LA Requiem

Bishop cleared his throat and moved closer to Maldenado.

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'We're not fucked, Harvey. We're still going to make an arrest.' Saying that for the councilman. He turned toward Dolan. 'I can't believe you compromised our investigation like this, Detective. This is a serious breach. Serious.'

I said, 'I already had it, Bishop. I had the vies, the feds, and I knew that you guys were running a Task Force. I was just trying to find out why you were putting so much into Dersh.'

Krantz squared his jaw again. 'What in hell does that mean? We're putting it into Dersh because Dersh is the shooter.'

'You've got nothing for the shooter. You're pressing Dersh because you're desperate for a collar.'

Frank pushed his chair forward, accidentally hitting Mon-toya. 'Waitaminute. It's not Dersh?'

Krantz said, 'Yes. It's Dersh.'

'All they have is a profile that says the shooter is probably someone like Dersh. They don't have any evidence that it's really him. Nada.'

Williams leaned forward, the first of the others to say anything. 'You're off base, Cole. The Feebs said the perp would try to insert himself into the investigation, maybe by pretending to know something, and that's just what Dersh did. You've read the interviews. Dersh dragged Ward down that slope just so they could find the vie.' Williams realized what he was saying then, and looked embarrassed. 'Sorry. Ms. Garcia.'

Frank was nodding. He wanted it to make sense because he wanted to know who killed his daughter.

'So, you say this Dersh is the man, but you can't prove it?'

Krantz spread his hands, reasonable. 'Not yet. We believe he did it, but, as Cole says, we don't at this time have any direct evidence linking him to these crimes.'

'Then what are you doing to get the bastard?'

Krantz and Bishop traded a look, and then Krantz shrugged. 'Well, now that we've lost the advantage, the only thing we can do is sweat him. We'll have to get aggressive, search his residence for evidence, and keep up the pressure until he either confesses or makes a mistake.'

I shook my head. 'You're out of your mind, Krantz.'

L.A. REQUIEM 171

Krantz raised his eyebrows at me. 'Good thing you're not conducting this investigation.'

Bishop watched Maldenado for a reaction. 'How does that sound, Councilman?'

'Our only concern is that the killer be apprehended, Captain. Certainly for the murder of Karen Garcia, but also for the sake of our city and the other victims. We want justice.'

Krantz tipped his head toward me and Joe. 'Before we do anything, we'd better plug the leak.'

I said, 'It didn't come from us, Krantz. It could've been some uniform who overheard something or maybe just some sharp reporter who dug out the facts. Maybe it was you.'

Krantz smiled a reasonable smile. 'I heard that your girlfriend works for KROK. I wonder if that has something to do with it.'

Everyone in the room stared at me. Even Dolan.

'I didn't tell anybody, Krantz. Not my girlfriend. Not anyone.'

Krantz took his seat on the table again, gazing pointedly at Maldenado. 'Well, we're going to find out, but right now we've got a maniac to get off the street. We've had one major leak, we can't afford to have another. It could mean the difference whether we nail this guy, or not.'

Frank looked from me to Joe. Joe was watching Frank, and I wondered what he was thinking.

Frank said, 'I don't believe they said anything.'

Maldenado maintained the eye contact with Krantz, then spread his hands. 'Frank, I think the police have proven that we can trust their efforts. I certainly hope that Mr. Pike and Mr. Cole weren't behind this, ah, lapse in judgment, but as long as we have confidence in the police, there's no reason we can't work with them directly.'

Frank said, 'Get Dersh.'

Krantz said, 'That's right, Mr. Garcia. We've got to get Dersh. We can't afford to be distracted.'

Frank nodded again, and reached a gesture toward Joe. 'Sure. That makes sense, doesn't it, Joe? I don't believe you told anyone. But as long as the police are doing such a good

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job, I don't need you to waste your time staying on them, right?'

Pike spoke so softly you couldn't hear it. 'Right, Frank.'

Krantz went to the door and opened it. No one said anything as we left.

We walked out through the squad room, and out to my car. When we got there, I said, 'Is it me, or were we just fired?'

'It's not you.'

Pike's Jeep was still at the church. I drove the wrong way up the parking lane to let Pike out, pulling in across the Jeep's stern. We hadn't spoken on the ride, and I was wondering, as I often do, what he was feeling behind the dark glasses and beneath the blank mask of his face.

He had to hurt. He had to be feeling loss, and anger, and shame.

'You want to come up to the house and talk about this?'

'Nothing to talk about. We're off, Krantz is on.'

Pike took his gun from the glove box and clothes from behind the seats, got out, and drove away.

I guess I would feel those things for both of us.

18

The woman who lives in the next house was standing on her slope, watering bright red ice plants. The Santa Anas were gone, but the stillness made me think that they would return. The air is never more still in Los Angeles than in those moments before the wind screams down on us again, once more torching the world into flame. Maybe the stillness is a warning.

L.A. REQUIEM 173

The woman called, so far away I could barely hear her, 'How are you doing over there?'

'Hot. How're those boys?'

'They're boys. I saw you on TV'

I didn't know what she was talking about.

'On the midday news. At that funeral. Oh, there's my phone.'

She turned off her hose and ran inside.

I let myself in through the kitchen and turned on the television, but it was soap operas. Guess my fifteen minutes had come and gone, and I had missed it.

I changed into jeans and a tee shirt, then made scrambled eggs. I ate at the sink, staring out the window while I drank milk from the carton. The floor in my kitchen is Mexican paver tiles, some of which were still loose from the '94 earthquake. When you're unemployed you have time to think about fixing things like that, only I didn't know how. I thought I could learn. It would give me something to do, and there might even be a measure of satisfaction in it. Unlike private detecting.

I stepped from tile to tile until I had stood' on every tile, rocking a bit to see if the tiles were sound. Six of them were loose.