Last Man's Head (17 page)

THIRTY-SIX

Perez looked down
at the screen. ‘
Carajo!
’ he exclaimed, eyes wide open.

‘Well? Does that change anything?’ Leroy asked.

The lieutenant straightened up, scratched his stubbly chin, and looked round, in the direction of Captain Patterson’s office. ‘Don’t see how it can, Sam. At the end of the day, there’s no real evidence of it being anything other than death by misadventure, in all three cases.’

Leroy’s voice went down to almost a whisper. ‘Roman, you gotta be kidding
.’

Perez put his hand up, palm towards Leroy. ‘Just accept it, Sam. And move on. That’s the decision by the DA, and people on a much bigger pay grade than you or me.’

Leroy looked back at the screen, then back up at Perez. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he persisted. ‘The house is owned by the fucking United States Secretary of Defence. How can you say -?’

‘Listen.’ Perez was beginning to get impatient. He was already dog tired. ‘This is the last time we will discuss this. Sure,
Secretary Davison owns the place, but he probably owns several. Was he there at the time? No, of course he wasn’t. The fact that you and Domingo followed some two bit hooker there means squat. Who’s to say the guy you spoke to there even knew about the car? And who was this guy anyway? Dwight Mason: he’s the Secretary’s General Counsel for Christ’s sake. Are you telling me that the Secretary of Defence is somehow pumping half naked men with drugs then leaving them on Hollywood Boulevard?’

‘Has happened before.’

Perez impatiently shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. ‘I don’t care about before. The Secretary has nothing to do with it. Maybe he was banging that hooker, but that hardly connects him, does it? How many johns did she see that night, anyway? She could have been on her way to see Mason.’

‘No, not Mason. I’ve read his biography.’ Leroy pointed to the screen.

‘Whatever. Case closed. Case closed. Understand?’

Leroy said nothing.

‘Do you understand, Detective?’

Leroy nodded his head. ‘Understood.’ He slowly leaned forward and exited Domingo’s email.

‘Good. Now get the hell down to the hospital and talk to that Palisades Beach survivor.’ Angrily, the lieutenant spun on his heels and walked back to his own office.

Leroy watched him leave, right till he could see his silhouette through the hammered glass walls return to his office and close the door. Took a deep breath and read through the folder the lieutenant had given him.

*****

Santa Monica
’s first hospital was founded in 1926 by two local physicians, Dr William S Mortensen and Dr August B Hromadka. In 1955 the hospital became part of UCLA Health, and today is part of the massive UCLA Medical Center. Specialising in Orthopaedic medicine, a limited amount of surgery, the Center also houses a small emergency room. The survivor of the attack was occupying one of the twenty-two beds here in the ER.

Leroy parked outside the main entrance, next to an LAPD patrol car. Immediately a figure in a blue and gold uniform appeared and asked for his car keys. Leroy had not noticed that there was valet parking here. He held up his badge and the valet backed off. Just at that moment, another vehicle pulled up, and the young man ran off to park that.

Slightly puzzled as to why a patrol car should be here, Leroy walked inside and made his way to the reception desk. A uniformed guard directed him to take a left and make his way to the Southwest wing, where the ER was situated. As he turned the last corner, he saw waiting by the elevators outside the ER door, a uniformed officer. She stood up on seeing him.

‘Detective Leroy?’ she asked.

He briefly held out his ID. ‘You were expecting me?’

‘Officer Lin. Yes, we had a message from a Lieutenant Perez asking for some back-up for you.’

He looked at her. ‘And you’re my back up?’

‘That’s right, Detective.’

‘Son of a bitch,’ Leroy muttered, looking around.

‘Excuse me, Detective?’

‘Nothing, er – Lin. Kind of a misunderstanding between the lieutenant and me.’ He nodded over to the ER doors. ‘She in there still?’

‘Yes, she’s asleep now, though. Should I get one of the staff to wake her?’

‘Best not. Not yet anyway. Did you get to talk to her?’

‘A little, yes.’

‘I’ve read the initial report. What did she tell you?’

Lin put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. ‘Well, she says she and her friend -’

‘Are they from around here? Or from out of town?’

‘Very out of town. They’re both from
Hamburg, Germany.’

‘
Great. You speak German, then?’

‘No
, Detective; she speaks English.’

‘Well, that helps. What did she tell you?’

‘They’re both booked in at the Holiday Inn Universal, and came here as part of a city tour. She said they had a half hour to spare before they had to be back at the bus, so took a walk through Palisades Park.’

‘Nice.’

‘They saw five or six transients standing around with some homemade signs saying something like
fuck me for $5 no change given
. She said two of them approached them and asked for five dollars. They said no, and walked off. At first the men stayed where they were, but then her friend turned and began to take pictures of them with their cells.’

‘Why on earth…?’

Lin shrugged. ‘They thought it was amusing. Part of Southern California life, maybe.’

‘Well, they got that right. Go on; what happened next?’

