Unpaid Dues (31 page)

Munch was allowed into her house. Lou helped her
repair the damage to her doorjamb enough so that the lock would hold.
Accompanied by St. John, she did a walk-through. There was some blood
in the bathroom where Thor had apparently dressed his wounds. She
wasn't allowed to clean it up until the criminalists processed the
scene. They did allow her to retrieve her mail. She was happily
surprised for Nathan's sake to find a thick envelope addressed to him
with a European postmark. She brought it out to him, glad to see that
Deb had come through on at least one of her promises.

"
The police will take you to your grandma's."

"I can't do that," he said. "What are
her neighbors going to think?"

"
Oh for crying out loud," she said, wishing
he wouldn't fight her on everything. "I'll get Lou to take you
over there and I'll call you later."

"All right," he said, his voice sounding
more adult than it had that morning. She hugged him until he pulled
away uncomfortable with her show of affection, his feet pointing away
from her. She hoped Asia would never go through this stage, but it
was probably inevitable.

Rico had arrived and joined the ring of cops on her
driveway He was exchanging words with Mace St. John. She wished she
didn't have to see him anymore but knew that it couldn't be avoided.
At least until all the shouting died down and the DA declared the
case closed.

"We all need to go to the station," St.
John said.

"
We're going to need Munch's full statement. I'm
sorry but it' s better to do it while all the events are still
fresh."

"I'm practically still bleeding," she said,
directing her venom at the lover who'd ripped her heart out. Rico
stared at his feet.

"You can ride with us," St. John said.

"
You want me to follow?" Lou asked, joining
them in time to hear this.

"
No." Munch put a hand on his arm and
squeezed it gently trying to convey to him that he was still
connected but needed elsewhere. "I was hoping you would take
Nathan home to his grandmother's. He seems pretty anxious to get out
of here."

"Can't say that I blame him."

She glanced at the fresh blood on the sidewalk and
wondered if the cops would hose it down or if that was something she
would have to do later. "And then you should get back to work.
Someone has to mind the store."

Lou grimaced.

"I'll be fine," she told him. "One of
these guys will bring me back."

Lou gestured for Nathan to get in his car. She waved
as they drove away watching the car until it turned the corner.

Cassiletti touched her elbow. "You want to sit
in front?"

"No, I'm okay in the back. Let's just get this
over with."

Cassiletti drove. St. John rode shotgun. Munch sat in
the center of the backseat so she could be part of their
conversation. Cassiletti was going on about some knot.

"It's called a timber hitch," he said.
"Lumberjacks use it when they need to drag logs."

"So you think he dragged the, uh, package before
he dumped it?" St. John asked.

Munch leaned forward. She was pretty sure "package"
was a euphemism for something far more sinister.

"
Most likely it was a knot he was familiar with
and just tied it out of habit," Cassiletti said. "Even with
the block, the, uh, package wasn't that heavy not for a big guy like
him."

"Something to think about," St. John said.

Munch slumped back in the seat, crossing her arms
over her chest in frustration.

"What?" St. John asked.

"
You need to brush up on your code work,"
Munch said. "Package would be the body right? Jane's body? The
killer used a rope to tie something to her before he dumped her body
I'm thinking that would be the block. The block came from Big Mike's
construction site. The knot was unusual and could be important. How
am I doing so far?"

St. John grinned. "Pretty good."

"
Elementary my dear Holmes."

"By the way" Cassiletti added, "we
didn't get a match on the rope from the samplings we took at the
construction site."

"We probably have enough without it," St.
John said, but he didn't look happy

"I hate loose ends too," Munch said.

"
Chac6n is going to be at the station," St.
John said. "He'll need to be there when the DA debriefs you."

"
Whatever we need to do to end this thing."

"We're almost there."

* * *

It took hours to go through her statement. She
described one more time the events surrounding the murders of the
three suspected drug dealers in 1975. Rico had several questions for
her and kept referring to a large three-ring binder.

"Is that the murder book?" she asked.

"Yes."

She held out her hands. "Can I?"

"You sure you want to?"

"
They can't be any worse than what I've carried
in my imagination all these years."

"
Don't be so sure. Besides, I don't want your
recollection of the events tainted if you're called to testify "

"
Everybody's gone now, remember?" Thor had
never regained consciousness. He had died at the hospital from what
surgeons discovered to be a rupture in his aorta. The lethal injury
was the result of the van's steering wheel compressing his chest
during the accident, but it took a day and the extra tumble with the
cops and Nathan for the tear to fully dissect.

"
Who would I testify against?"

Rico spun the loose-leaf binder so that it faced her.
She flipped to the plastic pages that held the photographs. The dead
were sprawled throughout the flat, mouths slack, eyes staring,
throats opened savagely She saw the pictures of the bloody footprints
and then noticed something Rico might have missed. It was a child's
Levi's jacket. One with Harley—Davidson wings on the back and
treble clefs embroidered on the collar.

"Oh no," she said. "Oh God, no
wonder."

She found the news clipping from 1975. The dead men
were identified. She had never read the whole article, hadn't wanted
to. She read it now, stopping when she came to the name of one of the
deceased. Walter Franklin, twenty-five. A musician from Compton,
survived by his mother: Doleen Franklin.

And a son, Munch realized. A son who had not
forgotten nor forgiven. Nathan said he had come to town with a list
of people to contact. Now she was thinking he had arrived with two
lists.

