“Is she in danger from the hepatitis?”
“Not unless her resistance gets bad and something else hits her. Hep A is generally self-limiting. That’s doctor-talk for goes away on its own.”
“Her eyes are still yellow,” said Petra.
“She came in… I’d guess four months ago. By six months, patients are usually better.”
“How do you catch it?”
“Poor sanitation.” Katzman paused. “Prostitutes and other promiscuous people are at risk if they engage in anal sex.”
“You figure Sandra for promiscuous?”
“She was flirtatious, but that’s all I can say.”
“During the time she was in the system,” said Petra, “how much money did she squeeze out?”
“I couldn’t begin to tell you.”
“The cousin,” said Petra. “What do you remember about her?”
“Quiet girl. Sandra was more outgoing, nice-looking kid, despite the jaundice. The cousin just sat there.”
“Was she about Sandra’s age?”
“Maybe a little younger.”
“Shorter than Sandra? Chubby? Curly reddish hair?”
Silence. “That sounds familiar.”
“Did she happen to wear pink sneakers?”
“Yes,” said Katzman. “Bright pink. I remember that.” He sounded amazed that the memory had returned.
Petra said, “What else can you tell me about their relationship?”
“I wasn’t noticing. I was concentrating on Sandra’s jaundice.”
Petra tensed; had she touched the girl that night in the parking lot?
“Would you consider her contagious, Doctor?”
“I wouldn’t exchange body fluids with a Hep A, but you’re not going to get it by shaking hands.”
“What can you tell me about the adult male who came with the girls?”
“All I remember is his dropping them off in the waiting room and leaving. I noticed because I’d stepped out to see a patient off. I was planning to have a talk with him- responsible adult and all that- but he was gone before I could turn around.”
“What’d he look like?” said Petra.
“All I really saw was his back.”
“You noticed his age,” said Petra. “In his forties.”
“Amend that to ‘middle aged.’ From the way he carried himself. Thirty to fifty.”
“What was he wearing?”
“Sorry,” said Katzman. “I’d be getting into the realm of fantasy.”
Lots of that going around. Petra said, “Would Loretta Brainerd know more about any of this?”
“I wouldn’t think so, but feel free to ask her.”
“Thanks, Doctor.”
“There is one thing,” said Katzman. “Sandra gave her age as fifteen, but my guess is she’s older. Closer to eighteen or nineteen. I can’t back that up scientifically; it’s just something that came to me after I realized I’d been conned. There was a certain… I wouldn’t say sophistication… a certain confidence.” He laughed. “About her confidence game.”
She called Brainerd. The social worker barely remembered Sandra Leon.
Hanging up, Petra thought back to the parking lot interview. The girl had just witnessed the violent death of her “cousin” but had displayed no shock, no grief, none of the emotionality you’d expect from a teenage girl confronted by tragedy. On the contrary, she’d been dry-eyed. Tapping her foot… impatient. As if Petra was taking up her precious time.
The only thing that had sparked anxiety in the girl’s eyes had been initial eye contact with Petra.
Cool about the homicide but nervous about the cops.
Claiming to be fifteen when she faked her patient status, but that night she’d given her age as sixteen.
Her dress and makeup fit with Katzman’s guess that she was older.
Dolled up fancier than the girl in the pink sneakers. Party garb, down to the appliqué mole. Celebrating what?
An adult male had accompanied both girls. Sandra had mentioned a convict brother, a car thief. Petra flipped through her notepad, found her hastily scrawled shorthand.
Bro. GTA. Lompoc.
She called the state prison, spoke to an assistant warden, learned that two “Leons” resided within the walls: Robert Leroy, age sixty-three, fraud and grand theft, and Rudolfo Sabino, age forty-five, manslaughter and mayhem. The warden was kind enough to check both inmates’ visitors’ lists. No one had been to see Rudolfo Leon for over three years. Sad case, he was HIV positive and suffering from dementia. The older man, Robert Leroy Leon, had a bevy of visitors but no Sandra, no one close to the girl in approximate age and appearance.
Another lie?
Sandra Leon had progressed, officially, from witness to Person of Interest.
Petra paged Mac Dilbeck and told him about the scam.
He said, “She knew the vic but wasn’t upset. So maybe she knew it was going to happen.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“Good work, Petra. Nothing else on this adult male?”
“Not yet. I’m wondering about something else. Leon quoted me her rights and I asked her if she had experience with the law. She told me a story about a brother locked up at Lompoc. Turns out to be another load of b.s., but why would she volunteer the information when it would tie her in with a criminal? Why not just dummy up?”
“Maybe your question threw her off,” said Mac. “She’s a liar but still in training. So she blurted out a half-truth, covered with a phony detail.”
“A relative in the system,” said Petra, “but not a brother. Maybe even a brother but not at Lompoc. That cancer scam was sophisticated, not the kind of thing a virgin would try. This girl’s had experience, I wonder if she’s part of a criminal enterprise- a family thing.”
“Some kind of gypsy thing? Like the Tinkers. Like those Somalians we busted last year. Yeah, why not? If there’s an Inmate Leon somewhere in the system for scamming, that would be really interesting.”
“Robert Leon’s locked up for fraud and theft but he’s too old to be her brother.”
“Interesting.”
“Maybe the murder’s related to some scam thing and the girl in the pink shoes was the intended victim,” she said. “They set it up to look like some gang thing. Sandra wasn’t freaked out because she knew.”
“Cold,” said Dilbeck. “Very cold. Okay, time to check the entire system, state and federal pens, even county jails.”
“Who’s going to do it?”
“You mind?”
“I’m doing it solo?”
“Well,” said Mac, “Montoya’s already been assigned a fresh case and the rest of my day is committed: meeting with the hotshots downtown. Gonna sit there while they explain why they’re so much smarter than we are. Course, if you want to trade places…”
“No, thanks,” said Petra. “I’ll go fetch my magic wand.”
She ran cons named Leon through NCIC and the rest of the data banks, came up with way too many hits. Time for a little logic. Sandra Leon had brought Katzman a letter from a clinic in Oakland, meaning she, or someone she knew, had spent some time there.
She focused on Bay Area Leons, which narrowed the search to twelve.
Two inmates- John B., twenty-five, Charles C., twenty-four- fit the brother age-range. Both were from Oakland and when she pulled up their stats, she knew she’d earned her share of the taxpayers’ money.
John’s middle name was “Barrymore,” and Charles’s was “Chaplin.”
Katzman’s take on Sandra: She’s a pretty good actress.
Then she learned that the men were brothers and allowed herself a grin.