L.A. Boneyard (28 page)

“Seems to me you all did a fine job of that.”

“I did not kill anyone. I would not have harmed any of those women—”

“What about Mikalenko? Would he have harmed any of them?”

“No! I do not know. He was a volatile man. He had a temper...”

L.A. BONEYARD
235

“So he could have hurt someone who made him angry.”

Sevchuk hung his head, staring at his hand manacled to the table. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Did you ever see him get rough with anyone?”

Sevchuk still would not meet his gaze. He nodded. “Once only.”

“Tell me about it.”

“He asked me to attend to Halyna at her house. She was distraught and Mikalenko was furious, though neither of them said why. At one point he called her terrible names and slapped her across the face so hard she fell to the floor. Then he walked out. I would have stayed, but she told me to go, and Mikalenko was waiting...”

“What kind of names did he call her?” David leaned over the table. So, he noticed, did DeSoto and Pearlman.

“He called her a murderer. That the blood on her hands would never wash off. I am so very sorry. I never meant any harm to anyone...”

When it became clear Sevchuk couldn’t or wouldn’t speak anymore, DeSoto loaded her files back in her briefcase, and with a curt, “I’ll be in touch with the details by day’s end,” she left, her briefcase slapping against her nylon clad leg. Jairo took Sevchuk back to the Men’s Central and Pearlman left to chase other ambulances. David made his way back the Northeast, where he spent the time waiting for Jairo to return, so they could make one more run at the Leland house. While he waited, he made a courtesy call to Larson about their visit. Larson declined to meet them. David had secured a key from him earlier. He’d leave it in police hands, though he reminded David he hoped he’d be getting the property back soon.

“I can sympathize, Mr. Larson, but this is a murder investigation, and that takes precedence over your needs.”

“This is going to be costing me soon, officer. It’s going to take me at least a week to get this place cleaned up before I can even think about renting it out.”

236 P.A. Brown

“I’ll do my best.” David hung up before the landlord could continue.

They rolled as soon as Jairo got back, signing out a Crown Vic from the motor pool and heading west.

The house might have entered a sort of Twilight Zone, where time was suspended. There was a new layer of dust on everything and the air felt even more closed up.

David started at one end of the house and Jairo the other.

They would overlap, both searching each bedroom, then they would meet in the living room. David pulled on a pair of sterile nitrile gloves and searched every nook, and cranny, first in Zuzanna’s bedroom, then after that turned up nothing, Halyna’s. Zuzanna had been the diarist, but that didn’t mean a stressed out Halyna, fearing the worst, wouldn’t have tried to sort out her nightmare by writing about it.

Her bedroom yielded nothing. The same results in the cramped bathroom. A look into the depths of each kitchen drawer and the cupboards packed with canned vegetables and packaged soups held no surprises.

After nearly three hours of searching, and a headache that had lodged behind his eyes and pulsed with each heartbeat, David headed for the last room: the living room. Jairo was already there, checking out a side table and up inside a tall floor lamp. David headed straight for the ikon corner.

“I already checked there,” Jairo said.

“S’okay, I’ll check it again.”

He remembered what Konstatinov had said about people hiding things in ikon corners, and the money they had recovered. Had they overlooked something else? He pulled every picture off the wall, examining each one front and back, even prying open the mat and frames of all of them. He checked out the ornate crosses and the empty Easter basket with its colorful embroidered liner. He lifted out the liner and shook it. A small notebook flipped out onto the floor. He stooped to pick it up.

L.A. BONEYARD
237

Jairo came over and crouched down. David opened the first page of the palm-sized booklet with a colorful cover and briefly scanned the contents. “Ukrainian. We’re going to need Konstatinov again. I’ll call him, you keep on looking.”

Konstatinov agreed to come out as soon as he could get away. Maybe forty minutes. The two detectives went back to searching, with more diligence, now that they knew something had been overlooked. This time when nothing more showed up David was satisfied nothing more would. They met Konstatinov outside on the front porch. David handed him the booklet and he began to read, his lips moving as he made sure he got each word.

When he met David’s gaze he looked shell-shocked. “You will not believe this.”

“Try me.”