Rico took the book back and studied the same page.
Realization darkened his eyes. "It was the kid, wasn't it? He
was there."

"
No, this can't be right," she said.

"It doesn't look good."

"Let me make some phone calls."

"Why?"

"I can prove it wasn't him."

Rico hesitated.

"
Just give me that much." Did he want her
to beg? She let her voice soften. "Please."

She pulled Roxanne's Pacific Bell bill from her purse
and reached for Rico's telephone.

He didn't try to stop her.

One by one Munch called the L.A. numbers high-highted
on Roxanne's statement, signifying the numbers she didn't recognize
and the calls she hadn't made. Munch was connected first to the pay
phone at Shelter from the Storm, then the offices of New Start in Sun
Valley and finally the answering machine for Mike Peyovich
Construction. She hung up on the machine without waiting for the
beep.

Rico's face was a mask of sympathy She imagined it
was the same expression he wore when his job required him to deliver
news no one wanted to hear. Fuck him and his bad news, she thought.

He reached for the phone bill, but she wasn't ready
to relinquish it. Not yet and not to him anyway.

"Wait," she said, not begging anymore. She
dialed Roxanne in Sacramento. When Roxanne answered, Munch plunged
into her questions without bothering to identify herself.

"Last month, did Deb send you a package of stuff
to mail out?"

"I know what you're thinking. It wasn't dope."

"
How do you know?"

"
They were just letters."

"
Letters to whom?"

"I don't know, greeting cards, like. Thank-you
notes or late Christmas cards. No packages, just a handful of blue
envelopes. I don't know what the big deal was."

"
When did Nathan leave you?"

"
The first week of February."

"
Are you sure?"

"
Yeah, I'm sure. Why'?"

"He didn't get to me until after Valentine's
Day. I had assumed he came straight to me from you."

"Not unless he walked."

"I've gotta go." Munch gathered up the
murder book and pushed past Rico, feeling nothing as their bodies
collided.

Still clutching the murder book, she stood before St.
John's desk. He was in the middle of typing something and stopped,
looking at her with a question on his face. "In the van last
night, Thor had a greeting card. It was in a blue envelope. Did you
find it in the wreckage?"
 
"
I'd
have to check," he said. "Why?"

"
I just saw it for a second, but I realized I'd
seen one exactly like it in the last few days. The note inside read:
'I haven't forgotten you.' "

"I found a card like that at Jane Ferrar's
apartment. What are you on to?"

"Thor told me he gets them every year." Now
she knew what the V scratched on Jane's chest stood for. It was
vengeance.

Rico joined them then. "It was the kid."

"What kid'?" St. John asked.

Rico pried the murder book from Munch's unwilling
fingers and pointed to the small footprints cast in blood and then
the newspaper clipping. "Jane Ferrar, Cyrill McCarthy and
Jonathan Garillo murdered Nathan Franklin's father, Walter Franklin.
Nathan must have been in the apartment when it happened.

He might have watched it all."

"He had to be, what, six?" St. John asked.

Munch sat down woodenly "After the murder, his
grandma sent him and his mom to live up in Oregon. His mom always
kept track of everyone from the old days. She's out of the country—"

"And Nathan came down here to carry out his
pay-backs," Rico finished for her.

"
The kid who was at your house?" St. John
asked.

Munch nodded.

"I thought he seemed familiar. We saw him
working at Big Mike's construction site." St. John turned to
Cassiletti. "The kid with the shirt around his head. Remember?"

Cassiletti nodded. "He might have learned the
knot in Oregon, maybe working in a logging camp. And a kid from
Oregon wouldn't realize how quickly rainwater in L.A. subsides."

St. John took out his car keys. "I guess we need
to go to the grandmother's house." He pointed to the victim
profile report. "Is she still at this same address in Compton?"

"Yes," Munch said. "Let me come with
you. I'll make sure he cooperates." While the men notified their
chain of command, Munch eased into an empty office and made two other
calls. The first was to hire the attorney Jim McManis.

They all drove to Doleen Franklin's house. Half of
Munch hoped Nathan was gone already on some big silver bird headed
for the "Neverlands."

It was not to be.

St. John started to walk to the front door while
Cassiletti went around to the back.

"Can I talk to him first?" Munch asked.

Before St. John could say no she added, "He's
not going to get away Please, I need to do this."

"
Five minutes," St. John said.

Doleen answered the door.

"We've come for Nathan," Munch said.

"
That the poh-lice?" Doleen asked, looking
very old, very weary

"
Yeah. They're friends of mine. They won't hurt
him."

"C'mon, boy" Doleen called to the back of
the house. "C'mon out here and le's get this out in the open."

Nathan emerged from the back bedroom. His face looked
like he'd been in a car accident. The tears on his cheeks were fresh.
"What's going to happen now?" he asked.
 
"You were there, weren't you?" Munch said.
"You were in the house when they killed your daddy"

Nathan looked at his grandma, then down at his boots.

"And Jane?" Munch's grief was for all of
them. His jaw dropped open, quivering with emotion. It was several
seconds before he could speak. "My daddy begged her to stop. He
called her by name. That's when she cut his throat. When she was done
with that, she carved a V on his chest. He was still alive when she
did that. Did you know that? It took him a long time to die."

Doleen let out a keening wail and sank into the
couch.