‘Yes. But I didn’t look closely at it.’
‘You can’t remember anything else about it?’
‘No, honestly. I see a lot of plates and they don’t mean that much to me anymore. Especially from out of state because they’re a different layout to California plates.’
Eric cut across Scott’s emerging exasperation. ‘What about the man, Javier? What did he look like?’
‘He was Anglo. Kinda tall. A light-colored beard. But he was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, so I didn’t see much more.’
‘What was his voice like?’
‘I guess you could say it was soft. I mean, it was American and all. Just . . . he didn’t speak loud. You’d do better asking Margarita about him.’
‘Margarita?’
‘Yeah, she does the filing. She’s not in today but I know she had some kind of problem with him.’
‘They spoke to each other?’
‘I don’t know. She just came walking back into the yard here and said something, like, about the guy being weird.’
Scott was at the ready. ‘Where can we find Margarita?’
‘Um, I know where she lives. Over by Birmingham High School.’ He gave Scott the address.
‘Let’s go back to the man,’ said Eric. ‘What time did he get here?’
‘He was here when I arrived to open up at six thirty.’
‘Just parked outside?’
‘Yeah, like he was waiting.’
‘Was anyone else with him?’
‘Not that I saw.’
‘And what’d he say to you?’
‘Just said hi and that he needed some work done on his van, right away, and he was going to pay cash.’ He shrugged. ‘My boss wasn’t coming in for two days, so I just decided to take on the job myself.’
‘He say anything about where he’d come from or where he was going?’
Ruiz shook his head.
‘Did he wait here while you finished the work?’
‘No, the paint had to dry. He came back the next day, late in the afternoon.’
‘But he just walked away when he dropped if off? Did he ask you for directions or anything?’
‘No, he just walked. I figured he was going to the bus stop or something.’
‘Is there anything else you can tell us about him?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘OK.’ Eric pulled a business card from his shirt pocket. ‘Here’s my card. If you remember anything more, call me right away, any time, day or night. Got it?’
‘So I’m not in trouble?’
‘No but we may need to take a formal statement later.’
Ruiz put the card in the back pocket of his pants. ‘And you’re not going to tell my boss?’
‘Nope.’ Scott shook his head.
It wasn’t until the agents were back in their vehicle, air-conditioner blowing, that Eric spoke. ‘We’re on to him, Houston. I can feel it.’
They drove directly to the address Ruiz had given them for Margarita, which was in a neighborhood of single-story ranch houses built in the 1940s and 1950s in the heart of the San Fernando Valley. The street they parked on was neat; dry lawns were cut short where only geranium and jade bushes held up against the heat. Margarita’s house didn’t have a car parked in the driveway but the swamp cooler on the roof suggested someone was home; its hum was audible to the agents as they walked up the front path.
The teenager who opened the door had a sullen expression. TV advertisements blared behind her.
‘Yes?’
They identified themselves and explained why they needed to speak to her. She didn’t invite them inside the house but was willing to describe the man who had brought the van to the garage.
‘Javier dealt with him outside. It was just that I wanted to make a personal call and the owner is real strict about that, makes me use the pay phone on the sidewalk just outside the gate. So I go to use it but the guy with the van was already there and he gave me a look that really scared me. I went away but I was pissed because it was an important call I wanted to make.’
Scott asked, ‘Did you hear him say anything?’
‘Well, when I came over, he was speaking up so I heard him. It was like he was talking to one of those computer voices, y’know? Like an operator? He said, “Arizona” real loud.’
‘Anything else?’
Margarita shook her head. ‘No. Soon as he said that was when he realized I was there.’
‘Can you describe him?’ Eric asked.
‘Just a skanky guy. White.’
‘Hair color? Eye color?’
‘He had a patchy beard that was kinda blond. I think his hair was blond but his hat hid most of it. I don’t remember what color his eyes were. Maybe brown?’
‘What was his voice like? Any accent?’
‘No. I just heard him say that one word.’
Eric pulled out his card and repeated what he’d said to Ruiz earlier about calling if she remembered anything further. When they were back in the Suburban, Scott said, ‘You might just get that gold star, Ramos.’
Eric started to reply but then Scott’s cell phone rang. He picked up, listened, and said, ‘We’re on our way back now.’
He looked at Eric. ‘Tony’s got a name to go with the surgical plate Thirty-two One found.’
Eric slapped the dashboard in excitement. ‘Hot damn!’
‘She’s an Eleanor Patterson. Lance is checking her out right now to see if she was reported missing.’
‘I told you. We’re on to this guy.’
‘We’ve got to track him down yet,’ Scott cautioned as he started the car.
‘Yeah, but if we’re interpreting Margarita right, we know he’s headed to Arizona. We know the color, the make, and the potential model of the van.’
‘But no license plate and no name of the perp.’
‘I’m not letting that stop me,’ Eric asserted. ‘We need to issue a BOLO to Arizona.’
Scott glanced at him as he drove to the canyon road that would take them back to their office. ‘Let’s do Be On the Lookouts for Arizona
‘OK,’ Eric agreed. ‘We’ll ask LAPD to put it on their BOLO boards.’ Now his cell phone rang and he answered. He muted the call as he listened and said, ‘Lance is putting through a Detective Kragen from Carlisle PD, regarding the Patterson case.’
Scott nodded and went quiet.
When the caller identified himself as a coroner from Alaska, Carol put him through to Steelie in the lab. Steelie brought the phone to the computer so she could have the digitized X-ray of Thomas Cullen’s head on her screen, then she took the call.
‘Chuck Talbot,’ the matter-of-fact voice said. ‘Anchorage ME’s Office.’
‘Dr Talbot. Good to hear from you.’
‘Chuck’s fine. Look, this whole situation with the John Doe bullet has caused a bit of a stir up here.’
Steelie couldn’t read his tone. ‘Oh?’
‘It’s probably for the best, I don’t know. But that’s not your problem. I’m calling to inform you of a positive ID for this John Doe as Thomas Cullen. We’ll be posting it on the ACB network this afternoon.’
Steelie jotted a note. ‘This is great news. Can I ask how you got the match?’
‘Dental. It turns out the teeth were where the breakdown was. Or maybe I just want to blame the odontologist.’ He chuckled. ‘We’ve been having a feud for years. But I can’t actually blame him.’ He paused. ‘Are we confidential here?’
