fresh victims.
Pollard cursed her bad luck, then dialed the Squad’s general number and waited as it rang. On days when the Squad was spread throughout L.A., a duty agent remained in the office to field incoming calls and attend to his or her paperwork. Whenever Pollard had been the duty agent she usually ignored the calls.
“Bank Squad. Agent Delaney.”
Pollard remembered the young agent she met with Bill Cecil. New guys always answered because they weren’t yet jaded.
“This is Katherine Pollard. I met you up in the office with the donuts, remember?”
“Oh, sure. Hi.”
“I’m downstairs. Is April up there?”
Pollard knew Sanders wasn’t in the office, but asking about Sanders was a setup for asking about Leeds. She had to find out if Leeds was in his office because Leeds controlled the list. Pollard wanted Leeds gone.
Delaney said, “I haven’t seen her. I’m pretty much alone here. Everyone’s out on a call.”
“How about Leeds?”
“Um, he was here earlier-no, I don’t see him. It’s pretty busy today.”
Pollard was relieved, but tried to sound disappointed.
“Damn. Kev, listen-I have some things for Leeds I wanted to drop off along with a box of donuts for the Squad. Would you send down a badge?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Great. I’ll see you in a minute.”
Pollard had picked up a box of donuts from Stan’s to justify her visit to the office. She tucked her gun under the seat, then carried the donuts and her file into the building. She brought the file so she would have an excuse to enter Leeds’ office. Pollard waited for her escort like before, then rode up to the thirteenth floor.
When she entered the squad area she scanned the room. Delaney was alone in a cubicle near the door. Pollard flashed a big smile at Delaney as she approached him.
“Man, I used to
Delaney fished a donut from the box, but seemed uncertain where to put it and had probably taken it only to be polite. His desk was covered in paperwork.
Pollard said, “You want me to leave the box with you?”
Delaney glanced at his desk, noting there was no place to put it.
“Why don’t you leave it in the coffee room?”
“You bet. I’m going to drop these things in Leeds’ office, then I’ll be out of your hair.”
She gestured with the file so he would see it, then turned away. Pollard tried to move with an easy grace, as if her actions were expected and normal. She dropped off the donuts in the coffee room, then stole a glance at Delaney as she stepped back into the squad area. His head was down, busy with his work.
Pollard went to Leeds’ office. She opened the door without hesitation and entered the dragon’s lair. Pollard had not been in Leeds’ office since the day she resigned, but it was as intimidating now as she remembered. Pictures of Leeds with every president since Nixon adorned the walls, along with an inscribed portrait of J. Edgar Hoover, who Leeds revered as an American hero. An actual Wanted poster of John Dillinger hung among the presidents, presented to Leeds by President Reagan.
Pollard took in the office to get her bearings and was relieved to see the file cabinet was still in the corner and Leeds’ desk was unchanged. She hurried to the desk and opened the upper right-hand drawer. Several keys were now in the box, but Pollard recognized the brass key. Now she hurried to the cabinet, worried Delaney would start wondering why she was taking so long. She unlocked the cabinet, opened the drawer, and scanned through the file folders, which were divided alphabetically. She found the W’s, pulled out the folder, then searched through the files. Each file was labeled by the informant’s name and code number.
She was still hoping this would be the one-in-a-million coincidence when she saw the name: Alison Carrie Whitt.
Pollard opened the file to the cover sheet, which contained Alison Whitt’s identifying information. She scanned down the page, searching for the fifth man’s name-
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Pollard jerked at the sound of his voice. Leeds filled the door, his face furious.
“Pollard, stand up! Get away from those files. Delaney! Get in here!”
Pollard slowly stood, but she didn’t put down the file. Delaney appeared in the door behind Leeds. She studied them. Either of their names might be on the sheet, but she didn’t believe it would be Delaney. He was too new.
Pollard pulled herself together. She stood tall and looked Leeds in the eye.
“An agent in this office was involved in the murder of the four officers under the Fourth Street Bridge.”
Even as she said it she thought: Leeds. It could be Leeds.
He advanced toward her across the office, moving carefully.
“Put down the file, Katherine. What you’re doing now is a federal crime.”
“Murdering four police officers is a crime. So is murdering a registered federal informant named Alison Whitt-”
Pollard held out the file.
“Is she your informant, Chris?”
Leeds glanced at Delaney, then hesitated. Delaney was her witness. Pollard went on.
“She’s in your file-Alison Whitt. She was a friend of Marchenko’s. An agent in this office knew that because he knew her. That same agent was involved with Mike Fowler and the other officers in trying to find the sixteen million dollars.”
Leeds glanced at Delaney again, but now Pollard read his hesitancy in a different light. He didn’t seem threatening; now, he was curious.
“What kind of proof do you have?”
She nodded toward the file with all of Holman’s notes and articles and documents.
“It’s all in there. You can call an LAPD detective named Random. He’ll back me up. Alison Whitt was murdered on the same night as the four officers. She was murdered by the person named in her file.”
Leeds stared at her.
“You think it’s me, Katherine?”
“I think it could be.”
Leeds nodded, then slowly smiled.
“Look.”
Pollard skimmed the last few entries on the cover sheet until she found the name.
The name she found was Special Agent William J. Cecil.
Bill Cecil.
One of the kindest men she had ever known.
48
HOLMAN CRUISED three mall parking lots before he found a red Jeep Cherokee similar to the one he had stolen. Swapping plates with the same make, model, and color vehicle was a trick Holman learned when he stole cars for a living-now if an officer checked Holman’s plate, the vehicle report wouldn’t show that his Jeep had been stolen.
Holman switched the plates, then headed for Culver City. He did not like the idea of returning to his apartment, but he needed the money and the gun. He didn’t even have change to call Perry to see if anyone had come around. Holman kicked himself for not asking Pollard to loan him a few bucks, but it hadn’t occurred to him until later. And this stolen Jeep was clean. He searched the floorboards, seats, console, and cushions, and found nothing-not even trash.
The lunch-hour crush was beginning to ease when Holman reached the Pacific Gardens. He circled the block,
