It was soon clear that Soury was a regular and favorite customer. Although the restaurant was crowded, they were given a private booth near the back.
Soury made small talk until their beverages were brought and their orders taken. When the waiter walked away, he said, “So what can I do for you, Detective Harriman?”
“I’m trying to learn more about Trent Randolph. I’m especially interested in the last few weeks of his life, and I hope you can tell me about any projects he was working on just before his death.”
“Projects in connection with the police department?”
“Yes.”
Soury seemed amused. “Why? Is Whitey Dane no longer the department’s favorite suspect for every crime in Las Piernas?”
“I’m just covering all the bases.”
“It’s about time someone did,” he said. “I don’t imagine Chief Hale is pleased with you for it, though.”
Frank hesitated. “He knows I’m talking to you. He knows what some of my suspicions are. He didn’t forbid me to ask any questions.”
“I’m greatly relieved to hear that.”
“Do you know if Randolph had any enemies within the department?”
“Enemies? A strong term. People who bore him some sort of grudge? You could find them quite easily — starting with his ex-wife, but by no means ending there.”
“But within the department or on the commission?”
“Within both. Trent was subject to all the problems of those who are very bright. He didn’t converse, he lectured. Few adults enjoy that. He also loved to solve problems and attacked them with enthusiasm — fine, but if he found a solution for a problem, he was impatient with any delay in implementing it. Very tough on bureaucracies such as the one you work in. He was sometimes a little quick to criticize. Not bound to win friends that way. And he was not easily fooled — at least not by men. Which was terribly difficult for those who tried to blow smoke at him.”
“When you say ‘at least not by men — ’”
“Oh, the only woman in his life who was worth a damn was his daughter, Amanda. His ex-wife is a shrew. His girlfriend — Tessa? A lovely, doting nothing. Scratch the surface and you could see daylight out the other side. She’s the only reason I’ve ever considered the possibility that Dane might have actually killed Trent.”
“I don’t understand,” Frank said.
“Don’t you? Trent told me that he broke up with her because she had lied about her past. When I questioned him a little further, he told me that he thought she had connections to the criminal world. In Las Piernas, that is spelled D-A-N-E. And Dane was not pleased at the progress Trent was making with the police lab, so perhaps he did have him killed.”
“Do you remember the last conversation you had with Trent Randolph?”
“Yes,” Soury said, suddenly solemn. “Yes, I do. He called me at my office the day before he left for Catalina, to ask if we could reschedule a meeting with Chief Hale. I’m not certain, but I think Pickens and Dr. Larson were supposed to be there, too. Trent wanted to talk at length, but I was in a hurry, so I… I interrupted him. Cut him off. Told him he could give me all the details on Monday. That’s when we were to meet — first thing Monday morning. By which time, of course, Trent and Amanda had been murdered.”
“What was the subject of the meeting?”
“I confess, I hadn’t listened very carefully. He had been studying the property room and the lab and had already made some suggestions. But I think this had to do with narcotics and homicide investigations. I remember he used the phrase ‘disturbing patterns.’ Later, of course, we stumbled across what he had seen all along — the lack of security and proper handling of evidence in the property room. Too many people had access to too many areas. Unfortunately, the mismanagement and theft of evidence continued for some time before any of the rest of us saw those ‘disturbing patterns.’”
He was interrupted by the sound of a man saying, “Dan! How are you?”
“Fine, Lew — Judge Lewis Kerr, do you know Frank Harriman? One of our detectives. Homicide Division.”
Kerr smiled. “Yes, of course. You’re Irene Kelly’s husband, aren’t you? Just saw her yesterday. Will you be joining us at the courthouse ceremonies tomorrow?”
“No, I’m sorry, I won’t,” Frank answered.
“How about you, Dan?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Saw you on the news, Lew — congratulations on the award.”
They continued to chat for a moment. Kerr wasn’t a favorite of Frank’s — he thought the man was a better politician than judge. Around the department, he was often known as Judge Curse, not because he did, but because he was considered the kiss of death to any case that wasn’t rock solid. Kerr was too inclined to make life easy for the defense, as far as Frank was concerned. Irene liked him, though — and once, when they had argued about Kerr, threatened to buy “Bill of Rights wallpaper” for the bedroom.
Seeing him hadn’t made the day any more pleasant. Not long after Kerr went back to his table, Frank took his leave of Soury.
On the drive back to the department, Frank thought about the meeting Randolph had tried to schedule. He felt sure that Randolph wasn’t setting it up because of the problems in the property room. According to Flynn, Randolph had already made recommendations for that area, even if the report was bureaucratically buried by those who were threatened by it.
But evidence didn’t go to just the property room — it was also handled by detectives and the lab. He considered the fact that Al Larson was invited to Randolph’s meeting. Randolph’s strongest area of expertise in connection with the department was scientific — the lab. He might have seen some problem in the control of evidence going to and from the lab or ways in which a detective might compromise it before it got there. Perhaps he
