Burn (36 page)
But one afternoon, a couple of weeks before Christmas, a delivery man came to the door. When Andrew saw the size of the package, he told the guy that it must be a mistake. But the guy checked his manifest and shook his head.
“Says Andrew Kindler, ” he said. He tilted the form so that Andrew could see the address. “You Andrew Kindler?”
Andrew shrugged. “I guess I am.”
He signed for the package and had to use both arms to carry it inside.
Andrew opened the large flat box in the living room. Packed inside, only slightly smaller than the box itself, was an object wrapped in brown paper. Four feet by four feet square, a couple inches deep. Andrew slid the box away and leaned the object against the couch. He found a note taped to the brown paper wrapping. He pulled the note off and read the handwriting.
It said:
Andrew,
My father told me what you used to do for Cedric before you came to Los Angeles. I find that extremely bizarre.
The enclosed is a painting by my favorite artist. I took
the liberty of titling it myself. I call it “Self-Destructive Pattern Behavior.”
If you haven't already, stop reading this note now and unwrap the painting. It will help the rest make sense.
Mildly astounded, Andrew followed the instructions. He put the note down on the coffee table and went to the wrapped canvas. He got a corner started with his finger and began tearing the brown paper away. When he finished, he took a step back and looked at the painting.
The first thing that struck him was the color. Swirling shades of oranges and reds and yellows covered the canvas in vibrant, fiery whorls.
As he stood there, he began to notice things. In one spot, he saw what he thought must be the joint of a large feathered wing. In another, he saw what looked like a dark round eye. He took another step back, then another. He stood some more. The longer he studied the painting, the more he began to see the shape of some great bird within the riot of flaming color.
He took the note up again.
I've heard different versions of the Phoenix legend. The one I like best says that the adult bird turned its own nest into a funeral pyre, consuming itself in flame. After the conflagration, a new Phoenix rose out of the ashes. Maybe you've heard it.
I hope you like the painting. Happy Holidays.
Andrew read the note again before he put it down. He stood there and looked at the painting awhile. In the bottom right corner, something caught his eye. He stepped closer and bent down to look, saw the initials BL drizzled in black paint.
He stepped back again and thought,
I'll be damned.
The painting itself really was something. Andrew didn't know much about art, but he liked it. He liked it quite a lot. He liked it more every time he walked past actually.
He tried it above the fireplace first, because it fit the space there. But something about putting it above a fireplace seemed heavy-handed, so he took it down. He tried it in the bedroom, but it didn't really go with Caroline's decor.
He tried a few other things, but he didn't like any of them, either.
Eventually, Andrew gave up and left the painting on the floor in the living room, leaning against the wall.
There just didn't seem to be a good spot for it here. But Andrew figured it would keep. It really was about time he found his own place anyway.
Fire is a catalyst; it synthesizes whatever surrounds it; it takes its character from its context.
LAPD investigators never recovered a murder weapon in the
Gregor Tavlin
case. During an extensive follow-up search of Tavlin's home in Palos Verdes, SID technicians used chemical enhancement techniques to discover latent fingerprints and blood spatters on and around a fiberglass basement utility sink. Disassembly of the sink's trap pipe led to the collection of hair and tissue samples. Lab analyses calculated a one-in-six-billion chance that the DNA contained in the collected samples belonged to any person other than the victim.
Todd Todman
remains in custody in the Men's Central Jail in downtown Los Angeles. Three applications for bail have been denied. He is awaiting trial in the Superior Court of the State of California, Los Angeles County.
David Lomax
pleaded guilty to felony charges of accessory after the fact to murder. He was sentenced by a Los Angeles Superior Court judge to 15 to 24 months at the California Institution for Men at Chino, with credit for time served.
Benjamin Corbin
was not implicated in any criminal activity. Corbin conducted an informal primer course on life inside the Chino facility and is counseling Lomax in preparation for his first parole hearing.
After completing the oral portion of the lieutenant's
exam and placing in the top flight of candidates on the final list,
Adrian Timms
took his daughter on a weekend salmon fishing trip in Puget Sound.