“They despaired of getting out. They knew they could never escape and Mikalenko would turn them into baby-making machines, making money off of the having of sex with strange men and the giving birth of children that would be forever lost to them.” He closed his eyes as if the pain was too much. “They knew there was only one way out, so they all agreed they must do this.”

“Murder/suicide pact,” David said softly. Beside him Jairo took a deep shuddering breath. “Well, it explains the hesitation marks. She really didn’t want to do this.”

“Yes. Halyna would take care of the other two girls. It was horrible, she says. There was so much blood... Katrina died as planned but Zuzanna didn’t. I think they both lost the stomach for it. The two hid Katrina’s body under the crawl space of the house, wrapped in a thick blanket from Katrina’s bed.

Mikalenko was furious. He thought Katrina had run away and he punished both of the other girls harshly for allowing her to run. Zuzanna was badly cut but Mikalenko made her work anyway. He would not let them go to the hospital. Only Sevchuk was allowed to treat them. He tried to beat it out of Zuzanna, about what had happened. He never guessed the truth. Six weeks later Halyna writes that she would try again.

238 P.A. Brown

She says part of her had hoped it would not be necessary, that they could find another way. She wanted to live...”

Konstatinov flipped to the last page of the notebook.

“There is nothing more, so I cannot be telling you if she succeeded or not.”

“Oh I think we can safely assume she succeeded,” David said. “There were two bodies in the park. We’ve finally IDed them as Zuzanna Konjenko and Katrina Mydry.” His two nameless and faceless murder books now had identities.

Sometimes it would be nice to be wrong.

“But how did they get there?” Jairo asked. “We’ve seen no sign any of the girls knew how to drive, let alone had access to a car.”

“I doubt Halyna disposed of the bodies.” David was speculating now, examining each fact he knew in light of what they had found. “This explains Mikalenko saying he didn’t kill the women. He only knew about Halyna. I think he caught her after she’d killed Zuzanna and before she could finish the job on herself. Remember the slash marks on her face at the autopsy? They were all inflicted pre-mortem. Either she did it to herself to reduce her ‘value’ to him, or he did it in a rage, when he found out what she had done. Once it was done, whoever did it, he still had to dispose of their bodies.” His voice grew cold. “And decide what to do with Halyna. I think he dragged her up to the overpass and threw her over as punishment. He couldn’t let her get away with it. If she escaped, she’d be a witness against him. He couldn’t allow that. Plus, I imagine he was furious, and that rage fueled him. Maybe he didn’t even mean to kill her, just terrify her so she’d never do anything like that again.”

“He still had her baby, if he kept her around long enough to have it,” Jairo said.

“Right. But Halyna was bent on self-destruction, and I don’t imagine it would be too hard to goad Mikalenko into doing something foolish. He might well regret it later, but she would have escaped him in the only way she knew how.”

L.A. BONEYARD
239

Both Jairo and Konstatinov looked dumb-struck by the horror of what the three women had endured. What they had been driven to. David watched the array of emotions march across their faces, and wished he could feel those kinds of things again. Unbidden came a memory of Chris getting all teary-eyed when they had come across a baby mule deer that had wandered onto the Golden State Freeway west of Griffith Park and been struck by an SUV. Maybe Chris was doing the best thing for them. Maybe David didn’t deserve the love of a man who could feel so deeply, when he seemed able to feel nothing.

“She was a very brave girl,” Konstatinov said softly. All three of them nodded.

“Well,” David said brusquely. “Let’s go tell a killer he’s going away for life. No plea bargains for this one.”

“He was truly a monster,” Konstatinov said.

“Come on, let’s get this back to evidence and book it in,” he said. “Then we’re going to see Mikalenko again. Let him explain this.”

Friday, 4:40 PM, Los Angeles Men’s Central, 450 Bauchet Street, Los
Angeles

Mikalenko looked like he’d endured a few sleepless nights.

His cheeks were unshaven and gave lie to the blond hair weave on his head. Prison pallor hadn’t set in yet, but he was pale anyway, with an unhealthy yellow sheen and sunken blue eyes.

He appeared to have aged a decade.

David had arranged to have the notebook found in the Easter basket transcribed and translated. He slid both copies across the scarred table.

“What’s this?” Mikalenko’s lawyer asked.

