The Murder Book

'Open or reopened?'

'It was never closed, officially.'

'You're not saying the L.A. police have been working on this for twenty years?'

'Does that matter, ma'am?'

'No… I suppose not. I'm rambling… this is really… this takes me by total surprise. Why are you here?'

'Because you were one of the last people to see Janie Ingalls alive, but no one ever took your statement. In fact, it was only recently we learned you hadn't been a victim, yourself.'

'A victim? You thought… oh, my.'

'You've been hard to locate, Ms. Waters. So has your mother-'

'My mother died ten years ago,' she said. 'Lung cancer, back in Pennsylvania, where she was from. Before that, she had emphysema. She suffered a lot.'

'Sorry to hear that.'

'So was I,' said Waters. She picked a gold pen from several resting in a cloisonne cup, balanced it between the index fingers of both hands. The office was a jewel box, everything arranged with care. 'All this time you really thought I might be… how strange.' Weak smile. 'So I'm reborn, huh?'

The pen dropped and clattered to the desk. She snatched it up, placed it back in the cup.

'Ma'am, could you please tell us everything you remember about that night.'

'I did try to find out where Janie was. Called her father- you've met him?'

'He's dead too, ma'am.'

'How'd he die?'

'Car accident.'

'Driving drunk?'

'Yes.'

'No surprise there,' said Waters. 'What a lowlife, always plastered. He couldn't stand me, and the feeling was mutual. Probably because I knew he'd grope me if he had a chance, so I never gave him one- always made sure to meet Janie outside her building.'

'He came on to you?' said Milo.

'I never gave him a chance, but his intentions were obvious- leering, undressing me mentally. Plus, I knew what he'd done to Janie.'

'He abused Janie sexually?'

'Only when he was drunk,' said Waters, in mocking singsong. 'She never told me until shortly before she was… before I last saw her. I think what made her talk about it was she'd had a bad experience a month or so before that. She was hitching, got picked up by some deviant who took her to a hotel downtown, tied her up, had his way with her. When she first told me about it, she didn't seem very upset. Kind of blase, really, and at first I didn't believe her because Janie was always making things up. Then she pulled up her jeans and her top and showed me the rope marks where he'd tied up her ankles and her wrists. Her neck, too. When I saw that, I said, 'Jesus, he could've strangled you.' And she just clammed up and refused to say any more about it.'

'What did she tell you about the man who did this?'

'That he was young and nice-looking and drove a great car- that's why she said she went with him. But to tell the truth, she probably would've gone with anyone. A lot of the time Janie was out of it- stoned or drunk. She didn't have much in the way of inhibitions.'

She removed her glasses, played with the sidepieces, glanced at the photos of her family. 'Some lawyer I am, running my mouth. Before we go any further, I need your assurance that anything I tell you be kept confidential. My husband's a semipublic figure.'

'What does he do?'

'Jim's an aide to the governor. Liaison to the Highway Department. I keep my maiden name for work, but anything unsavory could still be traced back to him.'

'I'll do my best, ma'am.'

Waters shook her head. 'That's not good enough.' She stood. 'I'm afraid this meeting is adjourned.'

Milo crossed his legs. 'Ms. Waters, all we came here for are your recollections about Janie Ingalls. No assumption was made of any criminal involvement on your part-'

'You bet your boots no assumption was made.' Waters jabbed a finger. 'That didn't even cross my mind, for God's sake. But what happened to Janie twenty years ago isn't my problem. Safeguarding my privacy is. Please leave.'

'Ms. Waters, you know as well as I do that I can't guarantee confidentiality. That's the D.A.'s authority. I'm being honest, and I'd appreciate the same from you. If you've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about. And refusing to cooperate won't shield your husband. If I wanted to complicate his life, all I'd have to do is talk to my boss and he'd make a call, and…'

He showed her his palms.

Waters slapped her hands on her hips. Her stare was cold and steady. 'Why are you doing this?'

'In order to find out who murdered Janie Ingalls. You're right about one thing. It was obscene. She was tortured, burned with cigarettes, mutilat-'

'No, no, no! None of that shock treatment, give me some credit.'

Milo's palms pressed together. 'This has become needlessly adversarial, Ms. Waters. Just tell me what you know, and I'll do my utmost to keep you out of it. That's the best I can offer. The alternative means a bit more overtime for me and a lot more complication for you.'

'You have no jurisdiction in New Mexico,' said Melinda Waters. 'Technically, you're trespassing.'

'Technically, you're still a material witness, and last time I checked New Mexico had diplomatic relations with California.'

Waters looked at her family again, sat back down, put her glasses back on, mumbled, 'Shit.'

The three of us sat in silence for a full minute before she said, 'This isn't fair. I'm not proud of the kind of kid I was back then, and I'd like to forget it.'

I said, 'We've all been teenagers.'

'Well, I was a rotten teenager. A total screwup and a stoner, just like Janie. That's what drew us together. Bad behavior- Jesus, I don't think a day went by when we weren't getting loaded. And… other things that give me a migraine when I think about them. But I pulled myself out of it- in fact, the process started the day after Janie and I split up.'

'At the party?' said Milo.

Waters grabbed for another pen, changed her mind, played with a drawer-pull- lifting the brass and letting it drop, once, twice, three times.

She said, 'I've got kids of my own, now. I set limits, am probably too strict because I know what's out there. In ten years, I haven't touched anything stronger than chardonnay. I love my husband. He's going places. My practice is rewarding- I don't see why any of that should be derailed because of mistakes I made twenty years ago.'

'Neither do I,' said Milo. 'I'm not taking notes, and none of that goes in any file. I just want to know what happened to Janie Ingalls that Friday night. And anything else you can tell me about the man who raped her downtown.'

'I told you everything I know about him.'

'Young and nice-looking with a nice car.'

'The car could've been Janie's fantasy.'

'How young?'

'She didn't say.'

'Race?'

'I assume he was white, because Janie didn't say he wasn't. And she would've. She was a bit of a racist- got it from her father.'

'Any other physical description?'

'No.'

'A fancy car,' said Milo. 'What kind?'

'I think she said a Jaguar, but I can't be sure. With fur rugs- I do remember that because Janie talked about how her feet sank into the rug. But with Janie, who knows? I'm trying to tell you: She was always fantasizing.'