“RONDO PUTS CRUCES at the scene,” Decker said over the phone. “Pick him up.”
“If you think the timing’s right, absolutely,” Marge said.
“What does that mean?”
“Do we really know if Rondo Martin is reliable? He still could be involved, Pete. It could be a conspiracy between him, Ana Mendez, Paco, and Riley Karns.”
“Why would they conspire to murder the Kaffeys?”
“Same reason you think Cruces and Pine did the killings. Someone paid them to do the hit. I’m looking at how defense would spin it. The bloody prints taken from the scene matched with Rondo Martin, Ana Mendez, and Riley Karns. Sure, they admit being at the scene, but in what capacity? If we had something, anything, to back up Martin’s story, I’d go for it. But since we don’t, maybe we should wait until all the forensic evidence comes in.”
Decker said, “I don’t want to lose this guy. Surveillance isn’t foolproof.”
“You’re certainly right about that. I’m just worried that if we bring him in without forensics, it’ll alert him and we’ll be more likely to lose him. Because we don’t have anything to keep him other than Rondo Martin’s say-so. How strong is that?”
“How far is Lee from unsealing Cruces’s juvenile record?”
“I don’t know. We’re headed back to the station house now.”
“Okay. We’ll give it another twenty-four hours to round up a set of prints. By that time, I’ll be back home. Keep a watch over Cruces. If it looks like he’s taking evasive action, grab him.”
“I hear you. I’ll tell Messing to beef it up.”
“Good. What’s happening with Ernie’s El Matador?”
“The bar is owned by the Baker Corporation.”
“Who the hell is that? And what kind of corporation owns a seedy bar? Sounds like a dummy corporation to me. Did you check if it’s a DBA?”
“Doing Business As? We didn’t have time to check it out. I bet Lee could do that kind of search on the computers in the squad room.”
“Keep me informed. And whatever you do, don’t lose Cruces.”
“Hopefully, we’ll get a set of his prints. I’m just trying to keep egg off our faces.”
“If Cruces rabbits, it won’t be just egg, Margie. It’ll be a whole damn soufflé.”
WANG SAID, “BAKER Corporation is a subsidiary of Kaffey Industries.”
“You’re kidding!” Marge opened and closed her mouth. “Kaffey owns Baker?”
“Read for yourself, but don’t get too excited. I’m sure Kaffey owns a lot of different businesses.”
“And among the businesses is the bar where Martin Cruces got his alibi.” She skimmed through the pages. “Does this make sense to you, Lee? That Kaffey Industries-a major development corporation that’s responsible for malls nationwide-would bother buying a seedy bar in Van Nuys?”
“Someone bought the bar using Kaffey money-or Baker Corporation money.”
Marge said, “Does the Baker Corporation have officers?”
“If it’s a DBA, probably not. Let me do a little more digging. Or you could just call Grant Kaffey and ask him about it.”
“I’m not calling Grant. He’s still a major suspect.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s back in Newport Beach. We don’t have to check in on him because he calls every two hours and asks about Gil. If he’s truly a concerned brother, I admire him. If he’s faking concern, let me tell you something. He’s a lousy actor.”
CARMEN MONTENEGRO HAD changed into something black and sexyish without going over the edge. She had put on just a dash of makeup and had drawn her hair into a knot allowing little curls to frame the side of her face. She was every high school boy’s fantasy: a TILF-Teacher I’d Like to Fuck. The only giveaway that the dinner had some business content was her briefcase-like purse.
Oliver had chosen a blue blazer and khaki pants. As they walked to the table, he held out the chair for her. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.” She scooted the chair closer to the table and took the menu offered by a waiter who introduced himself as Mike. He asked if either of them wanted a cocktail and both opted for a glass of house red wine.
“Excellent,” Mike extolled.
After he left, Carmen said, “It’s nice to get dressed up once in a while. Thank you for taking me out here. I couldn’t afford it otherwise. I hope the department is paying.”
Oliver smiled. “I’ll send in some kind of voucher, but usually the department frowns on these kinds of places. I’m taking you out here just because you’re you.”
“Don’t you know how to charm a woman.” Carmen opened the menu and her eyes widened. “Did you check this place out beforehand?”
“Order from the left side,” Oliver said. “The duck is great, but I’m having the Black Angus. And thank you very much for helping us out this afternoon.”
“You’re welcome. I have the copies of the files.” She opened her purse/briefcase and peered inside.
“I hope you can read them, because I had to photocopy the papers. A lot of this stuff was forwarded material from elementary school.”
“Whose files did you get?”
“I’ve got Esteban Cruz, Alejandro Brand, Martin Cruces, and José Pinon. I hope I didn’t miss anyone.”
“Wow. That’s complete. Thank you very much. Are they related?”
“They all went to Pacoima High, and they all dropped out.” She shut her purse. “Not our success stories, I’m sorry to say.”
“Were Cruces and Pinon troublemakers?”
“I don’t know personally, but their records don’t show either as being a thug.”
“They’re Bodega 12th Street gang members.”
“That says nothing. The school is crawling with Bodega 12th Streeters.”
The waiter came back with the wine. “Are you ready to order?”
Carmen’s smile looked frozen. “I guess I’ll have the duck.”
“Excellent choice,” Mike told her.
“Black Angus, medium rare.”
“Excellent,” Mike repeated. “Would either of you like a side vegetable. Our creamed spinach is excellent.”
“Sounds good,” Oliver said.
“Excellent.” Mike took the menus and left.
“As a former English teacher,” Carmen said dryly, “I would tell him to look in the thesaurus for another adjective.”
Oliver burst into laughter. “Indeed. At least he’s pleasant.”
“Yeah, I hate snooty waiters. They make me nervous, like I’m not good enough.”
“That would never be the case.”
Carmen lowered her eyes. The next few minutes were spent in idle chitchat about their respective fields. But Oliver was antsy. He really had arranged the dinner for business purposes. When the time seemed right, he said, “Carmen, would you be offended if I took a peek at the records?”
“Uh…sure.”
“Why the hesitation?”
She put up a forced smile. “I don’t know if I was really supposed to copy the files and give them to you.”
“Ah…I’ll wait. No problem.”
Carmen slid her purse under the table. “You’re here for a purpose. I respect that. Take a peek, Detective.” She leaned over and wrinkled her nose. “Just be subtle.”
“It’s Scott, and thanks for being such a good sport. I owe you a dinner where we don’t conduct business.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Then I’d like to take you out again.”
“Are you sure about that?” She grinned. “The evening’s not over.”
“I’m sure.” Oliver thought about Adrianna Whitcomb and decided she’d have to wait. At his age, he just couldn’t handle more than one at a time. He lifted one of the files from the briefcase on the floor and set it on his lap. Esteban Cruz; he flipped through the pages, but he couldn’t really make out the type because the lighting was so dim.
Then something stopped him cold.
Carmen said, “What’s wrong?”