Sunset Express

Two detectives from the L.A. County Sheriff's Office arrived, followed almost immediately by a criminalist van. The lead detective was a heavyset guy with thinning hair named Don Phillips. A DA's car came next, offloading a thin woman named Sherman, a bald guy named Stu Miller, and an intense African-American guy in dark glasses named Warren Bidwell. Sherman was the Assistant Deputy DA charged with prosecuting the Teddy Martin case. Miller and Bidwell worked for her.

All three of them slipped under the tape and went into Richards' duplex, then Miller and Sherman slipped out again and came over to me. Tyler gave them a bright smile and pushed aside her bangs. 'Would either of you like iced tea?'

Sherman said, 'No.' She squinted at me. 'I'm Anna Sherman from the district attorney's office and this is Stu Miller. Would you come inside, please?'

'Sure.'

Tyler said, 'Can I come, too?'

Anna Sherman said, 'No.'

I shrugged at Tyler and followed them.

Inside, Sherman said, 'Okay. Walk me through what happened.'

I told them about getting the address from Pavlavi and finding the duplex deserted and popping the lock to let myself in. I told them about finding the envelope under the couch cushions and opening the envelope. Sherman stopped me. 'You touched the envelope?'

'That's right.'

The criminalist said, 'What about the contents?'

I shook my head. 'Edges only. When I saw what I had I slid the stuff out onto the couch. I used my knuckles to separate the pages first time through. When I photographed the material I was wearing gloves.'

Bidwell was glowering so hard his body was making little jerks and lurches and I wondered if he knew he was doing it. He said, 'I want those photographs.'

I shook my head. 'I don't think so.'

Bidwell lurched harder. 'You don't? Are you a sworn officer? You have a search warrant or any authority to break into a private residence?'

I looked at Sherman. 'You want me to continue or should I call my lawyer?'

Sherman closed her eyes and shook her head. 'Not now, Warren.'

The yard and the walk outside grew crowded with cops and media people and rubberneckers from the neighborhood drawn by gathering news vans. Between questions I watched the on-air television talent fan out among the cops. A woman I'd seen a thousand times on the local NBC affiliate was talking with her camera operator when the camera operator saw me standing in the window and pointed me out. The reporter said something and the operator trained his camera on me. The reporter ducked past Flutey and hurried over to the window. She was all frosted hair and intelligent eyes. 'Are you the detective who found the kidnappers?'

I gave her Bill Dana. 'My name Jose Jimenez.'

She waved her camera operator closer. 'Look, we know that two men named Elton Richards and Steve Pritzik lived here and we'd like an on-camera statement.' The camera operator held the camera over his head, trying to scan the room.

Don Phillips saw the camera coming through the window and said, 'Jesus Christ!' He pushed in front of me, then leaned out the window and yelled at a uniformed sergeant. 'Clear the area, for Christ's sake. Seal it off from the street back.' The sergeant hustled away, and Phillips looked at me. 'Are you trying to be cute?'

I spread my hands. 'Trying has nothing to do with it.'

The uniforms were pushing the press and gawkers along the walk when a ripple spread up from the street and across the crowd as if someone had amped a jolt of electricity through the air. Heads turned and voices rose, and the TV people surged toward the street. Phillips said, 'Now what?'

Jonathan Green and Elliot Truly and the videographer from Inside News were working their way through the crowd. The videographer's sound tech was trying her best to move people out of their way, but it was hard going until Hernandez and Flutey and a couple of other uniforms lent a hand. Anna Sherman came to the window, then gathered Bidwell and Miller for a whispered conference. When Green and the others pushed their way through the front door past the uniformed sergeant, Phillips said, 'Where in hell do you think you're going?'

Anna Sherman came over and smiled tightly. 'Let them pass, detective.' She offered her hand. 'Hello, Mr Green.'

'Ms Sherman.' Jonathan Green smiled at me. 'Congratulations, son. I think you've made my day.' The videographer bumped into Phillips as he tried to get the shot, and Phillips shoved him away. Hard. The videographer said, 'Hey.'

Anna Sherman said, 'Detective Phillips, this is Jonathan Green. Mr Green represents Theodore Martin.'

Phillips said, 'How about that.'

Jonathan and Truly went to the couch and leaned over the papers without touching them. Phillips said, 'Don't touch anything. We haven't printed them yet.'

Truly was grinning wildly and shaking his head. 'This is wonderful. Would you look at this? This is absolutely fabulous.' He grinned at me and then he grinned at Sherman, only Sherman didn't return it.

Green said, 'Mr Cole, are these the same documents you found when you entered this residence?' He said it loudly so that everyone in the room could hear.

'Yes.'

Green motioned to videographer. 'Would you get a close up of this, please?'

The videographer almost tripped over himself getting there. Bidwell said, 'Who is this dork?'

Truly said, 'They're from Inside News. They're doing a documentary on Jonathan.'

Bidwell said, 'Oh, for God's sake,' and shook his head.

As the videographer panned the evidence, Jonathan looked back at me. 'There are no new documents, and none of the documents you found are now missing?'

'Of course not.'

The videographer panned up to Jonathan, and Jonathan said, 'Mr Cole photographed the documents found in this envelope before the police were summoned. That photographic record constitutes an accurate accounting of exactly what was here before the police took possession of the evidence. We intend to compare those photographs with these to see if the evidence has been tampered with.'

Phillips went red. 'Hey, what the fuck?'

Anna Sherman told him to shut up. She said that if Phillips couldn't control himself he should go outside.

Phillips said, 'I know what he's saying and I don't like it. I run a clean house, goddammit.' He was purple.

Sherman said something to Bidwell and Bidwell led Phillips out.

They had me go through it again, Jonathan Green and Elliot Truly asking questions and the videographer and the sound tech recording me. Anna Sherman listened with her arms crossed, occasionally digging her heel into the floor and rocking her foot, and, like Green and Truly, occasionally asking more questions. Bidwell and Phillips came back, but this time Phillips kept his mouth shut and glowered at us from the corner. When I was done, Jonathan Green looked at Sherman again and said, 'We'll want these documents preserved, and we'll want to examine them as soon as practicable. We'll want the results of your fingerprint analysis, and then, of course, we'll want to do our own.'

Anna Sherman's jaw was tight. 'Of course.'

'Do you have anything more for Mr Cole?'

The criminalist said, 'I asked Cole for permission to take his prints. He said okay.'

Green nodded. 'Please do it now in our presence.' The criminalist broke out his fingerprint kit and had me sit on one of the dinette chairs. He took my prints quickly and professionally, then gave me a Handiwipe to clean off the ink. The videographer recorded every moment. I said, 'Don't you ever run out of tape?'

The sound tech laughed.

Green walked back to the couch, again examined the papers without touching them, then looked back at Sherman. 'You realize what we have here, don't you, Anna?' The patient father.

Anna Sherman did not respond. The pouty daughter.

Jonathan Green smiled. 'If you don't, Ms Sherman, I'm sure the district attorney will. Tell him I'll expect his call soon, if you would.'