Psychological, #Delaware; Alex (Fictitious character), #Suspense, #Young women, #Thrillers, #Psychological Fiction, #Fiction, #Sturgis; Milo (Fictitious character), #Psychologists

BOOK: Obsession
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Milo said, “You have a lot of those?”

“What can I say, I love women. Adore each and every one of them.” Bedard drank and cracked ice with his teeth and used one hand to outline the guitar-contours of the female form. “I guess you could say I’m enamored of half the world—what’s that, three billion? Minus one—my ex-wife. Lord, can you imagine working your way through that mass of femininity? The concept’s staggering.”

Hoisting again, he said, “Here’s to the X chromosome.”

Milo said, “When did you start stopping over at Mary Whitbread’s?”

“Let’s see…way back—fifteen years or so.”

“Are you still doing it?”

“She’s over fifty. Far too mature for me.”

“She was a stopover but you sold her four buildings.”

“So I did.”

“Quid pro quo?”

Bedard laughed. “Mary paid fair market value. The fact that no agent’s commission was involved gave me a bit more flexibility and she didn’t need to wait for financing.”

“She paid cash?”

“A cashier’s check to be exact.”

“How much are we talking about?”

“Hmm,” said Bedard. “That long ago, I’d say…a million, million five.”

“Where’d she get that kind of money?”

“I have no idea. What has she done to get you so interested in her?”

“Who initiated the sale?” said Milo.

“All questions, no answers, eh? The decision was mutual. Mary was living in Carthay Circle, had sold some apartments in the Valley and was looking to trade up, possibly go the owner-occupied route. We’d owned the duplexes long enough to make a nice profit but as pure rentals, the returns weren’t optimal. I didn’t want to waste time on properties with less than a dozen units, so the timing was perfect.”

Rocking his glass, he stared at the wave motion. “It’s like playing Monopoly, one trades houses for hotels. There’s a school of thought that says hold, never sell, but I find that uncomfortably static.”

Another tightening of his lips.

I said, “Your father’s school of thought?”

Little eyeglass lenses flashed as he focused on me. “You’re playing psychologist with me. But yes, you’re correct. And no doubt Father would insist
he
was right. Those four buildings have got to be worth five, six mil. But I did fine on the ones I bought.”

Adolescent strain in
his
voice. Kyle had told me his father and grandfather loathed each other. Cashmere and silk were nice, but they made for poor bandages.

He said, “I’m still intrigued by all the interest in Mary. Is it because Patty Bigelow lived in one of the duplexes? There’s no mystery to that. I sent Patty to Mary after she had to leave here.”

“After your father died.”

“She was a terrific caretaker,” said Bedard, “but there was no reason for her to stay.”

“Let’s get back to Peterson Whitbread,” I said. “How did Kyle come to know him?”

“This is about
Pete
? What has
he
done?”

Milo said, “Did Kyle meet him during your stopovers?”

Bedard fondled his ascot. “I’m not obligated to talk to you.”

“Any reason you wouldn’t want to cooperate?”

“Jet lag, for one. Bedard orneriness for another.” Capped smile. “No, I’m easy. Or so I’ve been told.”

People like to talk about themselves. My profession banks on it. Sometimes, though, it’s a means of avoiding substance.

I said, “What was the problem between Kyle and Pete?”

“Who said there was any?”

“You keep shying away from talking about it.”

“Lord,” said Myron Bedard. “And to think I’ve
supported
your profession.”

Milo said, “Would it help if I asked the same question?”

“Ha…no, I’m not trying to be evasive. It’s just that bringing up those days reminds me of…it’s a rather jarring example of the impulsiveness I was talking about. Precisely why I didn’t want Kyle here.”

I said, “You took Kyle along when you saw Mary and he saw things he shouldn’t have.”

“At the very least he heard things. Mary could be…exuberant. Yes, I had poor judgment, but you need to understand, I was Kyle’s primary parent, if I wasn’t with him he didn’t get any attention at all. You’ve met my ex-wife. Can you imagine her nurturing
anything
? So yes, I let him tag along everywhere. Now I realize there were some…inappropriate instances.”

“How old was Kyle when he accompanied you to Mary’s?”

“I’d say…nine, ten, who remembers? I thought it would be fun because Pete was a bit older. Kyle’s an only child.”

