Sunset Express

'I don't know.'

Sherman called Green's business manager again and demanded to know where Teddy housed the jet. She was yelling, and the business manager probably got his nose out of joint because of it, and he probably made the mistake of asking if she had a court order. Sherman went ballistic. Her face turned purple and a webwork of veins stood out on her forehead, and Gibbs said, 'Lord, Anna. You'll have a stroke.'

Anna Sherman shouted into the phone that if the business manager didn't cooperate she would have him arrested within the hour for accessory after the fact and conspiracy. It worked. The business manager told her, and Anna Sherman repeated the information as he gave it. 'Van Nuys airport. Skyway Aviation.' She also repeated a phone number, which Dan Tomsic copied.

Gibbs, Tomsic, Rossi, and I watched Anna Sherman dial Skyway, identify herself, and ask to speak with whoever was in charge. Mrs Earle was watching, too, but you could tell that it wasn't as important to her. Bidwell was arranging a ride back to the hospital for her. The Skyway manager came on the line, and Anna Sherman identified herself again. She asked as to the status of Theodore Martin's Citation jet, then asked several follow-up questions. We knew the answers from her expression. Lincoln Gibbs yelled, 'That sonofabitch!' and kicked the couch. Tomsic sat and put his face in his hands, as if he'd played a long, close game and given it everything and lost in the end. After maybe six minutes Anna Sherman hung up and looked at us with an ashen, strained face. 'Theodore Martin boarded his airplane at approximately eleven-forty this morning, and the jet departed at exactly eleven-fifty-five. His pilot filed a typical IFR flight plan to Rio de Janeiro.' Anna Sherman sat in her chair with her hands in her lap and put her head back. 'He's gone.'

Mrs Louise Earle looked as if she was about to cry. 'Did I do something wrong?'

Angela Rossi stared at her for a moment, then put her arm around Mrs Earle's shoulders. 'No, ma'am. No, you didn't. He just left. It happens all the time.'

Sherman took a deep breath, then sat forward and picked up the phone again. Only this time there wasn't any urgency to it. 'I'll notify the FBI and ask them to speak to the State Department. He's still in the air. Maybe we can work something out with the Brazilians.'

Bidwell said, 'We don't have reciprocal extradition with Brazil.'

Sherman snapped, 'Maybe we can work something out.'

I said, 'You going to do anything about Green?'

Anna Sherman stared at me for maybe six seconds, then she put down the phone. 'Oh, yes. Yes, I'm definitely going to do something about Mr Green.'

Bidwell said, 'You want to file an arrest warrant?'

Anna Sherman was looking at Angela Rossi. 'Yes, we'll file an arrest warrant. I saw Judge Kelton downstairs. Look him up and have it signed.' Arrest warrants had to be signed by a judge.

Bidwell started toward the door. 'I'll call Green's office and set it up. How much time do you want to give him to turn himself in?' Often in cases like this, the attorney is notified that a warrant has been issued and is allowed to turn himself in.

Anna Sherman shook her head, still looking at Angela Rossi. 'To hell with that. We're going to go over there and arrest his ass.'

Angela Rossi smiled. So did everyone else.

I said, 'You guys mind if I tag along?'

Lincoln Gibbs was pacing now. Grinning and anxious to take action, sort of like a leopard sensing that a hunt was on. 'No sweat.'

Rossi wanted to come, too, but Lincoln Gibbs told her no. She was still suspended, and an administrative action could be taken against her for violating her suspension.

Sherman and Bidwell made their calls and drafted their documents, and one hour and ten minutes later they were ready to pay a visit to Mr Jonathan Green, Attorney to the Stars. Mrs Louise Earle had already been returned to the hospital. Rossi walked out with us, but in the lobby she had to go one way and we another. A radio car was going to take her home.

Rossi put out her hand and we shook. 'I want to thank you.'

'No problem.'

'No, I mean it.'

'I understand.'

'I'll call Joe.'

I said, 'So long, Rossi.'

We smiled at each other and then she walked away.

Gibbs and Tomsic and I crowded into Anna Sherman's car and drove to Jonathan Green's office on Sunset Boulevard. A couple of uniforms in a radio car followed us. A district attorney almost never accompanied the police on an arrest, but then neither did freelance private eyes. I guess this was just too good to pass up.

We double-parked in front of his building, jamming up the west-bound flow on Sunset, and walked in past the receptionist and the security guys in their blazers. A blond security guy with a red face tried to make a deal about stopping us to see the warrant, but Dan Tomsic said, 'You've gotta be kidding,' and motioned at the uniforms to walk the guy out of the way.

We took the elevator up to the fourth floor and Sherman said, 'You've been here before. Which way?'

I showed them to Green's office. Green had not been notified of Elliot Truly's death, nor of the deaths of his other people, nor had it yet hit the news. As we walked through the halls, lawyers and legal assistants and secretaries and clerks appeared in their doors. Jonathan Green's secretary stood as we approached, and I said, 'Knock knock knock, Chicken Delight!'

She looked at Anna Sherman. 'May I help you?'

Anna Sherman said, 'No.' We trooped past the secretary and through the door and into Green's office. Green and the two lesser attorneys and the videographer and three people I'd never seen before were seated around his conference table with their jackets off and their sleeves rolled. The videographer and his sound tech were seated in the background, the camera on the floor, sipping coffee and talking between themselves. Guess there's only so much you can do with endless footage of lawyers sitting around tables. Jonathan Green looked at us without a great deal of surprise and said, 'Doors are made for knocking.'

I said, 'Not bad. I was kinda hoping you'd say, "What's the meaning of this?'"

Anna Sherman smiled sweetly. 'Sorry for the intrusion, Jonathan. But we're here to arrest you on the charges of tampering with evidence, obstruction of justice, conspiracy to commit murder, and murder.'

The videographer's eyes got big and his jaw dropped. I waved at his camera. 'Better turn it on. You don't want to miss this.' The videographer jumped across the sound tech for his camera, spilling both his coffee and hers.

Anna Sherman turned to Lincoln Gibbs. 'Lieutenant, please inform Mr Green of his rights and take him into custody.'

Lt. Lincoln Gibbs handed the warrant forms to Jonathan, then recited his rights. Jonathan didn't interupt, and didn't bother to examine the forms. He sat with a kind of half-smile, as if he had anticipated these events. Maybe he had. When Gibbs finished with the rights, he said, 'Would you stand, sir? I have to handcuff you.' Polite.

Jonathan submitted without complaint. He said, 'Anna, this is the most flagrant case of judicial manipulation I've ever seen. I'll have you before the bar for this.'

Anna Sherman said, 'Teddy Martin has jumped bail and is on his way to Brazil. Elliot Truly, Stan Kerris, and two other men in your employ are dead. Elliot Truly supplied a dying declaration implicating you in the manufacture of false evidence, as well as the murder of James Lester and the kidnapping of Louise Earle.'

Jonathan Green said, 'That's absurd. I don't know what you're talking about.' He angled his face toward the camera when he said it.