Time Bomb

Frisk made a conscious effort to relax, smiled, and gave a dismissive wave. Milo shouted something. He must have sprayed Frisk with spit, because the younger man stepped back several paces, yanked his red handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his face. Frisk smiled again and spoke. Milo flinched as if he’d been slapped. His fingers opened, curled, and tightened. Frisks turn to rock on the balls of his feet. Subtly, but eagerly, like a hungry welterweight. For a moment I was certain they were going to come to blows. Then Frisk turned heel and stomped away.

Milo watched him go, knuckling his chin. Frisk called a uniformed cop over, talked rapidly, began pointing at the murder duplex. The cop nodded and crossed the street to the building. The dark-haired young woman stepped out of the Fiero again. Frisk whipped his head in her direction and gave her a hard look. She got back in the car.

I looked over at Milo. He was staring at the growing hubbub near the barricade, a frightful look on his face. I stayed in place, catching curious glances from cops. Finally Milo saw me and waved me over.

“Get me the hell outa here, Alex.”

The Seville was parked facing south. I drove away from the crime scene, got on Olympic, heading west. We didn’t talk all the way to Beverly Glen. As I turned off, he said, “The slick fuck.”

“What’d he do, take over?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“He can do that? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“That mean he suspects it’s political?”

“He doesn’t suspect shit. No one knows shit- it’s too early to know shit, goddammit. What it means is that he sees it as a goddam juicy one. More TV time, chance to wear another fancy suit. Kenny do love his press conferences.”

“Kenny,” I said. “Out on the town with Barbie- there’s a real Kenny and Barbie.”

“That’s Mrs. Kenny. The adorable, spoiled Kathy. Assistant Chief’s favorite daughter.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

I drove quickly up the Glen, reached the bridle path that leads to the house, and turned onto it. Though the view out the passenger window was solid black, Milo was staring at it, rubbing his face.

I said, “Did he do anything else to piss you off?”

“To piss me off? Nah. Just implied that you and I had a romantic thing going- gave a dirty little smile and told me I should think twice before bringing my friends to crime scenes. When I asked him to clarify that, he said I knew what he meant. I kept bugging him. Finally he let it out: People of my ilk were ill-suited for security cases. Ill-suited for guarding the public safety.”

I blew out air. “Okay. So it’s the same old limited thinking. Not the first time, won’t be the last.” But I couldn’t help thinking it was the same thing he and I had suspected about Dinwiddie and Ike.

He grunted.

I said, “Is it safe to ask you what you think?”

“About what?”

“Massengil. Whodunit. Think there’s any relationship to Holly? Or Novato and Gruenberg?”

“Who the hell knows, Alex? What’re you trying to do, make me feel downright impotent?”

I said nothing, pulled up in front of the house.

He said, “All right, what’s on your mind?”

“Maybe someone avenged her.”

“Who? Daddy?”

“I wasn’t thinking of him. Why? Do you suspect him?”

“I don’t suspect anything, Alex. Haven’t had time to suspect. It’s not even my fucking case anymore so why should I bother to suspect? But if you’re talking revenge, revenge is usually a family thing. And you told me Burden’s a nut.”

“Not a nut. Narcissistic.”

“Revenge is pretty narcissistic, isn’t it? Playing God, power over life and death. You told me yourself he’s a control freak. Bragged about being good with guns.”

I thought about that. “Planning to talk to him?”

“I’m not talking to anybody. Per the slick fuck.”

“You can’t challenge him?”

He didn’t answer and I regretted asking.

I said, “Permit me a bit more theorizing?”

“Stop asking permission as if I’m some sort of prima donna and just spit it out.”

“When I mentioned revenge, I was thinking of something else. The cabal. Other members. Setting out to avenge her. And carry out the assignment that she failed to complete.”

“Assignment? Alex, if you were serious about political assassination, would you assign someone like her to do it?”

“Granted we’re talking the amateur hour,” I said. “But competence isn’t always the rule of thumb for those kinds of groups, is it? Look at the Symbionese Liberation Army.”

“Ye olde Crispy Critters,” he said. “Yeah, those guys weren’t too swift.”

“But they got famous, didn’t they? Which is what amateurs are after. High profile and a romantic death.”

“If death is romantic, I’m a fucking poet.”

“Holly had a dreary life, Milo. No present, no future. Belonging to a fringe group could have given her purpose. Going out in a blaze of glory might not have looked bad at all.”

“You’re saying she was on a suicide mission?”

“No. But she might not have worried about the risks.”

“A group thing, huh?” he said. “Back to the ninjas. So who killed Novato and disappeared Gruenberg?”

“Maybe that was a dope thing. Or maybe it was the opposition. Right-wing radicals.”

“Two groups of assholes?”

“Why not? Now that you mention it, it brings to mind something I just read scribbled in one of Novato’s books: ‘Same old story: power and money, no matter what wing.’ Maybe what he was referring to was political extremism- and he was becoming disillusioned.”

Milo said, “KKK assholes versus commie scumbags? Very colorful. But before you get carried away, don’t forget that what happened tonight could have had nothing to do with politics- just some jealous john. This could all be related to Cheri. Guys get attached to these girls- it happens more than you’d imagine. Or maybe it was political but had nothing to do with Holly, or Novato, or Gruenberg. Massengil was not Mr. Charm. Could be one of his disgruntled constituents set out to vote with his trigger finger.”

“Not Mr. Charm,” I said, “but popular enough to last twenty-eight years.”

“So much for the incumbency advantage.” A moment later: “I don’t know, Alex. What’s been going on is so weird I don’t even want to apply logic, because when I do, I start doubting the value of logic. One thing you can take comfort in: Your hunch about there being something funny between Massengil and Dobbs was right on.”

I said; “Sloppy seconds. Management consulting. Great way to launder Cheri’s fees.”

“What do you think about what she said- politicos and bondage?”

“Makes sense psychologically. Like you once said, politicians mainline power. For some of them, sex would be just another dominance game. What would be interesting to find out is who else, either here or in Sacramento, was aware of Massengil’s kinks. Who besides Dobbs knew Massengil was carrying on with Cheri. And maybe there were other Cheris. The guy Massengil slugged in the Assembly- DiMarco- would be someone to talk to. What if he found out about it and leaked it- another kind of revenge. Or took a more direct route.”

“Shot them himself?”

“Burr shot Hamilton. White shot Milk and Moscone.”