“Evening, Mr. Barnett,” the guard said. He was wearing a name tag that said Earl.
“Evening, Earl.” He handed the man a hundred-dollar bill. “It’s unlikely that anyone would ask, but if anyone does, I’ve been in my bed all night.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Barnett. I’ll see that the logbook jibes with that.”
“Thanks, Earl, and good night.” Five minutes later he slid into bed beside Sally.
She snuggled close. “I don’t want to know where you’ve been,” she said.
“I haven’t been anywhere,” Teddy replied, kissing her. “I’ve been right here beside you all night.”
“Of course you have.”
? ? ?
TEDDY’S CELL PHONE rang at seven AM. “Hello?” he said sleepily.
“Mr. Barnett?”
“Yes. What time is it?”
“Seven-oh-six,” the man said. “I’m sorry to wake you so early, but this is Detective Schwartz of the LAPD. I wanted you to know that there was an incident at your home in Malibu last night. Where are you?”
“I’m staying with a friend in Bel-Air.”
“That’s just as well. There are still officers at your home. Two police officers were wounded there last night, one of them fatally.”
“Who are they?”
“Detectives Carlos Rivera and Joseph Rossi, who is the deceased.”
“Detective Rivera called me last night and said he thought there might be an intruder in my house. I told him where to find a key. I’m sorry to hear what happened.”
“Detective Rivera is recovering at the UCLA Medical Center. He should be out of the hospital in a couple of days.”
“I’m glad to hear it. When will your people have my house cleared?”
“This morning sometime.”
“Well, I’m enjoying my friend’s place, so I think I’ll stay another day or two.”
“May I ask where you’re staying?”
“My friend has a cottage at the Arrington Hotel.”
“I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable. May I contact you at this number should I have any questions?”
“Of course. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”
? ? ?
STONE BARRINGTON WAS having breakfast at Ana’s house in Santa Fe when his cell rang. “Hello?”
“Hi, Stone, it’s Cupie.”
“Good morning, Cupie. You’re up early.”
“I had a worm to catch. Listen, I thought you’d like to know that the heat seems to be off Dax Baxter. He called a few minutes ago and told me to pull my guys off him.”
“Did he say what the reason was for his new confidence?”
“He said the guy who was after him is dead.”
Stone’s stomach lurched. “Good luck to him,” he said. “Gotta run.”
“See ya, Stone.” They both hung up.
Stone immediately called Billy Barnett.
“Hello?”
“Billy?”
“Good morning.”
“I’m relieved to hear your voice,” Stone said.
“Relieved? Why?”
“I just got a call from a PI I know, and he told me you were dead.”
“Let me see,” Teddy said. “No, I’ve still got a pulse. Where did he hear that?”
“From Dax Baxter. He had four men protecting him, and he told my friend to call them off.”
“Because I’m dead?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Listen, Stone, we’re really enjoying the house.”
“Stay as long as you like, Billy, and take care of yourself.”
The two men hung up.
? ? ?
SALLY NUDGED TEDDY. “What was that about your having a pulse?”
“I do,” Teddy said. “Why don’t you feel around for it, just to be sure.”
“Love to,” she replied.
? ? ?
CARLOS RIVERA WOKE up with sunlight streaming through a window. Chita was asleep in a reclining chair next to his bed. He reached out and tweaked a toe.
Chita sat up, blinking. “You’re awake!”
“And alive, too.”
“How do you feel?”
“Surprisingly good. My chest is kind of sore.”
“When they told me you had a chest wound, I nearly died,” she said.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“You know about Joe.”
He nodded. “I wasn’t careful enough.”
There was a knock at the door, and Rivera looked up to find his LAPD and BHPD captains standing there.
“Ah, you’re awake,” Fitzhugh said.
“Awake and hungry, sir,” Rivera replied.
“I’ll go get you some breakfast,” Chita said, and disappeared into the hallway.
The two men pulled up chairs. “First of all,” Fitzhugh said, “we both want you to know how bad we feel about Joe Rossi.”
Carlos nodded. “Thank you, sir, both of you. I should have gone in first, but Joe got ahead of me. Any news on the perp?”
“A call came in last night from a Dr. Schweitzer, who had been called to the perp’s trailer to treat a gunshot wound. He found Kasov dead—probably your bullet. We’re running the ballistics now. Another man was present, who knifed the doctor—non-fatal wound.”
“What other man?”
“He told the doctor his name was Dax Baxter. We’ve got him down at the station now, but he’ll be released soon. He had four security guys sitting on him at his house, and they backed him up, said he never left. Any idea who else the guy could be?”
“No, sir.”
“We were thinking, maybe, the owner of the Malibu house where you and Rossi were found. Kasov had stolen his car to make his getaway.”
“Barnett? No, sir, I don’t think so. We thought Sergei Kasov might be in his house. We found a stolen motorcycle abandoned nearby. I called Barnett, and he told me where to find a key.”
“Where was he when you spoke?”
“At the Arrington Hotel, in Bel-Air.”
“Well, he’s still there with his girlfriend, and, according to her, as well as the security log, he hasn’t left the property since arriving there yesterday.”
“Any other suspects?”
“None.”
“What kind of a doctor responds to a gunshot victim in a private home without calling nine-one-one?”
“We’re looking into the good doctor. He was very well equipped to treat the victim, but he didn’t get there fast enough.”
“Well, I’m not unhappy that Kasov is dead, and I hope it was my bullet.”
They chatted for a moment longer, then left.
Chita came back with a nurse who bore eggs and bacon. She looked at her watch. “I’d better get to work. You going to be okay?”
“You don’t have to rush. I hear Dax is going to be late.” He explained what had happened.
“Well, in that case,” she said, “I’ll beat him to Burbank.” She kissed him and left.
Rivera finished his eggs, then fell asleep again. He really hoped it was his bullet that killed Kasov.
56
DAX DROVE FROM the police station back to his house, showered and changed clothes, then drove to his office.
“Morning, boss,” Chita said brightly. “Good trip to Santa Fe?”
“Very good,” Dax replied. “Hal Palmer is coming in at noon to work on a screenplay with me. Order us a good lunch from the commissary.”
“Okay, boss.”
? ? ?
TEDDY GOT A call from the LAPD later in the morning, saying that a Mercedes convertible registered in his name that had been reported stolen had been found at a trailer park on the Pacific Coast Highway, undamaged. He was told where he could recover it. He hung up. “They found your car,” he said.
“I didn’t know it was lost.”
“I forgot to tell you. Somebody stole it last night. We’ll pick it up later today at the police pound.” He called the office and told them he would be out a couple more days. “If anyone calls, say that I’m not at work and you don’t know when to expect me.”
? ? ?
RIVERA GOT A CALL from Captain Fitzhugh later in the morning. “You’ll be happy to know that the bullet found in Kasov matches your gun’s ballistics on file.”
“Thank you, sir, that’s good news.”
“The LAPD is very impressed with you, Carlos.”
“Oh?”
“Well, in a matter of days you solved the shooting of their two detectives and shot their assailant. It was intimated to me that if you’d like to go work over there, they’d be glad to have you.”
“That’s very flattering, sir.”
“On the other hand, Lieutenant Goodwin is up for retirement in a few months, and if you’d like to continue working here, I’d be disposed to promoting you to head of the squad.”
“That sounds great, sir.”
“Then you’d better start studying for the lieutenant’s exam, which happens in three months.”