“Just a little thing Halyna penned confessing to the murders of Zuzanna Konjenko and Katrina Mydry.”

Fishburn sat up. “Then you have nothing on my client. I demand he be released at once. And I assure you, Detective, I will be pursuing a law suit against the city of Los Angeles and the LAPD for this harassment—”

“Not so fast, counselor,” David tossed the statement Sevchuk had given to DeSoto just an hour ago. “You might want to look these over first.”

Mikalenko picked up the transcript from Halyna’s note, the one in Ukrainian. David watched his face grow paler as his eyes scanned the sheets of paper. For once Fishburn ignored his client as he read Dr. Sevchuk’s confession.

Fishburn spoke first. “What are you offering us?”

“Offering you?” David suppressed a small smile. “Why, nothing, counselor. Not a damn thing.”

“What if we told you who was above Mikalenko? Wouldn’t that be worth something? Talk to your DA. I’m sure we can reach some agreement—”

242 P.A. Brown

“Is this person here in the US or back in Ukraine?”

“I am sorry, we can’t divulge that information without some guarantee—”

David stood up. “Well, I’m sorry too, then,” he said. “But I’m not giving this guy a walk on the basis of a name I can’t even pursue. Either he’s in the country and touchable or there’s no deal.”

Mikalenko hemmed and hawed but after several heated discussions with Fishburn he nodded. “We agree.” Under his voice David heard him mutter, “Rat bastard.”

“Why thank you,” David said. “From you that’s got to be a compliment.”

David stood. Jairo followed. “I’ll talk to the DA and let you know what she thinks and what conditions she might apply.”

“Conditions,” Mikalenko spat. “What are these conditions?”

“Oh, things like you have to tell us the truth. You can’t bullshit us and we let it slide. You’ll be required to provide a full name and possible contact information. If you can’t, then no deal. She may have more, but that will be up to her. Now once more: is this person in the US?”

Mikalenko nodded sullenly. “He is here, in Los Angeles.”

Jairo was charged with taking Mikalenko back to his cell.

The Ukrainian grumbled until he was out of earshot. David made his way outside, retrieved his Smith & Wesson and waited in the car for Jairo, who showed up ten minutes later.

“Not a happy camper.”

“Well, he’s standing alone on that one. I feel pretty good,”

David said.

Jairo grinned. “Me too.”

Back at Northeast David sat down and logged in, preparing to write up the Mikalenko interview before he called DeSoto.

Jairo did not sit. After a minute David looked up at him.

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone over on Drew.

About that connection between Mikalenko and the Avenues. It may tie in to that gang shooting, too.”

L.A. BONEYARD
243

David nodded. “Okay. Keep me in the loop, don’t go all blue-flamer on me at this point.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Trust me, if it starts going south I’m the first one out of there.”

After Jairo left, David finished his report, dropped a copy of it in Lieutenant McKee’s inbox, and called DeSoto. She seemed surprised to hear from him, but quickly brightened when he told her what he was calling about.

“Think it’s legit, or is he trying to save his sorry ass now that he can’t see any other way out?”

“I’m willing to check it out. If it is legitimate, then we gain.

If not, he still goes to Folsom.”

“Let me draft up a tentative agreement,” she said, and he could almost hear her wheels turning. “The main thing is going to be keeping him from weaseling out of giving us what we want. You realize it will make him a marked man.”

“I bleed for the guy.” David grimaced. “You didn’t see Halyna’s body after he tossed her off the overpass.” He didn’t mention that his lover had been in the path of that fall and had almost died. She didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, me too. Just thought you should know. Hell, he’s good at dishing it out, let’s see how well he can guard his own backside.”

“Some people might think you were vindictive.”

“Because I’m female?” She snorted, a very unladylike sound.

Not that David would ever have mistaken this tough broad for a lady. “No one who knows me.”

He had to laugh. He didn’t really know her, but he would have seen that much about her.

He began calling bus stations, airports, travel agencies, hospitals, city, state and county agencies, registration, utilities, and even the morgue to see if Natalya Lapchuk had left the city or wound up dead on someone else’s watch. She probably couldn’t leave the country without her passport, but she could travel anywhere in the US and might have figured that was big enough to hide from a guy like Mikalenko who, face it, wasn’t
244 P.A. Brown