Shadows May Fall (16 page)

After introducing herself, apologizing for not returning his call sooner and trying to navigate blindly her way as Principate, Commander Sharp was an exceedingly kind and accommodating man. He assured her that he would pave the way for her to intervene, and that she could count on him for anything she needed. He gave her his home telephone number, his personal mobile number and invited her to lunch. Lou was starting to think she could get used to this whole Principate thing. After making tentative plans for lunch in a week or so, Sharp informed her that the investigating detectives would be in touch with her shortly. It was the easiest call Lou could remember making, and she hung up just as Caroline stepped in.

“My guys are helping with the forensic collection, but I’m heading back to the shop with the body.” Caroline paused and took note of the office decor. “This guy live here alone?”

“Go figure, right?” Dillon said with a shake of his head.

“Give me a call if you find anything probative.” Lou requested. “You get the tox report back on Griffen?”

“I expect the results are on my desk right now.” Caroline said as she peeled off her gloves. “I’ll check before I shower and I’ll text you.”

“Thanks, girlie.” Lou waved as Caroline headed out the front door. “So Commander Sharp over at BHPD is a real team player.” Lou began relaying her telephone conversation to her partner.

Dillon looked up from the laptop and raised an eyebrow. “No problems?”

“None.” She confirmed. “He said he’d have the investigating...” Her phone rang as she spoke. “If only everything in life was this easy.” She rolled her eyes and answered the call.

Detective Hass of the Beverly Hills Police Department was just as kind and helpful as his Commander and simply over the moon to be of service to his new Principate. Lou couldn’t believe she was this lucky having a Sanguinostri detective on the case. After a brief conversation, he and his partner had no reservations helping Lou in any way they could. They arranged to meet Lou and Dillon for a late lunch then take them to the crime scene for a walk-through. She was psyched that they were going to catch their killer soon with all this cooperation. They had plenty of time to finish up there, head to Homicide to file their paperwork, then meet their new friends. Lou filled Dillon in on the plan and they got down to business without delay.

Peter Radisson was an elegantly rugged man with close-cropped hair and a surprisingly deep tan for a guy who spent his time hopping from province to province in Canada. He had arrived at the seaside estate precisely at eight with two assistants carrying trunks of documents, per Max’s direct request. The two men started the meeting with coffee in a secured room where Max could fill him in on the recent events that lead to the discovery of a blood smuggling operation within their midst. Peter was appalled and livid at the revelation and pledged his unyielding devotion to the hunt for any and all perpetrators. It was just as Max had suspected the meeting would go.

By noon, the two had whittled down a list of six Canadian subjects that might have some involvement in the nefarious pipeline. The trick was showing up and finding out for sure without tipping them off or giving any indication that Max and Peter knew what was going on. There were kinks to work out and plans to be hashed out, but they had a pretty good grip on what direction they were headed when Malcolm buzzed in and announced lunch was ready. This wasn’t two colleagues meeting over lunch, this was more like the corporate CEO checking in on the franchise manager, and that was not lost on Peter Radisson.

“This is such an unexpected honor, my Dom.” Peter took a seat at the table Malcolm had set for them in the solarium.

“Let’s dispense with the formalities, Peter.” Max smiled and poured the wine. “Let’s just be two old friends having lunch, shall we?”

“You honor me even more to count me as a friend, if but for lunch.” Peter chuckled.

Max paused and looked at the man very carefully before he spoke. “Peter, make no mistake, you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t count you as a friend.”

Radisson bowed his head and placed his fist on his chest in salute. “You more than honor me, my old friend.”

“Oh hell, Peter!” Max lifted his glass. “I would have frozen to death when I crossed over if not for you!” The two men laughed and drank to that.

