A Killing in China Basin (21 page)

He entered China Basin on Third Street and then found a place to park and wait. The light was off in the apartment where Inspector Raveneau lived. Raveneau’s car wasn’t in the fenced lot. If Raveneau came home and if the opportunity showed itself, he’d do it, but for now he reclined his seat, plugged in his iPod, and waited.

FORTY-SEVEN

H
eilbron watched the same weird late night press conference with Stoltz. He squatted in front of the TV looking for the inspectors, but the clip was short and it was only the Stoltz guy. What was with this? Trippy fucking dude and definitely up to something. Definitely in-your-face-type angry, but sounding like he was all rational and reasonable about what had gone on. The newscaster came and Heilbron waited for him to talk about the investigation and Inspector la Rosa. Instead, they skipped to weather and he reached for the remote and went through the other local news, but there was nothing.

Time to check out the night. He left the TV on low and killed the other lights in the house. He watched from a window for a while, then went out the back and to the van. He had a bike in the van, chained so that it stood up. For three days he’d been home and not seen the inspectors, though their cards were in the door. He only kept la Rosa’s card. He had four of hers now and cleaned out an Altoids tin to store them in. Four of her in the little tin box. Four was his lucky number. Of course, if it was really her she would need a bigger box and he’d have to take the bike out of the van for the box to have room. Then he’d be chillin’ with Inspector Elizabeth la Rosa. Driving around or maybe he would drive somewhere special with her that wouldn’t get figured out for a very long time. He drove sort of dreaming of what that would feel like.

He liked the way it felt to think of it, but it was still crazy what he’d done going to the Hall of Justice that morning instead of going to work. He couldn’t believe he did it. But this dude, Stoltz, he knows in his head what he’s doing while he’s doing it, talking to the press, getting filmed, knowing he’s going to be on TV and be famous. He’s got a plan, Heilbron thought. I read the man. Definitely has plans. That’s what I have to do, plan every detail, every small thing just like working on the cars. It’s in the really small details. You have to get everything just right. Plan it, dude. Plan it carefully. Get it right.

Heilbron turned at the next corner. If Stoltz was able to pull something off, then he’d have to also. He thought about that as he drove downtown.

FORTY-EIGHT

‘
H
ey,’ Celeste said, ‘where are you?’

‘Just getting home.’

‘Want to go back out instead? I just finished this wine thing at the Four Seasons and I’ve got a room here tonight and an expense account for dinner.’

Tonight the elevator seemed louder than usual and he could barely hear her as he rode up. Even if he went back out he needed to feed the cat first. He got out of the elevator and climbed the stairs to the cool air of the roof. Horsetails of cirrus clouds fanned into moonlight.

‘Let me feed the cat and then I’ll meet you there. I’ll probably be half an hour. Is that OK?’

‘I’ll be in the bar.’

He called for Visa and heard a meow, but it took a while to figure out where it was coming from. When he did, he wasn’t sure how to get Visa out.

Soon after he’d moved here, the owner, Mr Han, had hired a contractor to install iron braces that connected the roof framing to the brick parapet, a city earthquake bracing requirement. In March it had rained almost every day and there were leaks in and around where the contractor had worked, so Han was up on the roof innumerable times arguing with the contractor, and finally the contractor built a temporary plywood contraption over one of the seismic braces that leaked the worst.

Somehow Visa had gotten inside that plywood box and Raveneau felt around in the darkness for the opening the cat crawled through. When he found it, Visa still wouldn’t come out. But a can of food did the trick and he left Visa eating.

By the time he got downstairs again to his car he was running late to meet Celeste. To head toward the Four Seasons he needed to make a U-turn, but ahead of him a car a few blocks down pulled away in a manner that made him curious. He followed it intending to turn around soon, but closed in a little when it became obvious the driver didn’t want him catching up.

So now the cop in him kicked in and he stayed with it, an old Ford Taurus, one of the SHO cars, the faster model. It swung left, the driver tapping his brakes as he rolled through a stop sign, and then picked up speed. He went right with his tires squealing. As Raveneau neared, he swung hard on to the 101 ramp and gunned it on to the southbound freeway, Raveneau following but not gaining. When the Taurus broke right at the 280 split Raveneau picked up his cell and called the SID team leader.