Drinking some more. “To my mind, it was better than leaving Kyle alone in
this
godforsaken place.”

“Big house.”

“Big cold
tomb
,” said Bedard. “I
hated
growing up here. One day I’ll sell it. I’m keeping an eye on the market.”

I said, “How’d Kyle react to the visits?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said there were inappropriate instances.”

“I was talking generally. Hearing Mary and I…for the most part, Kyle seemed fine.”

“For the most part.”

“One time—the last time—he seemed kind of moody. All I could get out of him was that he didn’t like Pete, preferred not to go back. Those were probably his exact words—‘Dad, I’d prefer not to go back.’ He always talked like an adult, when he was really small, people would say, ‘Where’s the ventriloquist?’”

“Why didn’t he like Pete?”

“He didn’t elaborate.”

“You didn’t pursue it.”

“I didn’t see any reason to. Kyle made a request, I honored it.”

I didn’t answer.

Bedard said, “Please don’t tell me something disgusting went on. I refuse to believe Kyle wouldn’t have told me. Most kids don’t talk to their parents. But with Kyle and me it was different. There was absolutely
no
sign of
anything
like that.”

Milo said, “That’s not what we’re after but if you do suspect something, now would be a—”

“I don’t. And frankly I don’t see what any of this has to do with Patty Bigelow and her daughter. I’m still confused about why you asked Kyle about Patty in the first place and why he’s so concerned. Patty died of cancer, not under suspicious circumstances.”

“What did Kyle tell you?”

“That you were going back and looking into her death and that possibly it was related to Lester’s death.”

“How’d you find out about Lester’s death?”

“Kyle called me in Venice and told me.”

“When?”

“Yesterday morning.” Wry smile. “Quite
early
in the morning. Right after I arrived from a rather gourmandish night in Paris and was trying to sleep it off.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“That’s it,” said Bedard. “The part about Patty didn’t come up until the ride from the airport.”

“Kyle’s explanation for why he wanted to drive past Tanya’s.”

“Not that it clarified matters.”

“Why’d you come back to L.A., sir?”

“Kyle asked me to.”

“Just like that, with no explanation.”

“You’re not a father, Lieutenant. I heard the need in my son’s voice and responded. I did try to get him to explain, but it made him more upset so I dropped it. I’ve learned to let Kyle proceed at his own pace—did you see how tough it was just getting him to leave the damn
room
?”

Milo said, “Why exactly did Kyle say he wanted to drive past Tanya’s house?”

“To make sure she was okay. And then he blushed and got fidgety. From that I inferred that he was smitten by the girl. That surprised me but not unpleasantly. ‘Kyle’ and ‘women’ aren’t two words often uttered in the same breath.”

“Not a ladies’ man.”

“It wouldn’t shock me if he was still a virgin.” Dry chuckle. “Where did I go wrong?”

I said, “Why did Kyle drive by Mary Whitbread’s duplex?”

“I had no idea he was going to do that. When he turned on Third instead of Beverly, I figured it was an alternative route, maybe something to do with traffic patterns—I haven’t been in L.A. for months, the bastards at City Hall keep digging up the streets. Then he turned off at Orlando and before I knew it, we were idling in front of Mary’s duplex. I asked him what the heck he was doing and he turned and gave me a strange look and began humming ‘Auld Lang Syne.’”

“Doing it for old times’ sake.”

“But he didn’t look amused. Quite the contrary, he was uptight and stayed that way, refused to explain.”

Bedard swallowed the last of the bourbon. “The ride home was tense. I’d just left Venice for him and believe me, that city is gorgeous any time of year—if you haven’t been there, trust me, you have to. Before the whole damn thing sinks into oblivion.”

“You came home because Kyle sounded upset,” I said, “but he wouldn’t explain why.”

“I tried to get it out of him. That’s why we were sitting in the driveway when you pulled your little commando raid.”

Running a finger under the knot of his ascot, he said, “Why can’t you tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Let’s go back a bit,” I said. “How exactly did you meet Mary Whitbread?”

“Through my brother-in-law.”

“Lester Jordan.”

“The late, unlamented.”

“How did he know her?”

“As I said, Mary’s an exuberant gal. Do you know anything about her background?”

“In Chicago?”

