“Massengil. Whodunit. Think there’s any relationship to Holly? Or Novato and Gruenberg?”
“Who the hell knows, Alex? What’re you trying to do, make me feel downright impotent?”
I said nothing, pulled up in front of the house.
He said, “All right, what’s on your mind?”
“Maybe someone avenged her.”
“Who? Daddy?”
“I wasn’t thinking of him. Why? Do you suspect him?”
“I don’t suspect anything, Alex. Haven’t had time to suspect. It’s not even my fucking case anymore so why should I bother to suspect? But if you’re talking revenge, revenge is usually a family thing. And you told me Burden’s a nut.”
“Not a nut. Narcissistic.”
“Revenge is pretty narcissistic, isn’t it? Playing God, power over life and death. You told me yourself he’s a control freak. Bragged about being good with guns.”
I thought about that. “Planning to talk to him?”
“I’m not talking to anybody. Per the slick fuck.”
“You can’t challenge him?”
He didn’t answer and I regretted asking.
I said, “Permit me a bit more theorizing?”
“Stop asking permission as if I’m some sort of prima donna and just spit it out.”
“When I mentioned revenge, I was thinking of something else. The cabal. Other members. Setting out to avenge her. And carry out the assignment that she failed to complete.”
“Assignment? Alex, if you were serious about political assassination, would you assign someone like her to do it?”
“Granted we’re talking the amateur hour,” I said. “But competence isn’t always the rule of thumb for those kinds of groups, is it? Look at the Symbionese Liberation Army.”
“Ye olde Crispy Critters,” he said. “Yeah, those guys weren’t too swift.”
“But they got famous, didn’t they? Which is what amateurs are after. High profile and a romantic death.”
“If death is romantic, I’m a fucking poet.”
“Holly had a dreary life, Milo. No present, no future. Belonging to a fringe group could have given her purpose. Going out in a blaze of glory might not have looked bad at all.”
“You’re saying she was on a suicide mission?”
“No. But she might not have worried about the risks.”
“A group thing, huh?” he said. “Back to the ninjas. So who killed Novato and disappeared Gruenberg?”
“Maybe that was a dope thing. Or maybe it was the opposition. Right-wing radicals.”
“Two groups of assholes?”
“Why not? Now that you mention it, it brings to mind something I just read scribbled in one of Novato’s books: ‘Same old story: power and money, no matter what wing.’ Maybe what he was referring to was political extremism- and he was becoming disillusioned.”
Milo said, “KKK assholes versus commie scumbags? Very colorful. But before you get carried away, don’t forget that what happened tonight could have had nothing to do with politics- just some jealous john. This could all be related to Cheri. Guys get attached to these girls- it happens more than you’d imagine. Or maybe it was political but had nothing to do with Holly, or Novato, or Gruenberg. Massengil was not Mr. Charm. Could be one of his disgruntled constituents set out to vote with his trigger finger.”
“Not Mr. Charm,” I said, “but popular enough to last twenty-eight years.”
“So much for the incumbency advantage.” A moment later: “I don’t know, Alex. What’s been going on is so weird I don’t even want to apply logic, because when I do, I start doubting the value of logic. One thing you can take comfort in: Your hunch about there being something funny between Massengil and Dobbs was right on.”
I said; “Sloppy seconds. Management consulting. Great way to launder Cheri’s fees.”
“What do you think about what she said- politicos and bondage?”
“Makes sense psychologically. Like you once said, politicians mainline power. For some of them, sex would be just another dominance game. What would be interesting to find out is who else, either here or in Sacramento, was aware of Massengil’s kinks. Who besides Dobbs knew Massengil was carrying on with Cheri. And maybe there were other Cheris. The guy Massengil slugged in the Assembly- DiMarco- would be someone to talk to. What if he found out about it and leaked it- another kind of revenge. Or took a more direct route.”
“Shot them himself?”
“Burr shot Hamilton. White shot Milk and Moscone.”
“Shit,” he said. “All sorts of ways to go. That’s why I wanted to get her down to the station and lean on her some more. I tried to tell Frisk about it, tell him what needed to be done to keep the investigation clean. But he just cut me off. Said ‘Thank you, Detective, everything’s under control.’ As in: Fuck you. I don’t need your faggot ideas.” Milo shook his head. “Fuck it, it’s not my problem. I wash my hands of it. Hate press conferences anyway.”
Saying it too loud and too fast; I wasn’t sure I believed him. That he believed it himself. But this was no time to argue.
28
Linda had phoned and left a message at ten: Just called to say hi. Be up until eleven thirty.
It was close to one, and though I wanted to talk to her, I decided to do it in the morning.
I was wound up. Sensory overload. Not ready to tackle the kind of stuff Ike Novato had chosen to read about. TV would be reruns of movies that shouldn’t have been produced in the first place, and hucksters pitching cellulite cures and eternal salvation. I did a half hour on the skiing machine, showered, then hobbled into bed and fell asleep.
I woke up thinking about the kids at Hale and called Linda at seven-thirty. She had already heard about Massengil’s murder on the early morning newscast. The newscaster hadn’t mentioned anything about a woman being involved. I told her about Sheryl Jackson.
“My God, what’s happening, Alex?”
“I wish I knew.”
“Could there be some connection with the sniping?”
“The way things are going, we may never find out.” I recounted how Frisk had kicked Milo off the case.
“Another politician,” I said. “This must be our year for them.”
She said, “Year of the Rat. What should I do about the kids, Alex? In terms of Massengil?”
“The main thing to look out for is their attributing Massengil’s death to something they did- or something they thought. Children- and the younger they are, the truer this is- sometimes equate thinking with doing. They have to be aware of Massengil’s attitude toward them: They may have seen him on TV or heard their parents discussing what a bad person he was. If they wished him harm, or even death, they may get it in their heads that those wishes are what killed him.”
“Step on a crack, break Mama’s back.”
“Exactly. Also, over the next few days the media will probably turn Massengil into some kind of hero. He’s not going to seem like a bad guy anymore. That could be confusing.”
“A hero?” she said. “Even with the hooker?”
“The fact that they haven’t yet gone public with the hooker may mean they intend to keep that part of it under wraps. Frisk trades in secrets. He’d make a deal like that if it was in his best interests.”
She paused, then said, “Okay. So I should make sure to disconnect their thoughts about Massengil from what happened to him.”
“And from the sniping.”
“Should I do it as an assembly or have the teachers handle it class by class?”
“Class by class to accommodate the different developmental levels. I can come over right now, if you’d like.”
“No,” she said. “Thanks anyway. But I’d like to try this myself. In the long run, I’m the one who’ll have to deal with it.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
“But,” she said, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you after school.”
“How about seven? Your place?”