“Listen, Detective Melon—”
Melon stopped him.
“I’m retired. Call me Chris or Bwana.”
“I was an asshole. I was rude and abusive, and wrong. I’m ashamed of the way I acted. I apologize.”
Melon stared for a moment, and tipped his glass.
“Unnecessary, but thank you.”
Scott clinked his glass to Melon’s, and Melon settled back.
“Just so you know, you were all that and then some, but, hell, man, I get it. Damn, but I wanted to close that case. Despite what you may think, I broke my ass, me and Stengler, shit, everyone involved.”
“I know you did. I’m reading the file.”
“Bud let you in?”
Scott nodded, and Melon tipped his glass again.
“Bud’s a good man.”
“I was blown away when I saw all the paperwork you guys generated.”
“Too many late nights. I’m surprised I’m still married.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Whatever you like.”
“I met Ian Mills—”
Melon’s laughter interrupted him.
“The I-Man! Bud tell you why they call him the I-Man?”
Scott found himself enjoying Melon’s company. On the job, he had been humorless and distant.
“Because his name is Ian?”
“Not even close, though that’s what everyone says to his face. Now don’t get me wrong, the man is a fine detective. He truly is, and he’s had a scrapbook career, but every time Ian is interviewed, it’s always,
Melon laughed again, and Scott felt encouraged. Melon enjoyed talking about the I-Man and seemed willing to discuss the case, but Scott cautioned himself to tread carefully.
“Were you pissed at him?”
Melon appeared surprised.
“For what?”
“The business with Beloit. Chasing the diamond connection.”
“Him being hooked up with Arnaud Clouzot, the fence? Nah, Ian’s the guy who straightened it out. Interpol had a list of Clouzot associates, and Beloit was on the list. It was bogus. Clouzot’s business manager invested in a couple of Beloit’s projects along with a hundred fifty other people. That’s not a connection.”
“That’s what I mean. Seems he should’ve checked it out first. Save everyone the trouble.”
“Nah, he had to bring it. He had Danzer.”
Scott thought for a moment, but didn’t recognize the name.
“I don’t know it. What’s Danzer?”
“You know it. Danzer Armored Cars. Three or four weeks before Pahlasian, a Danzer car on its way from LAX to Beverly Hills was hit. The driver and two guards were killed. Bad guys got twenty-eight million in uncut diamonds, though you didn’t hear it on the news. Remember now?”
Scott was quiet for a long time. Pressure built in his temples as he thought about the velvet pouch in his pocket.
“Yeah, vaguely.”
“These big heists always end up with Special. Ian heard the rocks were going to France, so he asked Interpol for likely buyers. This was all weeks before Beloit was murdered, so his name meant nothing. But once he gets blown up, if you put Danzer in a world where Beloit is connected to Clouzot, you have to go with it. When you find out they’re not connected, Beloit’s just another Frenchman who got off the plane that night.”
Scott watched gnats circling the avocados. The I-Man was like a gnat circling Beloit. Scott felt the pouch through his pants, and ran his finger over the stones.
Melon swatted the air at a gnat. He checked his hand to see if he had the gnat.
“I hate these damned things.”
Scott wanted to ask Melon about the missing disc, but knew he had to be careful. Melon seemed fine with shooting the shit, but if he sensed Scott was investigating the investigation, he might pick up the phone.
“I get it, but I’m curious about something.”
“Don’t blame you. So am I.”
Scott smiled.
“You guys tracked Pahlasian and Beloit from LAX pretty much all the way to the kill zone. Where’d he pick up the diamonds?”
“He didn’t.”
“I meant before you cleared him. Where did you think he picked them up?”
“I knew what you meant. He didn’t. You know what happens when people steal diamonds?”
Melon didn’t wait for Scott to answer.
“They find a buyer. Sometimes it’s an insurance company, sometimes a fence like Clouzot. If a fence buys them, you know what the fence has to do? He has to find a buyer, too. We believed Clouzot bought the diamonds earlier, had them in France, and resold them to a buyer here in L.A.”
“Meaning Beloit was his delivery boy.”
“We had LAX video, baggage claim, parking structure, the restaurant, the bar. Unless somebody tossed him the rocks at a red light—which I considered—it was more likely he carried them in. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t in business with Clouzot, so the whole diamond thing was a mirage. You watch. Bud’s going to find out one or both of these people borrowed from the wrong guy and couldn’t hide behind Chapter Eleven.”
Scott felt he had pushed enough. He wanted to learn about Danzer, and decided to wind up his visit with Melon.
“Listen, Chris, thanks for letting me visit. Reading the file is an eye-opener. You did a great job.”
Melon nodded, and gave Scott a tiny smile.
“Appreciate it, but all I can say is, if you’re reading that file, you must be getting a lot of sleep.”
Melon laughed, and Scott laughed with him, but then Melon sobered and leaned toward him.
“Why are you here?”
Maggie looked up.
Melon’s eyes were webbed with lines, but clear and thoughtful. Melon had retired with thirty-four years on the job, and almost twenty in Robbery-Homicide. He had probably interviewed two thousand suspects, and put most of them in prison.
Scott knew he had crossed the line, but he wondered what Melon was thinking.
“What if Beloit had diamonds?”
“I’d find that interesting.”
“Danzer unsolved?”
Melon’s clear eyes never moved.
“Solved. Case closed.”
Scott was surprised, but read nothing in Melon’s eyes other than a thoughtful detachment.
“Did you talk to them?”
“Too late.”
Scott read something in the unmoving eyes.
“Why?”
“They were found shot to death in Fawnskin thirty-two days after you were shot. They’d been dead at least ten days.”
Fawnskin was a small resort town in the San Bernardino Mountains, two hours east of L.A.
“The crew who took Danzer? Positive IDs?”
“Positive. Professional takeover bandits. Long records.”
