The Mercedes Coffin (16 page)

“The GTA was originally your case. As far as I know, you’re currently not working Homicide.”

“Correct about that, Lieutenant, but a girl can dream.”

AROUND THE TABLE,
everybody was scrubbed clean and garbed in fresh clothes for the Sabbath. Rina had curbed her culinary largesse, deciding on just a single meat entrée of turkey with rice stuffing and fresh cranberry sauce with a side of steamed asparagus. Preceding the bird were two appetizers: carrot ginger soup followed by an arugula and grapefruit salad. Grilled pineapple and peaches rounded out dessert.

“Too much food,” Decker told her after he downed the last little bit of warm, sweet fruit. “As usual, I was a total glutton.”

“I as well,” Koby said.

Decker looked at his son-in-law, six two but rail thin. Maybe it was all those years of food shortages in Ethiopia. For the Sabbath, Koby had on his usual white short-sleeved shirt and black slacks. Sandals were on his feet, and that was a concession. Koby hated shoes.

“Everything was delicious,” Cindy said. “Really light if you didn’t stuff your face.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Rina answered. “I’m trying to cook a little healthier. Hannah made the soup.”

“It wasn’t a big deal.” Hannah shrugged.

“It was delicious, and I believe the proper response is ‘thank you.’”

Hannah smiled. “Thank you, Eema, I’m glad you liked the soup.”

“Did I detect coconut milk?” Koby asked her.

“You did,” Hannah answered.

“Good touch, Hans,” Cindy told her.

“Thank you times two,” Hannah said.

“Please let me clear the dishes,” Decker implored. “I need to move.”

“No argument from me,” Rina told him. “I will gladly leave you the mess while I read the paper.”

“I’ll help you, Daddy,” Cindy said.

Hannah brightened. “Are you two going to talk shop?”

“Maybe,” Cindy answered. “Why? Are you interested in the intricacies of police work?”

“Au contraire, I believe it would be inappropriate for me to hear your discussions. As such, I’d like to be excused from KP — please.”

Rina shot her daughter a look. “Surely you can weasel out with a better excuse than that?”

Cindy smiled. “Even if we don’t talk shop, I would pick up your slack, Hannah, provided your mother approves.”

Hannah’s eyes went to her mother’s face.

Rina wagged a finger. “Next time you make the chicken as well.”

“Deal!” She hugged Cindy. “You’re the best sister in the entire world!”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Cindy agreed.

Hannah now turned her attention to her brother-in-law. “Can you walk me over to a friend’s house?”

Decker said, “I told you I’d do it when I was done with the dishes.”

“I’m sure Koby won’t mind.”

“I’m sure he won’t, but that’s not the point.”

Hannah let go with a deep sigh. Her body was at the dinner table, but her mind was already with her school chums. Koby came to her rescue. “If it’s all right with you, Peter, I would not mind a little walk.” He regarded his father-in-law. “It’s up to you.”

Decker threw up his hands. “The girl is an expert manipulator.”

“I prefer to think of it as efficient. So it’s a go?”

“This time,” Decker said. “Thanks, Koby.”

“Yeah, thanks.” She bounced up from the table. “I’ll go pack.”

Rina caught her by the arm. “We didn’t bench.”

“Oh…” She sat back down. “Sorry.” She rushed through grace after meals, leaving before the rest of the table was done, flying out of her chair and into her room, slamming the door.

“She hates us,” Decker said when he was done with his prayers.

“She loves us,” Rina told him. “She just doesn’t want to be with us. We’re boring.”

“How would she even know?” Decker complained. “She never talks to us.”

Cindy patted her father’s arm. “It’ll change, Daddy. Look at me. I thought you and Mom were the lamest people on earth—”

“You did?” Decker said. “How was I lame?”

“Daddy, it wasn’t about
what
you were, it was about
who
you were. Parents are lame. And on top of that, you were this big, hulking cop. By extension everyone was afraid of me.”

“You had friends,” Decker protested. “You had boyfriends.”

“A testament to my charm and charisma.”

Koby cleared his throat and raised his eyes to the ceiling. Cindy hit his shoulder. They spoke about childhood for another thirty seconds until Hannah returned with her suitcase in hand. “Ready.”

“That was fast,” Koby told her.

