“To paraphrase an expert, that ain’t evidence, pal. Given Rasmussen’s history,
“Fucking pretzel,” he said. “’Round and around.”
“There’s someone who could clear it up for us.”
“Vidal?”
“Alive and well in El Segundo.”
“Right,” Milo said. “Let’s just waltz into his office and announce to his secretary’s assistant’s gofer that we want an audience with the big boss- friendly little chat about child abandonment, blackmail, inheritance claims, multiple murder.”
I threw up my hands, went to get a beer of my own.
“Don’t get miffed,” he called after me. “I’m not trying to piss on your parade, just striving to keep things logical.”
“I know, I know. It’s just damned frustrating.”
“How she died, or the things she did when she was alive?”
“Both, Sergeant Freud.”
He used his finger to draw a happy face in the frost of his glass. “Something else. The twin photo- how old were the girls in it?”
“About three.”
“So they couldn’t have been separated from birth, Alex. Meaning either both were cared for by someone else, or both were given to the Ransoms. So what the hell happened to the sister?”
“Helen Leidecker never mentioned a second girl living in Willow Glen.”
“Did you ask her?”
“No.”
“Didn’t bring up the picture?”
“No. She seemed…”
“Honest?”
“No. It just didn’t come up.”
He said nothing.
“Okay,” I said, “flunk me in Freshman Interrogation.”
“Easy,” he said. “Just trying to get a clear picture.”
“If you get one, share it with me. Goddammit, Milo, maybe the damned picture wasn’t even Sharon and her sister. I don’t know what the hell is real anymore.”
He let me stew, then said, “Suggesting you let go of it all would be stupid, I suppose.”
I didn’t answer.
“Before you indulge yourself in self-contempt, Alex, why not just give the Leidecker woman a call? Ask her about the picture, and if you get a weird reaction, that’ll be the tip-off that she hasn’t been Honest Annie. Which could mean more cover-up- as in the twin was hurt under suspicious circumstances and she’s trying to protect someone.”
“Who? The Ransoms? I don’t see them as abusers.”
“Not abusers- neglecters. You yourself said they weren’t parent material, could barely cope with one kid. Two would have been impossible. What if they turned their back at the wrong moment and one twin had an accident?”
“As in drowning?”
“As in.”
My head was spinning. I’d crammed all night, was still floundering…
Milo leaned over and patted my shoulder. “Don’t fret. Even if we can’t take it to court, we can always sell it to the movies. Show Dickie Cash the way it’s done.”
“Call my agent,” I said.
“Have your people call my people and let’s take a power bran muffin.”
I forced a smile. “Have you checked Port Wallace birth records yet?”
“Not yet. If you’re right about Lanier going home to have her baby, hometown would be the perfect place- assuming she never read Thomas Wolfe. How about you give a call down there and see what you come up with? Start with the Chamber of Commerce and find out the names of any hospitals doing business back in ’53. If you’re lucky and they hold on to records, a little lying will pry it out of them- say you’re some kind of bureaucrat. They’ll do anything to get rid of you. If nothing pans out, check out the county registrar.”
“Call Helen; call Port Wallace. Any more assignments, sir?”
“Hey, you want to play sleuth, develop a taste for the tedious stuff.”
“The safe stuff?”
He scowled. “Damn
He made a circle with thumb and forefinger, released the finger as if flicking away a speck of dust. “Poof. Life is fragile- something
He rinsed out his bowl, put it in the drainer. Saluted and began to leave.
“Where are
“Got something I have to follow up on.”
“The something that kept you from calling Port Wallace? Stalking the wild Trapp?”
He glowered at me.
I said, “Rick assured me you’re going to get him.”
“Rick should stick to cutting up people for fun and profit. Yeah, I’m gunning for the scrote, found a soft spot. On top of his other virtues, he has a penchant for females of the underage persuasion.”
“How underage?”
“Teenage jailbait. When he was back in Hollywood Division he was heavily into the Police Scouts- earned himself a departmental commendation for public service beyond the call of blah blah. Part of that service was providing personal guidance to some of the more comely young lady scouts.”
“How’d you find this out?”
“Classic source: disgruntled former employee. Female officer, Hispanic, couple of years behind me in the academy. She used to work the Hollywood Evidence Room, took leave to have a baby. After she returned, Trapp made her life so miserable, she opted for stress disability and quit. Few years ago I ran into her downtown, day of her final hearing. Racking my brains for a hook into Trapp made me remember. She really hated him. I looked her up and paid her a visit. She’s married to an accountant, got a fat little kid, nice split level in Simi Valley. But even after all these years, talking about Trapp made her eyes bulge. He used to grope her, make racist comments- how Mexican girls lost their virginity before their baby teeth, what brown-nose really means- all of it delivered in a Tio Taco accent.”
“Why didn’t she report it when it was happening?”
“Why didn’t all those kids at Casa de los Ninos tell anyone what was happening to
He walked to the door. “And that, my friend, is where I’m choosing to focus my extracurricular attention.”
“Good luck.”
“Yeah. I’ll work it from my end; maybe it’ll all connect and we’ll meet in Gloccamorra. Meanwhile, watch your rear.”
