Guilt

“Anyone can get taken, ma’am.”

“There wasn’t a hint of anything off. She was kind to Boo, Boo liked her, and Boo doesn’t take to everyone. I liked her. That’s why when she got pregnant and her energy flagged, I took pity on her and helped her out by hiring another person.”

“Adriana Betts.”

“You’re going to tell me that one was an ax murderer?”

“No, ma’am. Clean-living church-girl. How’d she and Simone get along?”

“Fine,” she said. “Why?” She shuddered. “Oh, of course. He killed her, too, so she was connected.” She rubbed her face. That plus the pacing; Milo’s spiritual sister. “What was her story?”

“I was wondering if you knew.”

“Well, I don’t. Adriana was … there seemed nothing complicated about her. Then again, I liked Simone.” She laughed. “To think I helped her with her pregnancy-gave her clothes, books, encouraged her to take it easy.”

“Adriana came on to relieve Simone.”

“Yes.”

“Your suggestion or Simone’s?”

“Mine. I used the same agency and once Simone was gone Adriana took over completely, did a great job. Then she walked out on me, too. Or so I thought.”

“Did you try to find out why she left?”

She threw up her hands. “My life is hectic, people come and go, you have no idea how hard it is to find dependable help.”

“Like Mel Wedd,” said Milo. “Did he work for Mr. Rader as well as for you?”

“He was the estate manager and, technically, all three properties are the estate. But his day-to-day job was under my supervision.”

“How did he and Mr. Rader get along?”

“He didn’t respect Donny. Or so he told me.”

“Why?”

“Because of Donny’s behavior.”

“Promiscuity.”

She ticked her fingers. “Promiscuity, being constantly stoned, never taking responsibility. Mostly, not caring about the kids. Mel thought that was unconscionable.”

Milo said, “Mr. Rader shut the kids out of his life.”

“To shut them out, he’d have to be aware of them, Lieutenant. He acted as if they didn’t exist. How do you explain that to a child?”

Her hand touched her mouth. “I guess with that attitude, doing things to a baby isn’t so big a stretch.”

Milo said, “Back to Mel Wedd for a moment. Any idea why Mr. Rader would kill him? Assuming he did.”

Another easy opening, if she was manipulating. Once again, she didn’t take it. “No. I can’t imagine.”

Milo looked at me again.

I shrugged. Still your play, Big Guy.

He said, “Was Mr. Wedd involved in any of Mr. Rader’s activities with women?”

“Mel? Why would you ask that?”

“Wedd’s been spotted in the company of several attractive women. Streaming in and out of his apartment. Including Simone Chambord.”

“You’re saying Mel pimped for that bastard?”

“Or he might have been in charge of the finances.”

“What finances?”

“Paying women off when Mr. Rader was through with them. In Simone Chambord’s case, that may have included getting a car for her. A red BMW. It once belonged to Mr. Wedd but he reported it stolen and Simone Chambord was seen driving it.”

“Oh, this is all too much. What else do you want to drop on me, Lieutenant?”

“That’s it.”

“Insanity,” she said. “Okay, now what do we do about it?”

CHAPTER 52

The plan was logical, meticulous, elegant in its simplicity.

Even in the chief’s grudging appraisal. “Assuming you’re lucky, Sturgis.”

At eight thirty a.m., two days after my session with Prema Moon, the tutors from Oxford Educational Services drove through the stout wooden gate of her estate.

Newly scheduled all-day trip to SeaWorld, in San Diego, the kids had visited last year, begged to return. Prema had punted with the classic parental “Soon, one day.”

At seven thirty she announced, “Surprise!” to a quartet of sleepy young faces.

“How come, Mom?”

“Because Sam and Julie say you’ve all been great with your studies.”

“Oh.”

“Whoa. Cool.”

“When are we going?”

“Right now, everyone get dressed. Afterward, Sam and Julie will take you to a great Mexican restaurant and you can all stay up late.”

Mumbled thanks. Big smile from Boo.

At ten fourteen a.m. a brown, dust-caked, kidney-punishing Dodge van rolled through that same gate. Entering Prema’s spread required a thousand feet of climbing past the wrought-iron barrier that blocked access to the tree-shrouded private road. At the top were three identical barriers of weathered oak inlaid with oversized black nail-heads, each equipped with a call box.

Per directions, Milo drove up to the left-hand box. As we waited to enter, I spotted a black glass eye peering from the boughs of a pine. Closed-circuit lens focused on Prema’s gate. Then another, aimed at Donny Rader’s. Maybe he’d installed his own security system. Or Prema cared more about his comings and goings than she’d let on.

I pointed the cameras out to Milo. His placid nod said he’d already seen them.

Four beeps from the call box, the gate swung open smoothly, we rattled through. The brown van had been borrowed from the Westside LAPD impound yard. Cheap stick-on signs on each flank read Adaptive Plumbers. The 213 number below was printed in numerals too small to read from a distance. If someone actually called it, they’d get a disconnect.

I sat up front in the shotgun seat. Behind me was a tech sergeant named Morry Burns who occupied himself playing Sudoku online. The slew of equipment he’d brought, including a portable dolly, occupied the van’s rear storage area. Behind Burns sat K-9 specialist Tyler O’Shea and a panting retriever mix named Sally.

Milo said, “Pooch okay?”

O’Shea said, “She’s awesome. Lives to do the job.”

“All-American work ethic.”

“El Tee, I’ll take her any day over your garden-variety so-called human.”

Prema Moon was waiting for us in the parking lot west of her mansion. The area was an easy acre, paved beautifully, ringed by river rock, cordoned by low privet hedges. Space for dozens of cars but only four today, all compact sedans. Three bore the bumper sticker of a Spanish-language Christian station. The fourth had customized plates reading TRFFLES.

The mansion hovered in the distance, a frothy, pink-beige Mediterranean that almost succeeded in looking