When Max was given the ascension to Dominor for North America, he had come across to one of the most blistering cold winters in history. Totally unprepared for the journey ahead of him, Peter had been more than eager to outfit Max with all the fur he would need to survive the winter. He escorted Max down the Hudson River and saw to it that he got settled in without a need or want for anything. At first Peter thought his new Dominor had forgotten all of that when Max ordered him to New Celadonia, now British Columbia. Regardless, Peter followed orders and made his way, knowing his time in the east had been stretched a bit longer than it should have. It was shortly after his beloved fur trade had been ‘reorganized’ by the British that Max sent word that Peter would be his Principate for all the northern territories. Peter never forgot the feeling of elation and honor nor the twinge of shame at not having faith in his Dominor’s wisdom. He would never feel that shame again.

As the men enjoyed their meal, they talked of days long passed and laughed deep uproarious laughter. It was a rare and joyful moment.

“So the talk around the campfire is that your new Principate is a true novitiate.” Peter said then drank the last of his wine. “Should I be worried about my job security?”

Max smirked. “I had to make some painful choices, my friend. Let’s have our coffee on the deck, and I brought a present for you, from Niko.”

“Ah! I miss my drinking buddy!” Peter grinned, and they headed outside.

The rain stopped during the night, and though it was still quite cloudy, the temperature was unusually warm for April in Juneau. They sat in oversized chairs looking out over the cove while the fire pit staved off any chill. Malcolm sat the coffee service on the table between the men and placed the wrapped box for Peter, at Max’s request.

“Ah!” Peter eyed the box “Don’t tell me?”

“I had nothing to do with it.” Max assured him. “I am just the messenger.”

Peter ripped through the plain paper wrapping to reveal the beautiful black lacquered box with it’s white checks and gold embossed lettering. “Ah! I could kiss that man!” He quickly opened the box of Cohiba Behika cigars and breathed in their aroma. “Please tell me you’ll enjoy one with me?”

“Are you sure you want to waste one on me?” Max jested.

“I insist!” Peter was a huge cigar aficionado and had been the one to get Niko hooked on nicotine in the first place. “How I miss those days with Niko, Hemingway and warm Havana nights!”

“The stuff of ballads and poetry.” Max remembered them well and felt a deeper peace as he and Peter indulged in the Cuban contraband.

“Now you were saying about your new Principate? I look forward to meeting her this weekend!” Peter sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the hearth of the fire pit.

“You will like her.” Max blew out a thick stream of smoke. “She reminds me of us back in the day. Raw and uncensored.”

“Before we learned patience and diplomacy!” Peter said with a laugh. “It was a brilliant stroke, cleaning house swiftly and bringing in new blood. No pun intended.” They laughed.

“I am glad you approve. I fear there will be much more cleaning to come.” Max wanted to pick Peter’s brain about possible suspects but out in the open, he didn’t risk it. Instead they spoke of the Senatus, reminisced further on the old days and spent the afternoon enjoying Niko’s gift. It was a productive and long overdue visit, one Max was honestly sad to see come to an end. When Peter left long after the sun had set and a few glasses of cognac were consumed, his spirit was renewed and his focus much clearer. He made arrangements for the seaplane to pick him up Thursday morning but decided he was going to take tomorrow to enjoy a hike, meander around town, take in the majestic scenery and just breathe for a while on his own. He scanned the messages on his phone and only read the most recent from Niko.

“All is well. Stay as long as you need.”

Max turned the power off completely, changed for bed, wrapping himself in a fleece robe then heading back out onto the deck. It was freezing but another log on the fire, another cognac would do the trick. The clouds had parted, and the moon shone down on him with a crooked grin. Who was he kidding? Two more days of solitude would drive him insane. There was no way in hell he could resign or retire. He loved his life, his people, his world and as much as this little escape was needed, it wasn’t the way he intended to live the rest of his days. He had far too much to do and someone he intended to love, whether she liked it or not.

