The White Angel Murder (20 page)

“
What’dya want, Mike?”

“
Now that you’re in more of dealing mood, we can talk. Noah Sherman. I got him released into my custody.”

“
Why?”

“
He’s helping with a cold case.”

“
How’d you manage that?”

“
That’s not your concern. Here’s what your concern is: you can’t write about it. Don’t snoop around, don’t ask questions, don’t call any of your boys. You leave this alone. I don’t want the public to know about this.”

“
I’m not the only reporter in town.”

“
No, but for some reason I think you’re the only one that would find out. You got the deepest contacts and I’ve seen how you operate. You wait until the crowd’s gone and then come over and ask your questions and get what you want. You’re a perverted little scumbag weasel, but you’re a good reporter.”

Despite the blood pouring over his hand, Royal felt a small gleam of pride. Legitimacy was something he had coveted since his days writing five hundred word op/eds for a porno magazine in Los Angeles.

“
So I don’t report on it and you don’t arrest me?”

“
And when I catch the cocksucker I want to catch, you can break the story and get exclusive interviews with me and Noah. I won’t give it to any other reporters.”

“
Shit, count me in.”

“
You know, Hunter, that’s what I’ve always liked about you. You know when you’re outmatched. Now get the fuck outta my car. And no more teenagers.”

Royal was thrown out and fell to the pavement. He stood up and flipped Harlow off as the car sped away.

42

It was nearly ten at night by the time Harlow walked out to his car from the San Diego PD headquarters. The air was warm and it was a full moon. He leaned against his car for a few minutes and stared at it. It was incredible, he thought, that that rock was what Caesar and Napoleon and George Washington and Al Capone and all the other people he had read about growing up looked up to and saw in the sky. The same moon. It gave him some comfort that there was continuity in his species. He was not religious, bowing and praising someone or something else had never appealed to him. Life to him was random chance that could’ve happened on a million different worlds but ended up happening here. But the moon that he looked at now was the same moon his ancestors saw. Life moved on.

He didn’t feel like going home to his wife. That relationship had ended years ago. They were now roommates, sharing the same space because it was more convenient than going through the hassle of a divorce and custody battle. They had sat down at the kitchen table and talked it through, rationally. Less rational people wouldn’t have been able to do it and he was pleased when she was receptive.

They had agreed they would stay together but live separate lives. They belonged to different gyms, they had different circles of friends, they went on separate vacations, and above all, they slept in different bedrooms. It had been working fine for quite some time until Harlow saw her on a date with another man. They had also agreed that they would see other people, but there was a world of difference between theory and practice. When he actually saw it, he longed for her and rage filled him. The man had been lucky Harlow was at the restaurant with other officers. He knew that for sure.

It had been confusing lately however. They had begun eating dinner as a family for the kids. They had started talking again, reconnecting. She had even asked him where he was when he had come home late one night. There would have to be another conversation and the dinners would have to end if it was going to work.

Harlow climbed in and began driving. He decided he didn’t feel like taking the freeway just yet. He drove down a residential neighborhood and saw the lights on in a large white house. A couple sat watching television in the living room and Harlow remembered it was Friday night. He had missed the fights and he didn’t have a date for tonight. It would be warmed up leftovers and pornography. But he would hit the gym in the morning and see what he could find there. Sometimes it only took him a couple of hours of faking exercise to strike up just the right conversation with just the right person. Once he had even banged an older aerobics instructor in his car in the gym parking lot.

He parked the car at the curb and observed the couple. The male had his arm around a young blond and they were watching
The Royal Tenenbaums
. Her face wasn’t visible at the angle he was at but he could see her sockless feet up on the coffee table. They were smooth and milky white with brightly colored toenails.

There was a squeal behind him and then the red and blues filled his car with light. A patrolman had pulled up behind him. The officer stepped out of the car with a flashlight and came to the driver side window. He tapped on the glass with his knuckles and Harlow rolled down the window.

“
License, registration and proof of insurance please.”

“
You’re new to the force, aren’t you Officer … Mesels.”

“
License, registration and proof of insurance, please. Now.”

“
Sure.”

Harlow handed him the documents and the officer went back to his cruiser. It was a Dodge Charger, one of the two dozen Harlow had commissioned for the traffic squad. The old model Fords the city used to buy simply couldn’t keep up with the newer vehicles coming out. There had been more one than suspect vehicle that had gotten away because the older cars were too slow and the chopper was busy. Harlow had gone to the mayor and gotten the extra funds he needed in less than three hours.

The officer was gone at least ten minutes. Harlow guessed it took him two to run his name, and then the rest of the time to figure out a way to apologize without coming off as a sycophant. Apologize too much, and you seem like you’re apologizing for doing your job. Apologize too little, and you offend the boss. It was a tough spot for a patrolman to be in and it was one Harlow enjoyed watching.

After twelve minutes, the officer came back. He handed the documents back to Harlow and said, “Everything looks fine. Have a good night.”

Harlow watched as the patrolman walked back to his car and then pulled away. Well done, he thought. He appeared like he didn’t know what he had done and could later claim ignorance, but still didn’t follow up with any questions or citations. Harlow had been pulled over several times as both assistant chief and chief and no one had ever played it quite so well.

He turned back to the couple on the couch but they had closed the blinds. Harlow sighed and pulled away from the curb.

