“Got to be Baker,” said Milo.
“I'm sure you're right,” said Daniel, very grim. “Liora told Zev the man made her feel uncomfortable. Too friendly, just sitting there when he should have been in the briefing. But she said nothing. That's Liora's style. Then, somehow, the officer turned it into something inappropriate. Sexually.”
“He came on to her?”
“Not explicitly, Milo. But Liora said the connotation was clear. At that point, she got up and walked away. Later, she told Zev and he went- how do you say- ballistic. Complained to the mayor and was told the officer would be removed from parade detail and disciplined.”
“Moved downtown. But he wasn't demoted,” I said. “Still, maybe that's why for all his alleged brainpower he's still a sergeant.”
“Baker,” said Milo, punching his fist. “That son of a whore- so he knew Irit by sight. Knew she was deaf.”
Daniel looked pained. “But to kill someone- a child- over that-”
“Think of it as a tracer bullet,” said Milo. “After the Ortiz boy's murder went off perfectly, Baker and the other New Utopia assholes decided someone else was gonna die, it didn't really matter who, as long as it was someone they judged to be a life not worth living. Alex told me before that despite all the eugenics bullshit, this boils down to killing for fun. What greater fun for Baker than revenge? Mrs. C. rejects him, Mr. C. gets him disciplined, and their daughter just happens to be handicapped. It must have seemed like karma to the bastard. When I knew him, he was into Eastern religions, talked a lot about karma.”
Daniel slumped, stared past us, into the kitchen.
“What?” said Milo.
“It's… disgusting. All of it's disgusting.”
“Each murder has a connection to someone in the group,” I said. “Ponsico and Zena, Raymond and Tenney, Irit and Baker. Nolan Dahl helped with Irit- Baker training him in all sorts of things. And I'll bet Latvinia was one of Dahl's playmates. Maybe Baker's, too. To them, a dark-skinned girl with handicaps was something to be used and thrown away. Baker could have killed her for fun, or because she knew about him and Nolan. Or both. Probably both.”
“And Melvin Myers?” said Daniel.
“He got on the wrong side of someone in the group,” I said. “Someone downtown. Baker or Lehmann?”
Looking into the backpack, Daniel removed a handful of papers and took out a color brochure. I examined it with him.
“The Central City Skills Center: For Fifteen Years, a Citadel of Hope.” The photos showed blind people walking with guide dogs and operating computers, smiling amputees trying on prosthetic limbs.
The course list: sewing, crafts, mechanical assembly. A small-print list of funding sources was followed by a smaller-print professional advisory board. Doctors, lawyers, politicians…
Alphabetized.
Near the middle: Roone Lehmann, Ph.D., psychological consultant.
“Working with the handicapped,” I said. “Must have given him a laugh. But maybe he got a bigger laugh playing financial games with the school. Taking candy from blind babies.”
Milo hurried over and read the roster. “Myers discovers Lehmann ripping off the school and threatens to write an exposÉ. Maybe he tells Lehmann, even blackmails him, because one thing Myers doesn't lack is gall. Lehmann agrees to pay him off, calls a meet in that alley and someone- probably Baker- finishes Myers off.”
He took the brochure from Daniel.
“The murders,” said the Israeli, “are their way of mixing business with pleasure.”
“The only problem is,” Milo told him, “all we've got is theory. Because the only thing close to evidence- the Polaroids of Nolan Dahl's play-dates- were destroyed. Even if we find Tenney's van in Zena's garage, I have nothing that justifies a warrant.”
“What would it take,” I said, “to move on any of them?”
“A full confession would be peachy, but I'll settle for an incriminating remark. Anything that lets us focus on one of them- a weak link.”
“That might be Zena. She spouts the eugenics line but it seems like role-playing. I'm not saying she's harmless. But so far, she's been less interested in politics than in partying. I have a date with her tonight at ten. Maybe I can get her to open up more about NU. Maybe eventually she can be made to see it's in her best interests to give up the others.”
Milo frowned. “Don't know about the date, Alex. Tenney did make eye contact with you a couple of times and even though you don't think Baker recognized you, you're not sure.”
“Tenney doesn't know me,” I said, “so he's got no reason to suspect me of anything. He's probably just an antisocial guy. What would he tell Baker? Zena's got a new boyfriend? And if I break the date wouldn't that make Zena wonder?”
“Old Andy's a heartbreaker. He changed his mind.”
“Then what?” I said. “Where do you go from there?”
No answer.
“Milo, the one good thing about these people being so arrogant is they have no idea they're under suspicion. On the contrary, they're probably gloating that everything's gone off smashingly. Five murders, all unsolved. They're getting cocky. That's why the pace has picked up. Think of what you said: half the city and all of the Valley. Thousands of handicapped people who can't be protected.”
“And your date tonight is gonna change all that?” he barked.
“At least it's a connection to NU. Maybe Zena will tell me something important. At the very least, you can pull her in and lean on her a little. I repeat: What else is there?”
Longer silence.
“All right,” he said. “One more time, but that's it. After tonight, you're out of it and we shift gears, go for full surveillance on Baker and Lehmann, keep Daniel's New York people stuck to Sanger and Cranepool, get a look at Zena's garage. If Tenney's van is in there and he splits like you think he's planning to, I'll use Baker's technique. Stop the bastard for a traffic violation and take it from there.”
“Where does Baker live?” said Daniel.
“A boat in the marina called Satori.” I described the location of the slip.
“Satori,” he said. “Heavenly tranquility.”
“The bastard's a pro,” Milo told him. “Did Vice work and robbery undercover, meaning he understands surveillance.”
“So I need to be careful,” said Daniel.
“Start with being careful tonight, friend. I want both of us covering Alex nonstop from the time he sets out to romance Little Ms. Murder til he gets home. A post on her street and another on the hillside behind the house.”
“I can do the hillside,” said Daniel.
“You're sure?”
“I've done climbing in Israel. Caves in the Judean Desert.”
“Recently?”
Daniel smiled and flopped the dead hand. “Recently. One accommodates. Contrary to what our NU friends believe, life goes on for all kinds of people.”
“Fine. Where you sleeping tonight, Alex?”
“Might as well go home,” I said.
“I'll follow you.” He faced Daniel. “After that, you and I meet back here.”
53
On Saturday, Daniel slept from 4:00 A.M. to 8:00, awoke, put on fresh jeans, loafers, a black T-shirt, and his best sportcoat, a black serge Hugo Boss jacket given to him by his mother-in-law last Chanukah. After buying a morning paper, he drove to Marina del Rey, where he walked through the Marina Shores Hotel and out to the harbor.