‘How certain are you Stoltz is home?’

‘We just watched a light go off upstairs.’

‘I’m following a car that was parked down the street from where I live. The driver is on 280 and moving at ninety. He doesn’t want me to catch him. The car is a Ford Taurus maybe ten years old and dark-colored. I’ve fallen way back from him now and he’s slowed but is still moving fast. I’m not going to get close enough for plates.’

‘We can call the CHP right now.’

So could Raveneau but he didn’t want that. ‘I want to know where he’s going,’ he said.

He felt the minutes go by, felt Celeste waiting for him as he chased the car down 280. When the car exited near Palo Alto, Raveneau lost him in the hills, but was able to give SID a partial plate before turning back to San Francisco.

‘Plates start with the letters A and L and contain the number four.’

‘We’ll keep our eyes peeled but we think he’s inside.’

‘Call me when you find the car.’

The officer chuckled, said, ‘You got it.’

He called Celeste, told her what happened, and apologized. ‘I’m on my way to you now.’

When he got to the Four Seasons Celeste was at the bar and a little bit drunk. She was trying to be cheerful but couldn’t understand why he didn’t call her earlier.

‘I was afraid you’d stood me up. Remember I said all you ever have to do is call and let me know.’

‘I’m sorry, I was wrapped up in this guy I was following. How about we restart the night?’

But it didn’t work out very well. They split a bottle of wine at dinner but after drinking whatever she had before he got there it was more than she could handle. Suddenly they were talking about her old boyfriend again, how he left her, how much it hurt her, and then back to now and how all she needed was a phone call as she waited at the bar. That was all fair.

After dinner they went up to her room and Celeste said, ‘I’m really drunk,’ and fell asleep on top of the bed with her clothes on. He thought about going home but instead undressed her and put her under the covers, and then moved a chair over to the window and sat thinking about la Rosa’s close call, the car he’d chased, and Becker’s face after his brother was shot.

He listened to Celeste’s soft snore and wondered how much he really knew about her. She’d gone a long way over the edge worrying when he didn’t show up on time and put away three martinis. Maybe her old boyfriend leaving her had left her damaged in a way he couldn’t help.

Sometime later he got into bed with her, and very late in the night he woke to her whispered, ‘I’m sorry for thinking you stood me up and sorry for getting so scared. I didn’t used to be like that, and I’m sorry I talk about Gary too much. I know if I don’t stop you’re going to go away. Sometimes I feel like I’ve done everything wrong. Things that seemed right at the time, that look like bad decisions now.’

‘I like being with you. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Being with a drunk.’

‘You’re not a drunk.’

His cell rang and Raveneau reached for it.

‘Inspector, sorry to bother you but about fifteen minutes ago in the hills behind Stoltz’s house we found a Taurus matching your description and with an A, an L, and a number four on the plates. It’s on a street about a mile and a half from here and registered to a David Williams.’

Raveneau shut his phone slowly. He reached over for Celeste and held her tight for several minutes. Then kissed her and got dressed. If that was Stoltz in China Basin, then Stoltz was out of control. Celeste spoke as he was dressing.

‘I understand if you want to end it.’

‘That’s the last thing I want. I’ll call you.’

FORTY-NINE

T
hey came up the road and around the curve, with the SID officer saying, ‘Right up here under these trees, does that look like your car?’

‘Yeah, that’s it.’

‘He could be watching this so I’m going to keep driving, but earlier we got a Los Altos patrol officer to shine a light inside and try the door. It’s locked and there’s nothing on the seats. The hood was still warm.’

‘He must get home from here.’

‘That’s what we figure too. He burned us. It must be that a computer controls the lights in the house or they’re pre-programmed. We think he got out through the rear.’

Trying to understand Stoltz leaving the car here, Raveneau said, ‘He got scared when I chased him. He dumped the car here and he’s probably back in his house now.’

‘We would have seen him go back in.’

