around the campsite using our flashlights, but we didn't see a thing. While we were doing this, I walked behind our tent. I'll never forget what I saw. Never.'
'What did you see?'
'A body … though at first I wasn't sure what it was. Then as I stood there I realized it was a body. The body of a woman. I screamed. I screamed so loud I woke up the whole camp. The kids rushed out of their tents to see. One of the girls fainted and another one got sick to her stomach. We thought about administering first aid to her, but one of the adults in our group is a nurse. She said there was no need … that the person was dead.'
'Did you hear anything before you heard the thud?'
'No … nothing … we were just lying there in our tents waiting for the kids to pull their nightly practical jokes. The body must have been thrown off the cliff above us. Or maybe it was dropped out of an airplane. There is no other way for it to have ended up there. It's the most horrible thing I've ever seen. Once I saw a horrible car accident, but this was much worse.'
Higgins turned off the tape player.
Carr lit a cigarette. 'How did they identify the body?'
'She had a jail property receipt on her. The rangers called the Women's jail and identified her. Then the jail phoned the burglary detective who'd booked her. He phoned me. I got here just before the coroner took the body away. There was very little bleeding. I think she was dead before she got the boost off the cliff. Don't be fooled by the fact that her head was caved in. It looked to me like it probably happened during the fall.'
Carr shook his head. 'Did the property receipt have a-'
'The time stamp shows that she bailed out last night at nine-fifteen.' Higgins stood up and stretched.
Carr took a deep drag on his cigarette, flicked an ash. 'What do you think?'
'I think she knew a secret.'
'Me too.' Carr picked up the telephone and dialed the Women's jail. He learned that Amanda Kennedy's bond had been posted by a bail bondsman named Cecil DeMille. Carr wrote down the bondsman's address as the jail clerk read it off the bail release form. Higgins looked over his shoulder as he wrote.
'He's a receiver of stolen property,' Higgins said after he'd hung up. 'Burglars who want out on bail trade diamonds and furs for his signature on a bail bond. He never touches the swag himself … has it delivered to a hotel room and one of his stooges picks it up and fences it. He's been arrested a couple of times, but he hires good lawyers. They postpone the case until witnesses disappear or the case winds up with a friendly judge.'
'Let's pay him a visit.' The two men got up and left, quickly making the trip back down the San Gabriel Mountains.
THIRTEEN
The West Los Angeles neighborhood was a jumble of stucco apartment houses that needed painting, small commercial buildings and car lots. The streets were congested with both parked cars and moving traffic. Everyone was coming or going, heading to or from the nearby freeway. Down the street was an empty lot that Carr knew was once a movie studio.
Higgins parked the unmarked police sedan at the curb in front of a tiny office building with a large sign on the roof that resembled a movie marquee. It read:
Bail Bonds-24 hours
directed by
Cecil DeMille
A cast of thousands to serve you 24 hours per day.
'We'll have to play it by ear,' Higgins said as they got out of the car and approached the door of the building. Inside, a young blonde woman wearing a knit dress sat at a reception desk in front of an inner-office door, talking on the phone. 'May I help you?' she asked, setting the receiver down.
Higgins flashed his badge. 'Is Cecil DeMille in?'
'No,' she said as she pressed a doorbell-style button attached to the side of her desk. 'He's gone for the day. Is there anything I can do for you?'
Higgins glared at the woman while she sat fidgeting nervously. Suddenly he stepped past her to the inner office and opened the door.
'Just what may I ask are you doing?' she said angrily, standing up.
Carr followed Higgins into the inner office, where a fortyish, overweight man with a Fu Manchu moustache sat behind a desk. His ebony hair was full at the collar and he wore a golf shirt that accentuated his fatty pectoral muscles. Higgins showed the man his badge as the blonde woman rushed in behind them.
'I couldn't stop them,' she said apologetically. 'They just walked right in.'
Without expression, Cecil DeMille folded his arms across his chest and stared at the two cops for a moment. 'Close the door and leave us alone,' he said. The secretary backed out of the office closing the door behind her.
'I just want to hear what is so important that you would walk right into someone's office,' DeMille said. 'After I hear it, I'll decide whether or not I throw both of you out the way you came in. And just so we get things straight right off the bat, I want you to know that I'm a law school graduate. I know I have the legal right to throw you fuckers out of here right now. You're not dealing with some dumb ex-con that's sweating getting his parole violated.'
'We want to know who bailed out Amanda Kennedy,' Higgins said.
'Who the hell is Amanda Kennedy?'
'Your name is on her bail release form,' Higgins said. 'She was released from the Women's jail last night around nine.'
'I bail out lots of people every night. The name doesn't ring a bell.'
'She was murdered shortly after she was released,' Higgins continued. 'Does that ring a bell?'
'What happens to people after I get them out of jail is something I have no control over.' He picked up a ballpoint pen and clicked it a few times.
The men looked at each other without speaking while Cecil DeMille continued to click his pen.
'We just received a tip from an informant that you were involved in the woman's murder,' Higgins said. 'We stopped by to see if you could clear the matter up for us.'
DeMille set the pen on the desk. 'Bullshit.'
'I'll ask you again,' Higgins said. 'Who retained you to post bail for Amanda Kennedy?'
'Like I said, I post bail for a lot of people every night. I have no recollection of the name you asked me about.'
'Would you mind checking your records?' Higgins said. 'I'm sure you have records…'
'I'm tied up with some other things today. Why don't you check back with me sometime next week?' DeMille flashed a mock smile.
'Since you're a lawyer, I guess you're familiar with the term probable cause?' Higgins said, his tone becoming slightly impatient.
'Of course.'
'Then you'll understand that since you were the last person to see Amanda Kennedy alive, that I have probable cause to arrest you for her murder.'
DeMille stood up and pointed to the door, his flabby chest jiggling. 'Get out of my office,' he said angrily. 'No one threatens me in my office. I mean it. Get the fuck out of here.'
Higgins reached under his coat and unfastened a pair of handcuffs from his belt. 'You'll be going with us, fat boy. You're under arrest for murder. Put your hands on top of your head,' he said, moving toward him.
'You people are gonna regret this. I'm gonna sue for false arrest.' He backed away. 'This is an illegal arrest. I have a right to resist.'
Higgins stepped closer, wrapping the cuffs around his right fist like brass knuckles. Carr went over to the door and locked it. In a fighting stance, Higgins moved closer to DeMille. 'Come on, clown, you still wanna resist?'