“Her story—and I can’t vouch for it—is that back in Chicago she hung around with Mafia types. She also said she knew Mayor Daley, the Kennedys. But isn’t that the standard claim? Perhaps if you chat with her long enough she’ll claim to have bedded Jimmy Hoffa and Amelia Earhart.”

“Standard claim for who?”

“Aging bimbos. I’m not trying to be cruel, but let’s face it, that’s what Mary is. I’d take anything she says with more than a dash of
sel de mer
.”

“You don’t trust her but you did a real estate deal with her.”

“Her cashier’s check was genuine.”

“How’d she know Lester Jordan?”

“Among her varied interests were musicians,” said Bedard. “Les played sax in a traveling combo that had a gig at a club where Mary was ahem
dancing
.” Wink wink. “I suppose push led to shove…so to speak. And wouldn’t you know it, that’s the one time Mary got careless. A one-night stand and it’s time to buy diapers.”

He shook his head. “Stupid.”

Milo said, “Jordan was Peterson’s father?”

“Perhaps that was what motivated her to get her tubes tied. Or perhaps it was just a convenience. Given her new occupation.”

“Porn.”

“Aha,” said Bedard. “You know about all that. Have you ever seen Mary’s work?”

“No, sir.”

“High-quality, Lieutenant. For what it is.”

“If she didn’t want kids, why didn’t she abort?”

“She considered it,” said Bedard. “Told me so—pillow talk and all that. Her reason for not doing so was that she was dating a wealthy old man at the time. A wealthy
generous
old man, whom she thought she might be able to con into thinking the baby was his. Unfortunately, the plan backfired.”

“Sugar Daddy wasn’t overjoyed,” said Milo.

“Sugar Daddy demanded a paternity test and when she procrastinated, he kicked her somewhat enlarged butt out into the street. By the time it happened, she was too far along to feel comfortable aborting.”

“Scruples.”

“I suppose she has a few. Poor Mary. She’s blessed with vaginal muscles from heaven but her judgment sometimes falls short of the mark. She had the baby but from what I could tell, didn’t do much in the way of raising it. In that way, she’s not unlike my ex-wife.” To me: “No, my seeing her was
not
an example of neurotic pattern. In crucial ways, there were
differences
between Mary and Iona.”

Playing with his glass. “One hears about maternal instincts but I’ve run into quite a few women who seem to lack it.”

“When’s the last time you saw Mary?”

“I thought I answered that.”

“You said she was too old.”

“And has been for at least a decade. That’s why I was surprised when Kyle pulled up in front of her place and started humming. I do my best to
forget
old acquaintances.”

“Unpleasant memories?”

“Not at all, Doctor. I believe in moving on.”

“So you met Mary through Lester Jordan.”

“Ah, Lester,” he said. “Lester was a cancer on my married life—rock-filled baggage that I was willing to tolerate when I still had feelings for Iona. But I never liked giving him money because I knew where it was going. I met Mary, when I came by to give Lester yet another check and she was there. The sight of a woman who looked like that associated with a dried-up scrotum like Lester caught my attention.”

“Why was she there?”

“The two of them were having some kind of spat. Lester’s mood didn’t concern me but a beautiful woman so upset?” Touching a blue silk breast. “She ran out, I handed Lester his dole and went after her, gave her a shoulder to cry on.” Adjusting his glasses. “One thing led to another.”

“Why was she crying?”

“She wanted Lester to see Pete. Pete always asked to see his father but Lester rarely agreed. Par for the course.”

“His being an addict,” said Milo.

“Addiction’s all about self-indulgence, right? That’s what Patty told me. My sense was she was happy to be rid of him. That would be any rational person’s reaction to Lester.”

“Except his son’s.”

Bedard removed his glasses. “Sons can be like that.”

“Attached,” I said.

“Beyond the point of reason. I’m sure being rejected inflicted wounds on the kid’s psyche, but believe me, Pete was better off not being exposed to Lester. The man was
dirt
.”

“And you had to support him.”

“Like I said, baggage.”

“Your ex thinks you killed him.”

Bedard pulled out a foot of ascot and wiped his lenses. “That tells you about her judgment. I’ve been in Europe for two months.”

“She says you wouldn’t do it yourself, you’d hire someone.”

“I’m sure I would.
If
killing Lester was my aim. Unfortunately for Iona, Lester had been out of my life for years. Why the hell would I waste money—not to mention put myself in jeopardy—to squash a roach in someone else’s kitchen?”

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