Sunset Express

Jonathan's front entry was open, and, as we approached, we could see that his home was crowded. I said, 'Prepare to be stared at.'

She glanced at me. 'Why?'

'You'll be the most beautiful woman there.'

She hooked her arm through mine.

'In the most beautiful dress.'

She squeezed my arm. I'm such a charmer.

A news crew from Channel Eight had lights set up on Jonathan's front lawn and was interviewing a well-known figure who had starred in a hit television series in the early seventies, and who now ran a major studio. Lucy said, 'Isn't he somebody?'

'Yep.' He was well known for his efforts as an active fund raiser for private social programs and had received humanitarian-of-the-year awards twice, in large part because Teddy Martin had contributed heavily to his causes. He was less well known for the violent, hair-trigger temper that he has frequently shown toward the young men whom he supplies with heroin.

As we passed, he was telling the reporter, 'I've known from the beginning that Teddy is innocent, and this proves it. Teddy has been a force for good in our community for years. He's stood by us, and now it's our turn to stand by him. I can't understand why the district attorney has this vendetta.' Other reporters were spread through the crowd, interviewing other supporters.

The entry was wide and long and opened onto a great room that flowed outside through a line of French doors. The floors were Spanish tile and the decor was western, with plenty of rich woods and bookshelves and oil paintings of cattle and horses. An original Russell hung over a great stone fireplace. Behind the French doors were a pool and a pool house and, still farther back, a tennis court. Maybe a half-dozen of Kerris's security people were standing around, trying to be unobtrusive and not having a lot of luck at it. The grounds were lush and dramatically lit, and waiters and waitresses moved through the crowd, offering wine and canapes. Maybe three hundred people were drifting through the house and around the pool. Lucy said, 'This is beautiful.'

I nodded. 'Crime pays.'

'Oh. There's Jonathan.'

Green was near the fireplace, talking with a couple of men in dark suits and a together-looking woman in her late fifties. One of the men was tall and thin, with little round spectacles and a great forehead and bulging Adam's apple. Intense. As we approached, he said, 'LAPD has an entrenched white male racist attitude that is impervious to change. I'm telling you that the time is right to simply abolish them.'

The together woman said, 'That's a non-issue, Willis. Angela Rossi is a white female.'

Willis jabbed the air. Agitated. 'And as such must subjugate herself to the dominant white male racist attitudes that surround her. Don't you see that?'

The together woman said, 'But LAPD is over fifty percent women and minority now, and the percentage is increasing.'

Willis's eyes bulged. 'But is it increasing fast enough to save us? My God, we're living in a virtual police state! If it could happen to Teddy, it could happen to any of us!'

Jonathan saw me and offered his hand, looking not altogether unhappy to shut Willis off. 'Everyone, I'd like to introduce Elvis Cole, an integral member of the team.'

Willis's eyes lit up and he grabbed my hand. 'Great to meet you. You're the one who nailed that fascist bitch.'

The together woman drew a deep breath and Lucy said, 'Please don't refer to any women by that word in my presence.' She said it politely.

Willis stepped back and held up his hands. 'Oh, hey, I apologize. Really. But these cops have just gone over the line, and I'm so frustrated.'

The together woman said, 'You're such a hog.'

Jonathan introduced us. The woman was Tracy Man-nos, the station manager from Channel Eight. Willis was a writer for a local alternative weekly, the L.A.Fieak.

When Green was finished introducing me, I introduced Lucy. She said, 'It's a pleasure, Mr Green.'

He smiled warmly and took her hand. 'Please call me Jonathan. I understand that you're an attorney.'

She nodded. 'I practice civil law, but your cases have been inspirational. Especially the Williams case in nineteen seventy-two.' He was still holding her hand.

'That's a lovely accent. Where are you from?' He patted her hand.

' Louisiana.'

'Well, perhaps we'll have the pleasure of working together some time.'

He patted her hand again, and I said, 'Jonathan, I'd like to see you.'

As I said it, Kerris appeared behind Jonathan and whispered something. Jonathan stared at me as Kerris spoke, and then Jonathan nodded at me. 'I have to see the others for a moment. Why don't you come along?'

I left Lucy with Tracy Mannos and followed Jonathan through his house to an office that was the size of my living room. Elliot Truly was there, along with the larger of the lesser attorneys and two men who looked vaguely familiar. One of them was tall and hard and African-American. When Kerris closed the door, I said, 'Jonathan, I saw the statement you made this afternoon. What's going on with Louise Earle?'

Jonathan spread his hands. 'I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean.'

'She's changed her story. She didn't implicate Rossi when I talked to her.'

Kerris said, 'Guess you got it wrong.' He had drifted to the wall behind Jonathan so he could lean. Every time I saw him he was leaning. Guess it wore the guy out carrying all those shoulders and arms.

'I cleared Rossi, and now you're attacking her. You made it sound like I'm behind it.'

No one said anything for a moment, and then Jonathan spread his hands. 'Angela Rossi found the murder weapon when she went down the slope to Susan's body. She hid it on her person, then planted it on Teddy's property in order to frame him for Susan's murder. She was hoping that if she was credited with solving such a high-profile case, her career would be resuscitated.' He smiled at me. 'It's as simple as that.'

I looked at Truly and Kerris and the two other guys. That's nuts.'

Kerris crossed the arms. He was so wide that maybe he was twins who didn't quite separate. 'What's your problem? Everyone thinks you're a hero.'

I stared at him. 'What's going on?'

Jonathan shook his head.

'How'd you get Mrs Earle to change her story?'

Jonathan smiled the way you smile when you're incredulous. 'Excuse me. Are you accusing me of tampering with evidence?'

Kerris said, 'Good thing for us that I double-checked your work. Here everyone thinks that you're some kind of top-dog investigator, and the truth is you suck.'

Jonathan frowned. 'Please, Stan. There's no need to be insulting.'

Kerris kept the empty eyes my way. 'He sucks. I'm with the woman five minutes and she breaks down, telling me she's terrified, telling me she's wanted someone to help her for damn near six years because those cops framed her son, then threatened her into keeping her mouth shut.'

Everyone was so still that they might have been a fresco. Elliot Truly had a kind of idiot half-grin. He glanced away when I looked at him. I said, 'James Lester is a fraud.'

Truly was shaking his head before I finished. 'That's not true. I should've said something about him when you mentioned Langolier at the jail, but I didn't know how Jonathan wanted to handle it.'

Jonathan glared at him.

I took the fax from my pocket and tossed it at Jonathan. 'James Lester is an alias. James Lester is a convicted felon named Stuart Langolier. Truly knew him.'

Jonathan didn't touch the fax. 'This is my fault. You're used to working on small cases and this is a large case, and I should've briefed you on our meetings. Then you wouldn't think we're keeping things from you.'