Every time Lou drove in Dillon’s SUV, she became more convinced
she would never drive her car again. It was less than twenty miles from Homicide Bureau to the meeting spot with the Beverly Hills Detectives but traveling through Midtown at that time a day was always a nightmare. However, Dillon’s magic bus, as Lou had taken to calling it, gave him turn by turn directions for an alternate route that had them parked in under forty-five minutes. Detective Chris Hass and his partner, Arnie Levine sat in front of the eatery on the sidewalk patio. Hass was a solid build man standing about six feet, two inches with immaculate grooming skills. His slicked back blond hair and freshly exfoliated complexion instantly made Lou feel self-conscious. She needed to remember to exfoliate more. No man should have better skin than she did. He wore a slim suit in a slate gray that was surprisingly wrinkle-free and nicely manicured hands that she couldn’t help but notice when he placed it over his heart and bowed his head. Lou had seen people make a similar gesture to Max before, and it was a little unsettling.

Hass’ partner, Arnie Levine, who greeted Lou in the same manner, was a sharp contrast to the golden boy with his shaved head and dark ebony skin that was a little worse for wear. Lou had looked both of the men up and was surprised that Arnold Levine was Haitian. His father was a Jewish Missionary, who met and married his mother in Haiti, where Arnie was born ten months later. Arnie’s father brought him and his mother back to California as soon as Arnie was old enough to travel and it had been happily ever after for his family since. A far cry from the poverty and corruption that his mother had grown up in.

“Principate, it’s an honor.” Hass gave a genuine smile. “Your reputation in law enforcement circles precedes you.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” Lou said with a bit of trepidation. “Please, call me Lou.”

“It is a good thing.” Hass set the record straight. “A lot of us were worried about who would take Gilroy’s place. You can imagine how far he fell in popularity over the past two years. It was a shock to learn how far he veered off the road.”

It felt odd to Lou to be talking about such things out in the open, even though they were the only people on the patio. Perhaps it was just her, not being familiar with her position yet.

“He wasn’t on the job though, right?” Lou asked him. It never occurred to her to look into the guy since he was toast before she ever came into the picture.

“Oh no!” Levine shuddered. “He was an Assistant District Attorney once upon a time if you can believe that!”

“Seriously? Dillon was shocked.

“Yep!” Hass scowled. “About eight years ago he was hired to consult on some cable show, and he got sucked into the Hollywood bullshit. Quit the D.A.’s office, got into some sort of entertainment firm thing and had been circling the drain ever since. He was a nightmare to deal with.”

“Why didn’t anyone report him to the Aegis?” Lou wanted to know.

“Honestly, most of us had no clue how bad it was.” Levine seemed a little embarrassed. “For the most part we’re all focused on our own districts and our day jobs. If nothing pop’s up in front of us, it’s pretty much an out of sight, out of mind thing, I am sorry to admit that. Probably not the greatest thing to say at a first meeting with our new Principate.”

“No, I appreciate your candor.” She meant that. “It helps me with learning what I need to be aware of moving forward.” Lou noticed the intensely worried look that just flashed on Levine’s face. “Not about you!” She laughed. “Me, how I need to make sure to keep in touch with all of you and vice versa. Checks and balances, right?” The men looked at each other and nodded. “This is a learning process for me, as I’m sure you know. I want you to feel free to call me out on stuff, or check up on me. This only works if we have each others back.”

It was a refreshing approach, by the look on their faces, that both Detectives appreciated. Dillon felt a rush of pride in Lou, seeing her tackling her new role with such humility and grace. “Well, now that’s out of the way, what can you share with us on Medina?” Dillon redirected the conversation as he noticed two women being seated a few tables away.

“We have good news and bad news.” Arnie, as he preferred to be called, informed them. “After the scene was released, the owner cleaned the place out entirely. Oh and they serve breakfast here all day and the eggs Benedict are excellent!”

Lou grinned. Maybe the food obsession was a cop thing. “Good to know, thanks.” Lou looked over the menu, and her stomach began to growl loudly.