With Raveneau’s testimony they could probably get another search warrant tonight and go through his house again, but they wouldn’t find anything and tomorrow Stoltz’s lawyer would make more noise. Yesterday, in a press conference, the lawyer even threatened the press, citing Richard Jewell, who when he was cleared of the Atlanta Olympics bombing settled with NBC for half a million. She claimed SFPD was intentionally destroying her client’s reputation.

The brass was a little worried about that and Captain Ramirez called him, but Raveneau knew this was the car he’d followed. It wasn’t registered to Stoltz, but it was the car and here it was parked within a mile and a half of Stoltz’s house. He was waiting for you to come home and when you flushed him out and followed him, he got so scared he dumped the car on the side of the road and went down his rabbit hole.

‘Stop for a minute, OK. I want to stand outside.’

Raveneau walked over to the car. He looked down at the hillside falling away and up ahead, where the road climbed into country grown over with trees, brush, and rye grass. Maybe he had another car or motorcycle, or some other way of getting out of here once he parked the Taurus. Or maybe he had a way to get back to his house.

At first light a K-9 unit and a second surveillance team arrived. When la Rosa got there, she and Raveneau hung back as the handlers worked the dogs. A bloodhound went down the road shoulder and half a mile below moved back and forth along a guard rail.

The dog seemed to want to get around the guard rail, poking its head underneath and barking. When the handler walked it around the railing the bloodhound picked up the scent again and went down the slope.

They watched and la Rosa asked, ‘Do you get poison oak?’

Below were several large poison oak bushes, their leaves mostly gone and what was left dry and close to falling. There was greasewood and rye grass and oak, and the handler and dog were partially hidden by the trees and brush.

‘I got it as a kid. I don’t get it any more,’ he said, and watched the handler come to the base of the steep slope.

‘Looks like he’s about to wave us down,’ Raveneau said. ‘The dog has found something.’

He thought of other times he’d seen the dogs circle a spot along a creek bed or in trees down a ravine.

‘Your dad was a cop, wasn’t he?’ la Rosa asked.

‘Yeah, he was a uniform cop, a beat cop. He got discharged from the navy after World War Two, met my mom, and then they stayed and settled here. In those days SFPD still had cops walking the beat. He thought all homicide inspectors were prima donnas. He only trusted uniform cops. He congratulated me when I got my homicide star, but he didn’t think much of it.’

‘That’s too bad.’

‘It was fine. We figured out a way to joke about it.’

‘Were you close to him?’

‘Closer in the end, but he was hard on my brother and I growing up.’

‘So who do you have?’

‘I got divorced a dozen years ago, and we had one child, a son who was killed in Iraq.’

‘I’m sorry, Ben, no one told me that.’

‘I don’t talk about it much.’

‘Were you close to your son?’

‘Yes, very close.’

‘It must have been very hard.’

It still is, he thought, and asked, ‘What about you?’

‘My grandfather was a cop and I adored him. Even when I was little he treated me like I was an equal riding along with him in a big car. He died when I was in college. He was on patrol driving alone at night on a rural road in Minnesota and had a heart attack and ran into a tree. No one found him until morning, but they think he was alive all night and couldn’t reach the radio. He drank vodka, smoked Marlboros, and ate blood-red steaks he had to beat the black flies off of. He was my hero.’

Ten minutes later, the dog handler and the bloodhound were back on top and the handler had taken his hat off and was telling Raveneau, ‘There’s a manhole cover over a storm drainage line. He may have gone in there.’

They went down the steep slope and took a look. From the spot where the dog had stopped your eye followed a line of brush and grass where the scar left from the installation of drainage pipes still showed. Raveneau sighted where it ran down toward the valley and it all began to make sense. He hiked back up the steep slope, slick with dry grass, and got a tire iron and the crowbar he carried in his trunk, and used the crowbar to lift the iron cover. It was the kind of thing he and Donny would crawl into as kids.

After looking down the manhole they started making calls, trying to get someone from the local Public Works or Sewer Department, whoever handled run-off. Turned out the sewer people handled storm drainage easements and an engineer walked them through a map, pointing out the easement line.