“And Messing and Pratt still have him in their sights?”
“Absolutely.”
“What about my wife?”
“We’ve got a black-and-white on Rina, and one on Harriman, too. We’re also keeping tabs on Esteban Cruz. No activity.”
“That’s good. Anything on Gil Kaffey or Antoine Resseur?”
“No.” Marge glanced at her watch. They were stuck in terrible traffic and even with the siren, it was slow going. “If we discover something interesting, I’ll buzz you back. Oliver is meeting Carmen Montenegro for dinner. Maybe Pinon’s school records will tell us something. She’s also checking to see if Martin Cruces went to the same school. If downtown turns out to be a bust, I’ve got some time. What do you need from me?”
“Our main focus is on Cruces. If we get lucky and place his prints at the scene, we’ll take him in. He’ll need to be interviewed. You want to do it?” “Sure.”
“Just keep track of everyone, Marge; Harriman, Martin Cruces, Esteban Cruz, and Alejandro Brand-he’s a real loose canon. Make sure he stays put in jail.”
“He isn’t going anywhere.”
“Hold on a sec, Marge.” Decker placed his hand over the receiver. The floor nurse, the same sixtyish looking woman who had loaned him the phone, said that Rondo Martin was up and wanted to talk to him.
“Don’t tax him too much. Otherwise the doc will give us both hell.”
“I promise. Thank you.” To Marge he said, “I’ve got to go. Martin is up. Let me know what’s going on.” He cut the line, washed his hands, and went into the ICU.
Rondo Martin appeared more awake and in a lot of pain. He lifted a veined hand with an IV needle taped to his wrist and managed to point to the chair by his bedside. Decker sat and as the former deputy sheriff shifted his position to move a little closer, his face contorted. Sweat trickled down his forehead.
“You need something for the pain, Rondo?” Decker asked.
“Demerol helps…but it knocks me out.” A slight smile. “Didn’t die before…ain’t gonna die now.”
“Tell me about Martin Cruces.”
“Cruces…” A nod. “He was there.”
“You’re sure?”
A nod. He closed his eyes. Under the lids, his orbs were moving rapidly. “It was Denny…he said… Denny said, ‘Martin’…I thought he meant me.” He paused, his eyes quivering. “I turned around…he exploded…Denny did.” He opened his eyes, weary and bloodshot. “It was Cruces. I’m positive.”
“Weren’t the shooters wearing masks?”
“No…not Joe…not Cruces. Wish they did. I see their ugly mugs every time I close my eyes.”
“And you’re sure that it was Cruces who shot Denny Orlando?”
Again, he closed his eyes. “I…I don’t know who fired…” A pause, then he opened his eyelids. “But Cruces was there.” He readjusted his position, but he was still in pain.
“That would make sense,” Decker told him. “Someone overheard a gangbanger talk about the murder. He mentioned Joe Pine, calling him José Pinon, and said that he ran out of ammo, that he didn’t kill Gil Kaffey. He said that Martin was pissed. Logically, I thought he meant you since you were missing.”
“Who’s the banger?” Martin asked.
“The kid named Alejandro Brand. His grandmother is named Cruz, so he might be related to Cruces. Are you sure you don’t know him?”
Martin shook his head no.
“Brand is a member of Bodega 12th Street gang. So is Pine. We think Cruces is as well. I can’t understand why Guy would hire thugs to guard him or his property.”
“Guy…he wanted to…to give back.”
“By hiring thugs?”
“He hired all kinds…like Paco…to give back.”
“Is that how Ana got the job?”
He nodded.
“And you got the job with Kaffey through Ana?”
A shake of the head said no. “Through Paco.”
“You met Paco before Ana?”
“No. I met Ana here…in Ponceville. She told me about…her uncle. He worked in L.A. and could get her a paying job as a maid. She was working in the fields before…stoop labor. I told her to take it.”
He took in a deep breath and when he let it out, he winced.
“Hard to get work if you’re illegal. Later, Paco set me up with Neptune Brady…so Ana and I could be together…no one knew about us. I didn’t want Brady to find out…Ana to get deported.”
“I understand.”
“Guy wanted to give back. It bit him in the ass.”
“Neptune Brady said Guy hired thugs because they were cheap.”
He thought about it. “Maybe that, too.”
“So you don’t know Alejandro Brand?”
“No.”
“How about Esteban Cruz?”
“Another Cruz? What does he look like?”
Decker tried to remember Marge’s description. “Scrawny kid around seventeen.”
Martin thought about it. “No…don’t sound familiar.”
“Joe Pine was young.”
“Twenties-not seventeen.”
“What about Cruces?”
Martin grimaced in pain. “Twenties, too. Don’t know any teens.”
The nurse came in and signaled five more minutes. Decker said, “I’m waiting for backup protection to watch the room. Brubeck, Tim England, and I are rotating shifts. England’s also looking for some volunteers in town, but I’ve requested professionals from Fresno. Willy and I won’t leave until we’ve got a system in place, Rondo.”
“That’s good, but I got my own system.” A smile formed on his lips as he pulled a hunk of steel from under his pillow. “Your protection is good, but a gun is even better.”
THIRTY-FIVE
AFTER REACHING THE hallowed Halls of Records at twenty minutes before closing time, Marge and Oliver rushed from floor to floor until they reached the correct department just as the door was closing. Their pleas fell on the ears of Adrianna Whitcomb, a forty-year-old, good-looking blonde.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Marge told the clerk.
They were talking in the anteroom of a basic government space: three teller windows with glass partitions, an institutional table holding brochures that no one ever read, and a floor of green and black terrazzo.
“You caught me at a good time.” She smoothed out the hips of her black pants suit. “I have a dinner date at six with nothing to do until then. Well, not exactly a date. What’s the street address of the business?”
Oliver gave her the address of Ernie’s El Matador. “Where do you eat around here?”
“Tonight we’re going to A Thousand Cranes. My girlfriend and me. She’s an assistant district attorney.” Her smile turned sly. “Would you care to join us, Detective? You two might have a lot in common.”
Oliver smiled back. “I’d love to join you two, but I have a meeting in the Valley. If you wouldn’t mind giving me your number, we’ll make it another time.”
“She might not be available.”
“We could work something out.”
“Well, we’ll see about that.” A pause. “Wait here. I’ll see what I can dig up.”
She disappeared behind the door and the area fell silent.
“You’re having a good day,” Marge whispered.
Oliver grinned. “Hey, when you sink enough shafts, you’re bound to hit oil.”
Adrianna returned a few minutes later and handed a printout to Marge. “Wish all my work was that easy. Anything else I can do for you?”
Oliver took out his business card. “In case you have the sudden need to contact a detective.”
Adrianna took it. “You never know.”
“And do you have a card in return…in case I have to come back?”
“Just call the office,” she told him.
Oliver tried to hide his disappointment. “Thanks.”
“Call the office if you want the office,” Adrianna said with a crooked smile. “But if you want to call me, my cell is on the top of the printout.”