“The good news is we don’t have to deal with the owner to get in. He listed it for sale Monday, so the realtor gave me the code for the lock box.” Hass set his menu down.

Dillon raised an eyebrow. “A lock box in Beverly Hills?”

Hass chuckled. “It’s on the side door, and there is nothing in the house. It’s empty. Evidently the owner wants the property gone. We only talked to him on the phone since he’s in Dubai. He has a dozen investment properties in L.A.”

“You talk to the M.E. On this?” Arnie asked.

“Yes. Anything pop out at you that would explain the Scopolamine?” Dillon asked.

Arnie shook his head. “Medina was into ecstasy and coke, maybe a little marijuana here and there. It was all about the feel good crap with him. The dude was a perv.”

“Yeah, we anticipated that.” Lou acknowledged as she and Dillon exchanged knowing glances. “Let’s order before we give you all the salients on our other two cases. I don’t want to totally ruin your appetite.” The men chuckled.

“We always get a couple crepes and split ‘em so leave room.” Arnie told them. “The chocolate banana are ridiculously good! You’re gonna love ‘em!”

After a scan of the menu, then a brief debate over the combo versus the chicken and hotcakes, they placed their orders and got another round of coffee. While they waited for their food, Lou and Dillon went over the Griffen and Rawlings cases including their theory of who they were looking for. As with Rawlings, Hunny Trainer never appeared in the Medina investigation. There still was no missing person’s report filed on Trainer, and they had no real reason to believe she had gone missing, but it didn’t ring right with Lou. After they finished with the Medina scene, she and Dillon planned to head over to Trainer’s former residence before they headed to the dojo. It was a packed day and she was grateful for it. She hadn’t thought of Max hardly at all.

Arnie was right. The chocolate banana crepes were ridiculously good, and both Lou and Dillon were so full that they wanted a nap.

BHPD graciously picked up the lunch tab then they were off to the former Medina residence. It was only about ten or eleven blocks away from the restaurant, so Lou paid careful attention to the area as they drove. Heading west on 3rd Street wasn’t very impressive as Beverly Hills went. A gas station, dry cleaners, all very similar to anything you would see in Tarzana. They passed a dialysis clinic, packed parking lots, tons of foot traffic and a few packed in apartment buildings as they passed Robertson Boulevard. Dillon was not impressed with Beverly Hills thus far.

“What’s the big deal about Beverly Hills?” He asked as they passed a homeless man changing on the sidewalk.

“Technically, this is West Hollywood still.” Lou corrected him. “We’re not far from West Hollywood Station, where we were yesterday.”

“Really?” He was surprised and looked at this navigation screen.

“Yeah.” Lou confirmed. “Like two blocks south is the line and maybe five more west? South of Burton and west of Doheny is the way I keep track.”

“Good to know.” Dillon noted the dozens of apartment buildings they were passing and the numerous ways in and out.

“Lots of alleys.” Lou said, apparently thinking the same thing.

As they came up to the Four Seasons Hotel on their left, the helpful navigation lady instructed Dillon he would be taking a right soon. When they hit South Doheny, he did as he was told. The area was still pretty nondescript and there weren’t any red light cams. After they had crossed Burton, Dillon noticed the Beverly Hills City Limit sign on the right, along with the no overnight parking sign. The homes were still not what he expected here. It was a slightly more upscale version of the Rawlings home but from what he knew, these houses had an extra zero tacked on to the price tag. Dillon followed Hass and Levine’s car as it made a right on Dayton, another right on Oakhurst then pulled over halfway up the block. These houses were more a mini version of what he had seen on television, but they were still very nice.

Of course, the front of the house in question was completely obscured by large palms and banana trees. You couldn’t even see the front porch. There was a streetlight across the road and one house over, but Lou doubted it provided much illumination at this distance. That with the landscaping, no one would have seen anyone enter or leave the residence. Lou walked up the street a bit and surveyed things. As if reading her mind, Dillon walked up the driveway, keeping to the side and trying to stay under cover. Lou shrugged her arms as if to say she had no clue where he was.