‘The two men began chasing them, soon caught up, and had them on the ground. There was a lot of screaming; there were other people in the park at the time, and by coincidence a black and white was passing along the beach road. When they heard the siren, the two men got up and tried to run off, but the officers from the black and white got them pretty soon. But when the girls got up, they were both covered in blood, just from cuts on the arms in this case, but the other had already lost a lot of blood from chest wounds. They brought them both here, but she died just after arrival in the ER.’

‘All right, Lin; thanks.’ He peered in the small windows of the ER door. ‘There’s no need to wake her, especially if she’s not in any danger. Take my number; give me a call on my cell when she wakes, and I’ll come back. That okay?’

‘Sure thing, Detective,’ Lin said, pocketing Leroy’s card. ‘You going to the crime scene now?’

‘I’ll have a brief look, then speak to the two suspects.’

‘I’ll come with you, shall I?’

‘No, it’s all right.’ Leroy moved his jacket slightly so she could see the butt of his service pistol. ‘You stay here with her; let me know when she wakes. I’ll see you later.’

‘Okay, Detective.’ Lin sat back down as Leroy walked back to the main entrance hall, and then to his car. As he got to the car, he looked around, thinking. There was not enough time to go home, so he pulled into 16
th
Street, then did a right onto Santa Monica Avenue. A ten block ride took him to the main public library. The small street level parking lot was full; a sign did direct him to a subterranean garage, but he decided to park on the red kerbed section of street right outside the library. He ran up the steps to the glass entrance doors, then took the elevator to the second floor, and the seventy public access internet stations.  He showed his identification to the white haired lady behind a semi-circular desk, and she gave him a temporary identification number and password.

Leroy found a vacant place, sat down and logged on. Checked his watch. Once he got to the welcome screen, he moved the cursor to Google, and clicked. Once the next screen appeared, he typed in the name, and sat back and waited.

There were a lot of entries for Secretary George Davison.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Leroy clicked on
the first entry. There were only three lines of sketchy biography. The second entry had far more. He got himself a cup of water from the cooler nearby and sat down to read.

Personal Details

Born –
George Henry Davison

August 1
st
, 1950

Flagstaff
, Arizona 

Political party – Democrat

Spouse – Barbara LaHood (m. 1975)

Alma mater –
Northern Arizona University

Trinity
College, Oxford, England

Profession – Attorney

Religion – Roman Catholic

Siblings - One

Political Offices

Chairman of Senate Indian Affairs

Chairman of Senate Aging Committee

US Secretary of Defence

Early Life and education

Davison
was born in Flagstaff, Arizona, one of four sons.  His mother, Alice (née Adams), was of Catholic Irish ancestry, and his father, Henry Davison managed a restaurant.

While in high school, Davison was a basketball player and was named to the Arizona all-state high school team.

Legal, academic, and early political life

After graduating,
Davison returned to Flagstaff and earned partnership in a local law firm. He became assistant county attorney for Coconino County. He was elected to Flagstaff City Council and served as Flagstaff mayor for one year.

Leroy stretched and nodded slightly. He knew a little about Secretary Davison from the media. This was nothing new.  He continued reading.

House of Representatives and Senate

After serving one term as Mayor,
Davison won a seat in the US House of Representatives, succeeding fellow Democrat Alan Clay, who was elected to the US Senate.

During his time in Congress, Davison was one of the first to break with his party, and voted for the impeachment of President Bill Clinton.

After two terms in the House, Davison was elected to the US Senate, defeating Alan Clay in his first bid for re-election. He was re-elected himself twice, and served a total of 15 years in the Senate.

While in the Senate, he served on the Senate Armed Services Committee. During the Iraq War, he was highly critical of President Bush but was hesitant to call for an immediate and complete pull-out. He announced that he favoured withdrawing most of the US forces from Iraq and leaving a small force in the Northern region for a limited period. While acknowledging that a withdrawal would lead to more violence, he felt that it would be the only way for the Iraqi government to take control of their country.

After retiring from the Senate, Davison was appointed by the President to the position of Secretary of Defence.  One of his first major duties as Secretary of Defence was to present to Congress the Fiscal Year Defence budget, which had been prepared under Secretary Bryant. Davison requested a budget of $255.2 billion, which represented 3 percent of the nation’s estimated domestic product. Davison stressed three top budget priorities: people (recruiting…..

He stretched again, and rubbed the back of his neck. All this was very interesting, but was not really relevant to what he was looking for.

International relations and situations

As he settled into office,
Davison faced the question of the expansion of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, which he supported, and its relationship to Russia. At a summit meeting between the President and Russian President Putin, Putin acknowledged the inevitability of broader NATO membership. Two months later he agreed, after negotiations with NATO officials, to sign an accord providing for a new permanent council, to include Russia, the NATO secretary general, and a representative of the other NATO nations, to function as a forum in which Russia could air a wide range of security issues that concerned that country

Social issues

Finally,
Davison had to address social issues that engaged the widest public interest. These issues included the status and treatment of lesbian and gays in the military, the role of woman in combat as well as in other jobs in the services, racism, and sexual harassment.