The city was quiet tonight as he drove but it was a false quiet. Like someone inhaling a deep breath before shouting. Friday and Saturday nights were when madness took to the streets and the clubs and the bars. California had more madness than anywhere else in the country. Something about the people or the climate attracted madness from all over the nation. And he saw it now. In the movements of the pimps avoiding him. In the nakedness of the prostitutes he saw standing on the corners and propositioning him. In the eyes of the killers looking at him.

He came to a red light and a car full of girls rolled to a stop next to him. They giggled and he smiled at them but they turned away. He motioned for them to roll down their window but they didn’t respond. As they pulled away he caught himself in the rearview and saw the gray in his hair and wrinkles around his eyes. It took someone honking behind him to get the car moving again.

Harlow pulled into a burger joint. It was one where you could park outside and the waitress would come to you. A tray attached to the window and you could eat in your car. The waitress appeared old and spoke with a smoker’s cough that interrupted her often. Harlow ordered a burger and fries with water and ate slowly, watching the people in the cars around him.

In the car across from him, two kids that couldn’t have been older than seventeen were getting stoned. Next to them, a family was enjoying their meal. And on the other side two thugs blared Fat Joe, the bass shaking the windows of the restaurant.

When he finished he gave the waitress a decent tip and then circled around the restaurant once before heading home.

It took nearly an hour to get home and when he got to his driveway, another car was already parked there. He parked behind it and ran into the house. If there was a man in his house, inside of his wife, there was going to be hell to pay.

He opened the front door and got to the kitchen where he saw Melissa Stanton and his wife sipping coffee and talking. They both looked at him silently a moment before his wife excused herself and left the two of them alone.

“
What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“
Making friends. Crystal’s actually delightful. I don’t know why you didn’t ever bring her around.”

“
None of your fucking business and I asked you a question.”

“
You really think you could do this to me and nothing would happen?”

“
Do what?”

“
He’s the father of my children, Mike. The father of my children! You think I’d let my kids go through life thinking their father’s a murderer. Getting comments and stares their whole life, not being invited to birthday parties and baseball games.”

“
Not my problem.”

“
Oh, but it is your problem,” she said, stepping to within a couple of feet of him. “Because you’re going to fix this and get those charges dropped.”

Harlow chuckled. “I’ve always admired your balls. Now, please, get the fuck outta my house.”

“
I know where the skeletons are buried. I will destroy you, even if it destroys me in the process.”

“
You don’t know shit,” he said, uncertainty in his voice.

“
Oh yeah? You don’t actually think Jon never told me anything you told him, do you? Do you remember smoking a fat joint and drinking Cristal in a hot tub in Vegas with him? You told him what you did and then you started crying like a baby. He followed up on it, the young man in New Hampshire. Just to see if it actually happened. And now I know where he is. I have his phone number. And he is really anxious to know who you are.”

The color in his face was gone and he couldn’t think of what to say. He stood silently and watched her.

“
Fix it asshole. Right away. If the charges aren’t dropped by tomorrow I’m calling the FBI.”

“
I can’t do it by tomorrow.”

“
Not my problem,” she said, imitating his voice. “And just in case you want to get crazy, I told Lance everything. And he told his staffer. Anything happens to me and they will burn you.”

As she left the house, Harlow slumped down onto the linoleum. He put his face in his hands and thought about what to do, but nothing came. There were always calculations running in his head, guesswork as to the next move and the next advantage. But now his mind was blank and he couldn’t formulate even the most basic thoughts.

He picked up the phone, and dialed Tommy’s number.

43

Stanton stopped at the mechanic’s shop and parked near the front next to a minivan. The shop was dingy and stunk of grease and the exterior looked like an abandoned gas station. He asked the cashier at the front for Louis and then sat on a fake leather couch and flipped through an issue of Time.

“
Johnny!”

Stanton smiled and stood up as Louis hugged him and slapped his back. He’d gained weight and was now at least fifty pounds heavier than when Stanton last saw him, and he was tipping the scales even then.

“
How are ya, Louis?”

“
Good man, what’s up wit you?”

“
Nothing much. Same old same old.”

“
Yeah? How’s Melissa and your boys.”

“
Fine. But we’re divorcing.”

“
No shit? Ah, I’m sorry brother. What happened? You two seemed like you was perfect.”

“
It was an act, I guess. Not from my end of it though.”

“
Ah fuck man. I’m sorry. Look, my Juanita’s got this cousin man, Angelica, yo she is hot. Big tits, beautiful smile, man.”

“
Maybe some other time.”

“
All right man, but you hit me up if you get lonely.”

“
I will.”

“
So what’s up? What you need?”

“
I need to get rid of my car and get a new one.”

“
Yeah? There’s a dealer that’s a homie a mine that’s got some—”

“
No, not like that.”

Louis looked at him a second and then said, “Oh, no shit? Awight. Well, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“
I know.”

“
Hang out a sec, lemmie see what I got.”

He went out to the back of the building and then stuck his head out of a door and motioned for Stanton to follow him. Behind the building was a massive field filled with cars. Many of them were out of service and used for spare parts, but there were a few that could still function and even a couple of luxury cars that had been abandoned by people in a hurry to get rid of them.

“
I got a Beamer over there, 96. It’s awight but gots some problems with the catalytic converter. I got a old Taurus too, it’s that red one right there.”

“
I’ll take the Taurus.”

“
You sure, man? The Beamer’s a nice ride.”