'Go ahead and joke it off. You got half the Glass House circling you. Maybe if you didn't come in smelling like Big Foot, it would help.'
'Lemme get back to you on that,' he snarled. We walked into Cal's office.
'What's up?' Cal said. He removed his jacket, exposing huge arms in a short-sleeved shirt. His bi's and tri's bulged the white cotton.
'Cap, did you read the update I e-mailed you this morning?'
'On the hard gas lens? Looks promising.'
'I think when we find out where it was made, it's gonna come back as being from a lab in one of the old Soviet Union countries.'
'Are we having hunches again?' Cal said, half-smiling.
Zack shot me a dangerous look.
'Hunches based on shrewd observations,' I corrected.
'Such as?'
'The tattoos in the vic's eyelids turn out to be Russian Cyrillic symbols. They translate: 'Don't wake up.' '
'How do you get tattoos done on your eyelids?' Cal asked. 'Don't they have to press the needle down too hard?'
'I called a tattoo artist, Big Payaso, at the Electric Dragon in Venice. He told me this kind of eyelid art is mostly done in prison. They slide a spoon under the lid to make a work table.' Both Cal and Zack winced. 'Also, the bullet came from a Russian automatic so I think the vic is maybe a Russian immigrant and the lens is gonna trace back to somewhere in the Soviet Union.'
'Okay, so John Doe-Four is a homeless Russian who did time. That's why you wanted to see me?'
'As I told you yesterday, I think this last hit is a copycat. I think I may also have the thread that ties it together.'
Cal got up and closed the door. Then he turned back and motioned for me to continue.
'I think this last guy might have done time in a Russian prison and John Doe Number Four might be an ROC hit.'
'Russian Organized Crime?' Cal said, raising an eyebrow. His expression told me I better make this good.
'The Odessa mob is aggressive and proactive. They've been trying to infiltrate the department for at least fifteen years, ever since Little Japanese came over here from the Ukraine in the late eighties.'
Chapter 11
Little Japanese was a violent Russian gangster named Vyatcheslav Ivankov who got his street handle because he was short and had squinty eyes. He brought several members of the Odessa Mafia with him. They had started small, but now there were more than five thousand members listed in our gang book, with large concentrations of Armenian Odessa mobsters in Glendale, Burbank, and Hollywood. I didn't have to remind Cal that we found Forrest right on the Burbank city line.
'The Odessa mob has tried to infiltrate the LAPD two or three times before,' I said. 'Maybe they put a mole in the ME's office and somehow found out about the symbol carved on the victim's chest. With that piece of info, they could duplicate these killings and use the Fingertip case to hide a high-profile mob execution.'
Cal looked over at Zack. 'How 'bout you? Whatta you think?'
'I completely disagree. I think John Doe-Four is part of the Fingertip case,' Zack said, not looking at me. 'Besides, if we isolate the case out on weak shit like this, we got a lotta explaining to do. There's more at stake here for all of us, than just who's killing a few bums.'
He was obviously talking about our careers. So, despite his promise to the contrary, Zack had left me hanging. Maybe I should call that the last straw.
Cal thought for a moment, and then leaned forward on the edge of his desk. 'I agree. We're not gonna take this last kill out of the Fingertip case because no matter how we rig it, it's still only a theory with nothing to back it up. But I also agree with you that all this background is starting to make this last kill look shaky, so I'll put a little weight on the Russian angle. Hibbs and DeMarco are freed up right now. I'll send them down to Russian Town with the dead guy's photo. Have them show it around, see if anybody knows him. But until something tells us for sure, like a positive ID or a witness, this last guy stays in the Fingertip case.' He got up and opened his office door. 'Stay in touch with DeMarco and Hibbs, but keep this on the DL. It leaks and you two humps will be workin' Saturday traffic at the Coliseum.'
'Yes, sir,' I muttered.
Zack and I turned and started out of the office. But Cal stopped us.
'And one more thing. If this investigation doesn't get a whole lot better before the next body drops, I'm gonna have to make a move.'
'What's that mean?' I asked him.
'It means you guys better hurry up and clear these murders.'
We nodded and exited the office.
'Thanks for the backup,' I muttered. 'Motherfucker's about to replace us,' Zack growled.
errell Bell has lousy footwork,' Chooch said. 'He doesn't set up good at all. Remember the Montebello game? Three picks. If he goes to USC, I'll smoke him. I can't believe Coach Carroll would be recruiting that guy.'
Chooch had been going on like that since we all arrived at Toritos, our favorite Mexican restaurant near the Pier in Venice. It was 6:30 and Alexa, Delfina, and I had barely been able to find an opening in his wall of braggadocio.
'Okay, you want to know who's pretty good?' he conceded. 'Andre Davis from Servite. He's not what you'd exactly call overpowering as a runner, but the guy has an okay gun. His problem is he's slow. You gotta be able to run the naked bootleg and have enough mobility so when Coach Sarkisian wants to move the pocket, you can get out there. Davis probably can't break five flat in the forty.'
'Anybody want to order?' Alexa said, shooting me a hooded look that said, what's gotten into this boy?
'Maybe you ought to wait and see if they even offer you a scholarship before you do all this brilliant hatchet work on the competition,' I said.
'Si, Querido,' Delfina agreed. 'It is not good to criticize others to make yourself strong.'
'I'm just saying. . if Coach Kiffen saw two of my games, then he's gotta know I have great mobility. That's a big plus running the USC offense.' Then, without taking a breath: 'If I can get rid of my last Spanish language requirement, which I should be able to test out of, maybe I can graduate early, get out of spring term at Harvard Westlake and enroll at SC for spring football. If I got a jump on those two guys, I know I'd be ahead on the depth chart by fall. Whatta ya think, Dad?'
I didn't know what I thought beyond being put off by his attitude.
Our waitress came to the table and everybody ordered the combination plate.
'Anything for dessert?' our waitress asked. 'If you want the Mexican pie, I have to put the order in now.' 'The Mexican pie is good,' I said. 'But what we could really use at this table is some humble pie.' The waitress smiled and left.
'Come on, Dad, I'm just saying. .'
'You sound like a blowhard, Chooch. We taught you better than this. Del's right. You need to concentrate on your own game, and stop running everybody else down. Want my opinion? We were lucky to beat Montebello. That wasn't your best performance either.'
'Sometimes I think you guys don't have a clue what it takes to win in football. You have to be confrontational and believe in yourself to win.'
'Might be right,' I said. 'But you don't sound much like a winner tonight.'
Right in the middle of this awkward moment, my cell phone rang. I pulled it out and pried it open. 'Detective Scully?' a woman's voice asked. 'Yeah.'
'Homicide Special Dispatch. You've got a one-eighty-seven in the L. A. River at De Soto Avenue in Canoga