Drea Munoz
and
Marcus Webster
had drinks. It didn't work out.
Pursuant to section 2761(c) of the Business and Professions Code of California, and in accordance with internal disciplinary guidelines, the California Board of Registered Nursing stayed the revocation of
Iris Warner
's license to practice with three years of probation. The Board of Directors of Mountain View Supported Living voted to continue Warner's employment provisionally based on the appeals of Lomax family members. No criminal charges were filed.
CNN, MSNBC, and local network affiliates all carried stories covering the California Department of Forestry's daring air rescue of
Rodney Marvalis
and
Denny Hoyle.
Rod Marvalis played himself in a re-enactment on the Fox prime-time television series
American Catastrophes.
He is currently represented by Mitchell Towne of the William Morris Agency. He remains the sole client of Hoyle
&
Associates Personal Security, Inc.
Luther Vines
was prosecuted and convicted on charges of assault with a weapon and laying in wait to commit bodily harm. Possession of an illegal gun and assault with a deadly weapon charges were retracted during the plea-bargaining process. Designs for The Neckerciser are patent pending.
The whereabouts of
Lawrence Michael Tomi-czek,
aka “Eyebrow Larry, ” remain unknown. Los Angeles private investigator
Travis Plum
is tracking a lead in the Florida Keys.
And on the first day of the new year, late in the
afternoon,
Andrew Kindler
followed
Heather Lomax
from her father's home in Beverly Hills to her own house in Los Feliz. He waited at the curb for half an hour before Heather emerged, got back in the car, and left again. He followed her little yellow Beemer, not bothering to keep distance between them. He got the feeling she'd known he was there all along.
She led them north on the 405, to the 5, past San Fernando. He followed, racking miles on the odometer as they climbed gradually out of the basin, through the foothills, and into the San Gabriel Mountains. Andrew saw a sign that said Antelope Valley Freeway. Eventually, they arrived at a long driveway lined with cedars and pines.
She waited for him in the parking lot with her arms folded, head tilted, keys dangling from her hand. She wore a light sweater and faded blue jeans.
“Happy New Year, ” he told her.
“Same to you, ” she said.
“Thanks for the painting.”
Heather looked at him for a while without speaking.
“Don't thank me, ” she finally said, smiling a little. “Just tell me what you're doing here.”
Andrew smiled back. He put his hands in his pockets. He looked off toward the A-frame lodges. He looked east, thinking of a cemetery he needed to visit soon. He looked at Heather.
“I was just thinking that I never did get to meet the artist, ” he said. “I was wondering if you'd mind if I thanked her myself.”
For a long time, Heather stood quietly. Andrew wasn't sure how to read her response. She looked off toward the A-frame lodges. Finally, she turned back to him.
“You'll like her, ” she said, and took his arm.
Thanks are due, as always, to the folks who helped.
First, to my wife, Jessica, who holds the unenviable job of First Reader.
Thanks one more time to Tom Fassbender and Jim Pascoe for their uncommon insight and faith.
Thanks to Brian Hodge, Victor Gischler, and Nathan Walpow for empathy and input. Thanks to Jennifer Robinson for taking a chance way back when. Special thanks to Tess Monaghan for abiding a quick storybook version of her stomping ground.
Finally, a respectful nod to the men and women of the Los Angeles Police Department, who may notice discrepancies between this work of fiction and real life on the job. Dramatic license and all.
My advice to any armchair detectives out there: leave all your important murder investigations to the professionals.
Sean Doolittle won the gold medal in the mystery category of
ForeWord Magazines
Book of the Year Award for
Burn.
He is also the author of
Dirt,
an Amazon.com Top 100 Editor's Pick for 2001. The author lives with his family in Omaha, Nebraska. Visit him on the web at
www.seandoolittle.com
.
BURN
A Dell Book
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Published by
Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2003 by Sean Doolittle
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2003012953
Dell is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the
colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-307-48260-0
v3.0