He had read enough. He was not sure exactly what he was expecting to find, but all this information was public domain stuff, and didn’t help. But it gave him a better understanding of what
Davison was about.

But not why a hooker would be rushing back to a house he owned in
California. In fact, from the biographical detail, there was no California connection. His entire life seemed to be centred around three locations: Flagstaff, Arizona; Oxford, England; Washington, DC.

He leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. Why would a politician working on the East Coast own a mansion here? Maybe if it was a beach property: somewhere in
Malibu maybe, looking out to the ocean – that he could understand, but a secluded property off Mulholland Drive: he failed to see the attraction.

He checked the time at the corner of the screen: time to get back to work. This would have to be homework. He logged off, made a quick restroom stop, and returned to his car.

Five minutes later, he pulled up on Ocean Avenue behind a patrol car. He watched as an articulated bus slowly made a left from Washington Avenue, holding up traffic in the process. In the park, an area of grass about thirty yards square was still taped off, and two officers were standing by the tape. Leroy walked over the grass to join them. He recognised both of the officers.

‘Guys,’ he greeted them.

‘Detective,’ they both responded.

‘I take it the forensic guys have finished here?’

The first officer nodded. ‘Yes; they both left twenty minutes ago.’

‘Why the tape
, then?’

‘They said you were coming over, and to leave the tape until you’d had the chance to look.’

‘I see,’ said Leroy, amused. ‘As if I would find anything else.’ He stepped under the tape. ‘Where exactly did it happen?’

‘In the centre
here,’ said one of the officers, joining him inside the tape. There was very little sign of anything, apart from the flattening of the grass where people had been standing.

Leroy knelt down. ‘No sign of blood,’ he said, looking up at the officer.

‘Apparently most of it got soaked up by the victim’s clothes. She was lying on her back and the wound was in her front.’

‘Are you two the ones who were here at the time?’

‘No; they took the suspects back for questioning.’

Leroy looked around, then stood up.  ‘Do you know about any other witnesses?’

‘As far as I know, just the woman the victim was with. There were some passers-by, but they had all moved on by the time anyone realised she had been stabbed.’

‘The other transients? I take it there were more than two here.’

‘Sorry, Detective, I don’t know. It was all over by the time we arrived. We were just ordered to stay here until you had cleared the scene.’

‘I’ll ask when I go talk to the suspects.’ Leroy turned and looked out to the ocean. The sun was high in the sky now, its light being reflected off the water. He squinted, and put on a pair of sun glasses. Through the shades, he could make out some boats on the water. A helicopter was flying north, parallel with the coast. It seemed peaceful, apart from the sound of traffic travelling along the
Pacific Coast Highway underpass.

He turned back to the officer. ‘You can remove the tape now,’ he said. ‘I’m done here.’

‘Sure thing, Detective,’ the officer replied, and began winding up the tape. Leroy walked back to his car, looking around the park. Whilst not particularly busy, there were still several people wandering around the park. In spite of the traffic sound, it still seemed peaceful; after all these years, Leroy still found violent crime incongruous with such a location. Across the street was a branch of Wells Fargo bank: Leroy remembered having to attend the bank after a robbery homicide eighteen months or so back. Three masked raiders, heavily armed, forced the staff and customers in a corner at gunpoint, and proceeded to empty the safe. One customer foolishly tried to tackle one of the raiders, and was hit in the chest almost at point blank range. In the commotion afterwards, the security guard tried the same thing, and was killed as well, this time with the addition of a single shot to the back of his head, execution style. It was always the same with robbery homicide: once one person was down, the raiders would have nothing to lose.

Leroy turned back to the car; just as
he opened the door, his phone rang. It was Medical Examiner Hobson.

‘Hey there, Russell,’ said Leroy, as he climbed back into his car.

‘Hey, Sam. Where are you right now?’ Russell asked.

‘Over at
Santa Monica. A stabbing.’

‘Ah, yes; the two women. Look, Sam: I need you to get over here.’

‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Nothing had happened. Not today, anyway. I just need to show you something. It has
a bearing on the John Does.’

‘Can’t really right now, Russell. For one thing, I have two suspects to interview; and for another, all the John Doe
cases have been closed.’

‘Yes, I know they’ve been closed, but something’s come to light.’

‘Come to light? What do you mean?’

‘I was just finishing up one of the bodies, when I noticed something. I went back to the others, and found the same thing.’

‘And that was?’

‘On each of them, on the left foot, between two of the toes, was a needle mark.’

Leroy sat up. ‘A needle mark?’

‘Yes, so tiny, so hidden between the toes, that they got missed.’

‘So where does that leave us?’

‘Maybe not much, maybe a lot. But the angle of the mark would make it difficult for someone to self inject. They seem to come up from below the foot. Something like a forty-five degree angle.’ There was a pause. ‘You there, Sam?’

‘Yes, Russ, still here. Was just thinking. That must be the way the drug cocktail got into their systems.’

‘Probably, yes.’

‘And there was no way they could have injected themselves?’

‘Not no way, but unlikely, in my opinion. So before you ask: I think these men didn’t die as a result of misadventure. I think they were murdered.’