But not having a gun was definitely causing a problem here. He needed total surprise on his side. And tactics.
And it wasn’t as if there was any choice in the matter of who it had to be. This person had spent the night at Sally’s, keeping her prisoner, and people must be made to see that they shouldn’t do things like that.
He was certain nothing had happened. In fact, it never even entered his mind for a moment that she would be unfaithful to him or that she had been anything other than an unwilling captive. But someone had been in the house, keeping him away, and all night he had suffered headaches and stomach pains. She must see that was not good. These people would only exert a bad influence on her, and she was so impressionable.
First, he had presented her with a random offering; now he was working on real obstacles, on cutting them all out of her life so she could come to him and they could live or die the way destiny intended. It would be soon.
Then, suddenly, a car pulled up outside the house and someone else went in. Two of them. One would have been difficult enough, but two would be too much of a risk. Unless he could think of something, maybe come up with a new sense.
And so he kept on waiting. It was only ten o’clock. Plenty of time. If he remained still and focused his mind completely on the image of Sally hanging from his rearview mirror, he knew that whatever he needed to do would become clear. And how to do it.
30
Shortly after ten o’clock on new year’s eve, Arvo was thinking of going to bed. He was watching Roger Corman’s Attack of the Crab Monsters on video, and it was no insult to the 1957 black-and-white B-movie that he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open.
It had been a rough two days, ending with Jack Marillo’s funeral. He had checked the rest of the M’s from the list Stuart had given him and come up with zero. One promising lead — a key grip called Kim Magellan who had once been arrested for stalking her ex-girlfriend — proved to be unconnected after Arvo had spent a couple of hours interviewing her.
He had also spent an uncomfortable afternoon closeted with the lieutenant and the Chief, laying out every bit of evidence and speculation in the Sarah Broughton case. While the pressure had been intense, the result was satisfactory. He and Joe were to coordinate the investigation, with plenty of resources at their disposal, and the department would try to keep the letters out of the media. Everyone agreed that excessive media attention would make it even more difficult to protect Sarah Broughton and the people around her.
It was only a matter of time, though, Arvo knew. They would find out. They always did. As the Chief had pointed out, there was already speculation about a member of the TMU being present at the Marillo crime scene. So far, however, the main theory seemed to be that Jack Marillo had been blackmailed or somehow harassed by a gay ex-lover.
Arvo sat with his feet up, shutters partly open, leaves rustling, traffic whooshing along the freeway, a cool breeze from the window about the only thing keeping him awake. It was the first time he had felt so completely relaxed in a while.
Then the doorbell rang.
By instinct, he picked up his nylon holster from the table beside him before he went to the door and grasped the handle of the gun. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and in LA it was almost unheard of that someone would simply drop by without phoning first. Even under normal circumstances, there were always plenty of people who wanted to do a cop harm, and some of them could even get hold of his address. And these were not normal circumstances.
Carefully, he opened the front door on its chain, and found Maria Hernandez standing there, a bottle of champagne in her hand.
“It’s the real stuff,” she said, noticing him look at the bottle. “At least that’s what the guy in the liquor store said.”
“How did you know where I live?” was all Arvo could manage.
“Hey, I’m a very resourceful woman. I have a university education and I’m good with computers, too. Can I come in?”
Arvo stood aside and ushered her in. She was wearing a long black PVC raincoat against the evening chill and the earlier shower. Her black hair tumbled in waves over her shoulders.
“How did you know I’d be home?” Arvo asked.
“You told me, the other day. Remember? Said you hated New Year’s parties and always stayed in alone watching a video. Aren’t you pleased to see me?”
Arvo felt awkward. “Of course. But, look, what... I mean is... you must have a party or something... ?”
She fluttered her eyelashes and laughed. “Pretty girl like me? Sure I do. But I didn’t feel like going. Then I remembered what you said and I thought you might like some company. So here I am. Did I do wrong?”
Arvo felt himself grinning like an idiot. “No. No, not at all.”
“Good.” She smiled and took her coat off. Underneath she wore a black-and-white polka dot dress. Polka dots, Christ. Arvo hadn’t seen them for years. At least he didn’t think he had. But what he knew about fashion wouldn’t fill the back of a postage stamp.
The dress was cut low, showing a little dark, smooth cleavage, with two black straps over her shoulders. It flared out below her hips and ended about four inches above her knees. Her legs were bare and she wore a pair of black pumps. The way she moved, Arvo was beginning to think she was a little tipsy. Maybe she’d been to the party already.
“Come in.” He led her through to the living room and cleared the magazines off the sofa and chairs. Other than that, the place was reasonably clean and tidy, no dirty shirts, socks or boxer shorts hanging over chair backs.
“What is this?” Maria pointed to the television, where a giant crab crawled over the top of a sand dune.
“Oh, nothing.” Arvo picked up the remote and punched in the buttons to turn the TV and VCR off.
“Yes, it is. It’s Attack of the Crab Monsters. You like fifties sci-fi movies?”
“Well, yeah,” said Arvo, feeling as if he’d been caught masturbating or something. “Just sometimes, you know... ”
“Why?”
“Well, I haven’t really analyzed it much. I like lots of different kinds of movies, but I guess with these it’s partly the simplicity, good against evil. And the evil’s always something tangible... you know... ”
“Like a giant crab?”
“Yeah. Or a monster from outer space. Or some mutation caused by atomic testing or something.”
“Not from inner space, like the stuff we deal with?”
“That’s right. And maybe most important of all, it’s just pure fantasy, escapism, and the good guys usually win. You’re not a fan, too, are you?”
“Me? Yuck, no. I saw it once on late-night TV when I was a teenager and it scared the shit out of me. I don’t like scary movies, and I get scared even at the old ones, before they could do all the gory special effects. Even when you could see the strings.” She laughed. “I like romantic comedies. Same pure fantasy, though.”
“Maybe you’re right. Shall I get us some glasses?”
“Sure.”
Maria breezed over to the bookshelves that housed Arvo’s video collection and started reading off titles. “You’ve sure got eclectic taste,” she said. “The Maltese Falcon, Doctor Zhivago, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, Bridge over the River Kwai, Bloodsucking Pharaohs in Pittsburgh. Jesus Christ. Is there any order to all this?”
“Not really,” said Arvo, taking a couple of champagne flutes out of the cabinet. “I just like movies. There aren’t many that are perfect, like maybe Citizen Kane or Chinatown, but they all have something interesting in them — maybe good acting, some great dialogue, camerawork, whatever. Maybe just one good scene.” He shrugged and removed the wire from the neck of the bottle.