to the front of the restaurant, the VW was gone.
CHAPTER 31
I parked three blocks from Alma Reynolds’s building, walked back to her corner, and watched from behind an old, dusty coral tree.
Mr. Covert Operations. When I wasn’t feeling ridiculous, my mind raced.
Forty minutes later Reynolds hadn’t returned, and I figured I’d screwed up and caused her to run. I was sure she’d financed the pearl with payoff money Duboff had left behind.
Envelope passed in the parking lot. Donation or bribe?
Either way, nothing indicated a link to Duboff’s murder.
I returned to the Seville. Drove a block before Milo called.
“Huck lawyered up.”
“You got him.”
“Not exactly.”
Debora Wallenburg’s law firm took up the top two floors of an ice cube on Wilshire, five blocks east of the ocean. Names crowded the door; Wallenburg was ranked second.
She was fifty or so, green-eyed and apple-cheeked, with a sturdy body packed into a gray cashmere suit. Platinum rings, diamond earrings, and a triple string of pearls bounced light in interesting ways. The pearls were pinkish silver, graduated in size; my slightly educated guess was ten to fifteen millimeters.
Good-looking woman, with the confidence to keep her feathered hair the same color as the suit. She’d deflected Milo ’s invitation to the station, insisted her office would be preferable.
Now she sat behind a leather-topped desk, listening to someone on the phone named Lester. Tiffany gilt-bronze pieces livened the desk’s surface, including an elaborate lamp with a glass shade crimped to look like paper. The rear wall was devoted to a Mary Cassatt mother-and-child pastel, the perfect image of tenderness. The absence of family photos or anything kid-related turned great art into a prop.
Milo and Reed and I stood like supplicants while Wallenburg laughed at something Lester said. The decor was a thousand square feet of over-the-top: arterial red brocade walls, layer-cake moldings, copper-foil ceiling, teal-and- lavender Aubusson rug over teak planks. The fourteenth-story view was charcoal street, aluminum water, rust- colored talons of coastline scratching at the ocean.
I tried to figure out if the Vanders’ house could be seen. Decided I was overreaching.
Wallenburg said, “You’re kidding, Les,” and turned in a way that directed my eyes to a side wall bearing Ivy League degrees and bar association awards.
She said, “Okay, thanks, Les,” hung up. “Sit, if you’d like, gentlemen.”
We arranged ourselves in front of the desk. Milo said, “Thanks for meeting with us, Ms. Wallenburg.”
“Thanks for making the dangerous trek all the way from the wilds of West L.A. ” Wallenburg smiled frostily, glanced at her watch.
Milo said, “If you know where Travis Huck is-”
“Before we get into that, Lieutenant, I’m going on record: You’re wrong about Travis. Couldn’t be more mistaken. What evidence do you have to justify naming him a suspect?”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I need to be asking the questions.”
“With all due respect, Lieutenant, I need to prevent a second gross miscarriage of justice. Step One in that process is clarifying what you think you know that justifies ruining my client’s life.
“What’s Step Two?”
“That depends on how One shapes up.”
“Ms. Wallenburg, I understand your point of view, but disclosure will take place if and when Mr. Huck is charged with a crime.”
“Sounds like you’ve already judged him.”
Milo didn’t answer. Debora Wallenburg picked up a Tiffany pen and suspended it between her fingertips. “Sorry for making you come out here for nothing. Do you need your parking validated?”
“Ma’am, if you’re harboring Huck, you could be putting yourself in-”
“Now it begins. The veiled threats.” Green eyes narrowed. “Give it your best shot, Lieutenant. I’ve already begun the paperwork on a massive civil suit.”
“Step Two, already?” said Milo.
“I’m sure we’re all busy, Lieutenant.”
“Are you suing at Mr. Huck’s request? Or is it your idea?”
Wallenburg shook her head. “You’re not going to pry information out of me.”
“Ma’am, this isn’t the time for jousting. We’re talking five known murders, with several more likely. Brutal, calculated slaughter. Do you really want to hitch your wagon to someone like that?”
“Hitch my wagon? I have no interest in publicity, Lieutenant Sturgis. Quite the opposite. For the last ten years, I’ve done corporate litigation because I had my
“Ten years,” said Milo. “Forgive me, but is it possible you’re out of your element?”
“Or you are, sir,” said Debora Wallenburg. “In fact, I
“Corporate litigation gets that nasty?”
“Witty, Lieutenant. Bottom line: I’m not harboring Travis, neither am I aware of his whereabouts.”
“But you’ve been in contact with him.”
The pen clicked. “I’m going to give you some free legal advice: Avoid tunnel vision and prevent a huge mess for all concerned.”
“Any suggestions about alternative suspects, ma’am?”
“That’s not my job.”
Moe Reed huffed. If Wallenburg noticed, she didn’t show it.
Milo said, “Huck fled. Not the behavior of an innocent man.”
“It is when that man has been abused by the system.”
“He called you because you saved him before. You advised him not to inform you of his whereabouts. Or his guilt. That way, you couldn’t be subpoenaed to divulge. All legal, Ms. Wallenburg, but it skirts the moral issue. If Huck kills again, do you want it on your conscience?”
“Oh, please, Lieutenant. You should write screenplays.”
“I’ll leave that to disillusioned lawyers.”
Wallenburg shifted her focus to me. Searching for the good kid in the classroom. When I didn’t respond, she looked at Reed.
He said, “Huck will be found, tried, and convicted. Make it easy.”
“On who?”
“Let’s start with the victims’ families,” said Reed.
“Easy for everyone but Travis,” said Wallenburg. “Nineteen years ago, he was hauled in like garbage, tried before a kangaroo court, tortured-”
“Who tortured him?” said Milo.
“His so-called caretakers. Haven’t you read my appeals brief?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I’ll fax you a copy.”
Reed said, “Whatever happened back then doesn’t change the facts now. You’re so sure he’s innocent but you’ve got nothing to back that up.”
Wallenburg laughed. “Do you really think you’re going to pry facts out of me by insulting me? How about
