Obsession

“All questions, no answers, eh? The decision was mutual. Mary was living in Carthay Circle, had sold some apartments in the Valley and was looking to trade up, possibly go the owner-occupied route. We’d owned the duplexes long enough to make a nice profit but as pure rentals, the returns weren’t optimal. I didn’t want to waste time on properties with less than a dozen units, so the timing was perfect.”

Rocking his glass, he stared at the wave motion. “It’s like playing Monopoly, one trades houses for hotels. There’s a school of thought that says hold, never sell, but I find that uncomfortably static.”

Another tightening of his lips.

I said, “Your father’s school of thought?”

Little eyeglass lenses flashed as he focused on me. “You’re playing psychologist with me. But yes, you’re correct. And no doubt Father would insist he was right. Those four buildings have got to be worth five, six mil. But I did fine on the ones I bought.”

Adolescent strain in his voice. Kyle had told me his father and grandfather loathed each other. Cashmere and silk were nice, but they made for poor bandages.

He said, “I’m still intrigued by all the interest in Mary. Is it because Patty Bigelow lived in one of the duplexes? There’s no mystery to that. I sent Patty to Mary after she had to leave here.”

“After your father died.”

“She was a terrific caretaker,” said Bedard, “but there was no reason for her to stay.”

“Let’s get back to Peterson Whitbread,” I said. “How did Kyle come to know him?”

“This is about Pete? What has he done?”

Milo said, “Did Kyle meet him during your stopovers?”

Bedard fondled his ascot. “I’m not obligated to talk to you.”

“Any reason you wouldn’t want to cooperate?”

“Jet lag, for one. Bedard orneriness for another.” Capped smile. “No, I’m easy. Or so I’ve been told.”

People like to talk about themselves. My profession banks on it. Sometimes, though, it’s a means of avoiding substance.

I said, “What was the problem between Kyle and Pete?”

“Who said there was any?”

“You keep shying away from talking about it.”

“Lord,” said Myron Bedard. “And to think I’ve supported your profession.”

Milo said, “Would it help if I asked the same question?”

“Ha…no, I’m not trying to be evasive. It’s just that bringing up those days reminds me of…it’s a rather jarring example of the impulsiveness I was talking about. Precisely why I didn’t want Kyle here.”

I said, “You took Kyle along when you saw Mary and he saw things he shouldn’t have.”

“At the very least he heard things. Mary could be…exuberant. Yes, I had poor judgment, but you need to understand, I was Kyle’s primary parent, if I wasn’t with him he didn’t get any attention at all. You’ve met my ex- wife. Can you imagine her nurturing anything? So yes, I let him tag along everywhere. Now I realize there were some…inappropriate instances.”

“How old was Kyle when he accompanied you to Mary’s?”

“I’d say…nine, ten, who remembers? I thought it would be fun because Pete was a bit older. Kyle’s an only child.”

Drinking some more. “To my mind, it was better than leaving Kyle alone in this godforsaken place.”

“Big house.”

“Big cold tomb,” said Bedard. “I hated growing up here. One day I’ll sell it. I’m keeping an eye on the market.”

I said, “How’d Kyle react to the visits?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said there were inappropriate instances.”

“I was talking generally. Hearing Mary and I…for the most part, Kyle seemed fine.”

“For the most part.”

“One time-the last time-he seemed kind of moody. All I could get out of him was that he didn’t like Pete, preferred not to go back. Those were probably his exact words-‘Dad, I’d prefer not to go back.’ He always talked like an adult, when he was really small, people would say, ‘Where’s the ventriloquist?’”

“Why didn’t he like Pete?”

“He didn’t elaborate.”

“You didn’t pursue it.”

“I didn’t see any reason to. Kyle made a request, I honored it.”

I didn’t answer.

Bedard said, “Please don’t tell me something disgusting went on. I refuse to believe Kyle wouldn’t have told me. Most kids don’t talk to their parents. But with Kyle and me it was different. There was absolutely no sign of anything like that.”

Milo said, “That’s not what we’re after but if you do suspect something, now would be a-”

“I don’t. And frankly I don’t see what any of this has to do with Patty Bigelow and her daughter. I’m still confused about why you asked Kyle about Patty in the first place and why he’s so concerned. Patty died of cancer, not under suspicious circumstances.”

“What did Kyle tell you?”

“That you were going back and looking into her death and that possibly it was related to Lester’s death.”

“How’d you find out about Lester’s death?”

“Kyle called me in Venice and told me.”

“When?”

“Yesterday morning.” Wry smile. “Quite early in the morning. Right after I arrived from a rather gourmandish night in Paris and was trying to sleep it off.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“That’s it,” said Bedard. “The part about Patty didn’t come up until the ride from the airport.”

“Kyle’s explanation for why he wanted to drive past Tanya’s.”

“Not that it clarified matters.”

“Why’d you come back to L.A., sir?”

“Kyle asked me to.”

“Just like that, with no explanation.”

“You’re not a father, Lieutenant. I heard the need in my son’s voice and responded. I did try to get him to explain, but it made him more upset so I dropped it. I’ve learned to let Kyle proceed at his own pace-did you see how tough it was just getting him to leave the damn room?”

Milo said, “Why exactly did Kyle say he wanted to drive past Tanya’s house?”

“To make sure she was okay. And then he blushed and got fidgety. From that I inferred that he was smitten by the girl. That surprised me but not unpleasantly. ‘Kyle’ and ‘women’ aren’t two words often uttered in the same breath.”

“Not a ladies’ man.”

“It wouldn’t shock me if he was still a virgin.” Dry chuckle. “Where did I go wrong?”

I said, “Why did Kyle drive by Mary Whitbread’s duplex?”

“I had no idea he was going to do that. When he turned on Third instead of Beverly, I figured it was an alternative route, maybe something to do with traffic patterns-I haven’t been in L.A. for months, the bastards at City Hall keep digging up the streets. Then he turned off at Orlando and before I knew it, we were idling in front of Mary’s duplex. I asked him what the heck he was doing and he turned and gave me a strange look and began humming ‘Auld Lang Syne.’”

“Doing it for old times’ sake.”

“But he didn’t look amused. Quite the contrary, he was uptight and stayed that way, refused to explain.”

Bedard swallowed the last of the bourbon. “The ride home was tense. I’d just left Venice for him and believe me, that city is gorgeous any time of year-if you haven’t been there, trust me, you have to. Before the whole damn thing sinks into oblivion.”