“She prepacked days ago,” Decker told him. “She can’t wait to get out of here.”

Hannah put the suitcase down and threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Abba, you are the best! I love you very much and always will. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” She smiled at Koby. “I’m all set.”

“Be careful, Koby.” Cindy’s voice was uncertain. “Maybe you should take my gun.”

“That is not a smart idea,” Koby said. “If the neighbors see a black man with a weapon, I will create more harm than good for myself.”

Rina said, “I’ll go with you two. I could use a walk myself.”

“No need, Rina, I’m sure I will not be lynched. If I am, at least the remodel of the house is done and Cindy can relax.”

“That’s not funny,” Cindy said.

Rina said, “Honestly, Koby, I’d like to take a walk.”

“Can we just go?” Hannah said testily.

Rina kissed Decker. “We’ll be back in a half hour.”

Koby added, “And if we’re not, call the cops.”

THEY CLEARED THE
table, piling the china and silver into a tub of warm, soapy water. Cindy donned an apron and rolled up her sleeves. “Do I wash or rinse or what?”

“Just rinse them off and place them on the towel. I’ll load the dishwasher. It’s not only Shabbos ready but programmed to go off at three in the morning.”

“Don’t you just love that? You wake up the next morning and everything’s sparkling clean. I’m still so thrilled with the kitchen. Mike Hollander did a fabulous job. I think he went the extra mile because I was your daughter. Or maybe it was because you made him feel like a detective again.”

“He was a detective again. He found the technology that led to identifying Beth Hernandez. Even though he’s retired, Mike’s a handy guy to have in reserves. You can’t put a price on all those years of experience.”

Cindy lifted up a bundle of silver and gave it to Decker. “So what specifically is it about Mr. Banks that spoils his good looks?”

“Well, he’s foulmouthed, he’s involved in a number of lawsuits, he’s been accused by several people of ripping them off, he breaks appointments, and he seems entirely unreliable in all capacities. But it is not for me to judge, only to interview, and I’ve had a rough time getting hold of him.”

“And why do you want to interview him with regard to Primo Ekerling’s death?”

“Ekerling was the push behind the Doodoo Sluts lawsuit. He claims that Rudy Banks released the ‘best of’ CD without paying his ex-band-mates.”

“So who’s taking over the lawsuit now that Ekerling is dead?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve met the two other members. The drummer, Liam O’Dell, absolutely detests Banks. The other member, Ryan Goldberg, is nonfunctional. Mental problems. Ekerling was still producing records — still in the business — so I suppose it made sense for Ekerling to initiate legal action.”

“And you think Rudy finally had enough and either killed Ekerling himself or hired Geraldo Perry and Travis Martel to kill Ekerling?”

“I’m not saying Banks did anything to Ekerling. I’m just saying that Ekerling was behind a couple of lawsuits against Banks.”

“Okay. So I can understand Banks possibly being involved with Ekerling. But what does he have to do with your cold case?”

“Banks was a student at North Valley High when Ben Little taught there.”

“Aha. Any contact between the two?”

“Still to be determined. I’m interested because the two murders have similar MOs. Both victims were stuffed in the trunk of their own Mercedes.”

Cindy said, “I don’t think that L.A. is overrun with cases involving dead bodies in trunks, but it’s not unheard of.”

“In almost all cases where the crime scene differs from the body drop, the body is transported in a motor vehicle to the dump spot. And most of the time, the felon will use the trunk to transport the body. But to find a car with the body still inside — and an intact body at that, one that hasn’t been dismembered or burnt or disfigured for ID purposes — that’s a little different.”

“What about the teens they have in custody? Are you totally comfortable with eliminating Perry and Martel as suspects?”

“Not at all. Their fingerprints were lifted from Ekerling’s car. If they were the
only
ones behind Ekerling’s murder, Little and Ekerling aren’t going to be related. But let’s assume for the sake of argument that their story was true.”

“Okay, let’s assume that Perry and Martel went to Jonas Park, looking for drugs, and happened upon the Mercedes with the keys in the ignition and a body in the trunk.”

Decker smiled. Stated succinctly, the tale sounded far-fetched. “If you murdered someone and stuffed the body in the trunk of his or her own car, you’d want to get the car away from the crime scene and in a place where a parked car might not stand out so brazenly. The parking lot of a public park sounds like a good idea. It’s usually an isolated area at night and no one’s around to watch your movements.”