“We checked and double-checked, and no one saw anyone, not even Medina, coming or going.” Arnie told them as they waited for Hass to get the key from the lockbox. “The neighbors on this side are back east and the last time anyone could even remember seeing Medina was several weeks ago when he had some kind of party which our guys got called out to because of the music blasting after ten. I included the report with our files, but I talked to the officers that came out and they said it was pretty raunchy.”

“Raunchy?” Lou asked, her definition of raunchy having significantly changed in the last day.

Hass jogged up the steps waving the key. “You talking about the party?” He asked his partner as he unlocked the door.

“Yeah.” Arnie chuckled. “I’m trying to be delicate here, but they said it was pretty much an orgy, and that’s just what they could see from the front door.”

“You said the place was cleaned recently?” Dillon asked, causing them all to laugh as they walked in.

It was a beautifully done two story Mediterranean with creamy marble and dark hardwood floors that splashed up the swirling staircase. As they stepped in, it was starkly empty, not a stick of furniture, no window treatments, nothing. Hass went ahead and opened up the french doors to the back yard and waved them onward. The yard was a beautiful mixture of modern minimalist and old world Tuscan style. Off on the right was a long heavy wood pergola densely swagged with bougainvillea and ivy. The tightly planted boxwoods created a large privacy screen against the house to the north, so the thing as a whole created a complete canopy all the way to the gate that lead to the back alley. The back wall that separated the yard from the back street was a giant slab of gray concrete topped by a redwood lattice, woven with ivy for added privacy. There were a series of smaller, concrete rectangles jutting out of the main wall like steps, with waterfalls that ultimately fed into the square concrete jacuzzi. It was elevated and overlapped onto the pool that was almost flush with the grass. It was all very unfussy, ultra modern and took up more than three-quarters the width of the fifty-foot lot. If you looked carefully, there was significant discoloration. Whoever did the crime scene clean up just couldn’t quite get all the blood out. Concrete was quite porous and next to impossible to get stains out of though someone had tried very hard. It was convenient for the killer that the jacuzzi was tucked back in the far left corner, shrouded just as densely as the pergola on the right. Neighbors would never have seen anything.

As Lou approached the jacuzzi, she checked her phone for a text from Caroline. She should have checked earlier, but she had been a little preoccupied.

“Anything?” Dillon asked as he joined her to take a closer look at the spot where Marcus Medina’s head had been smashed off.

Lou nodded and shoved her phone back in her pocket. “Positive for Scopolamine.”

“Really?” Arnie asked from the edge of the pool. “That’s some nasty stuff.”

“Apparently.” Lou was learning just how nasty it was. “So our femme fatal slips the Scopolamine in the wine somehow, maybe excuses herself to change or sends him out first with the wine.” She was thinking out loud as she walked the yard.

“She could have blown it in his face, though.” Hass hypothesized. “Wouldn’t that have been the most expedient way?”

“Would she want to risk inhaling it herself?” Arnie seemed to disagree with his partner.

“Well since a swab of the inside of his nose was not an option, I guess we can’t really say for sure.” Dillon felt he needed to state the morbid obvious.

“He was nude in the jacuzzi, right?” Lou asked.

“Yeah.” Arnie confirmed but was not sure what that mattered.

Lou nodded and started pacing. “Griffen was in a hotel robe, and Rawlings was in a terry robe as well.” Lou scrambled for her phone and dialed Caroline.

“I just finished, Lou. Nothing to tell you that you don’t already know.” Her pal answered.

“Hey, yeah, that’s not what I’m calling about.” Lou spoke quickly, making the men think that she was on to something. “Can you tell if Rawlings and Griffen had recently showered or bathed?” They all stared at her while they waited for her to get an answer.