“Yes, but then there’s a flip side. How does the murderer get away? Not a lot of public transportation.”

“There had to be more than one person — or the murderer called up someone to ask for a lift. Now we know that Perry and Martel dumped the car and called up buddies for a ride back to the ’hood. But they called in from a restaurant on the Strip, not from a tower near the park area.”

Cindy nodded.

Decker groused. “So if we’re assuming that Perry and Martel really did find the Mercedes at the park, then Ekerling’s killer may have left in a second vehicle. If Rip Garrett and Tito Diaz had bothered to check out the story, maybe they might have found not only tire tracks from Ekerling’s Mercedes but also another set of tire prints from the getaway car. As it stands now, what has it been… three weeks ago? The original scene has been violated if not obliterated.”

Cindy gave his words some thought. “Okay, so even if someone besides the teens killed Ekerling, why do you suspect Rudy Banks? Was the lawsuit between Banks and Ekerling particularly nasty?”

“I don’t know. From what I understand, Banks is involved in a lot of lawsuits.”

“So why would you suspect that he’s made the jump from suing people to murder?”

“I don’t suspect anything. I just want to talk to the dude.”

“Nonsense, Daddy, you wouldn’t waste your time just ‘talking’ to him unless you were going for something more sinister.”

Decker bent down and rearranged the china to fit more plates into the dishwasher. When he was done, he stood up and stretched. “I suppose I’m stirring up the pot to see if anything rises to the top.”

“Surely you’re investigating more avenues that just Banks.”

“Of course. I have a guy named Darnell Arlington. He was Bennett Little’s charity case, but eventually Little kicked him out of school when Arlington was caught drug dealing. The problem with Darnell is that he was over fifteen hundred miles away when Little’s murder went down. We’re checking out the possibility of murder for hire because Arlington had some thuggish friends.”

“How’s that going?”

“Just found out the names. Unlike TV, we just don’t cut to the next scene. Locating people takes a while. Also, I had a retired cop who
might
have helped me with the Little case, only now he’s dead — like on-purpose dead. Suicide.”

Cindy stopped working. “Who’s that?”

“An LAPD detective named Calvin Vitton. He originally worked the Little case. I had an appointment to talk to him and when I showed up at his house, he appeared to have killed himself. Empty pill vials, then a gunshot to the head.”

“So why do you say he
appeared
to have killed himself?”

“Because I haven’t gotten the final path report. I got the feeling that if Cal were going to kill himself, he’d do it like a man. Just aim and shoot — no pills for him to soften the act. So I’m thinking cause and effect. I bring up Ben Little to Cal Vitton, and the next thing I know is that he’s dead. It’s not inconceivable that Cal called someone who came over, knocked him out with pills, shot him, and then staged the scene.”

“Did Cal have residue on his hands?”

“Yes, but someone could have wrapped the gun around his own hand and pulled the trigger for him. And if he did kill himself to hide something, what’s the secret?”

“More important for Hollywood Homicide and me: What do Vitton’s suicide and Little’s murder have to do with Primo Ekerling?”

“That’s legitimate. I don’t know that they have anything to do with it.”

Cindy cocked her hip. “I understand why you think Vitton’s suicide is related to the Little homicide. It’s not just a coincidence. But I don’t see what Vitton or Little have to do with Ekerling’s murder.”

Decker began to wipe down the counter, busying his hands while his brain fired — or misfired — ideas. Maybe he should stop trying to shove the two cases under the same umbrella. “The connection is Banks, and it’s tenuous. In the back of my mind I’m thinking that if I find out who really killed Ekerling, it might shed some light on Ben Little’s murder. I need to find out more about Banks, especially because Marge thinks that there may be a connection between Banks and Darnell Arlington.”

“The suspect that was over fifteen hundred miles away when Little was murdered with the thuggie friends that you’re looking for.”

“Exactly. Marge flew to Ohio to interview Arlington about Little.”

“And?”

Decker stopped cleaning the tile and sat down on a kitchen chair. “And when Margie asked about Rudy Banks, Arlington acted edgy. Darnell remembered Banks as an upperclassman and being in choir with him except the two boys weren’t in North Valley at the same time.”