came across the hallway.
“Thanks a lot, pal,” he said. “I was supposed to have the inside on this story, or did you forget that?”
“I couldn’t stop Schyler from handing out the story that there would be a hearing, but the judge issued a gag order relating to the evidence.”
“He told everybody you were partners.”
“That’ll be the damn day.”
“You could have tipped me. Maybe Schyler would’ve given me an exclusive.”
“You know he doesn’t work that way, Jimmy. He gives it to everybody at the same time. He doesn’t want to offend anybody, not even the scandal sheets.”
“So how do you think it’s going to work out?”
“He’s got a tough jury. Templeton, Levy, and Butcher.”
“Evasive. What’s the evidence? You know Spring ’em. How many times has he bragged about evidence that fizzles in the home stretch? Have you guys really got something?”
“I’m not in bed with Schyler, damn it. I produced the evidence.”
“Why share it with him?”
“His client gave me the tip.”
“ Riker! You believed something Riker said? Hell, he’s been peddling bullshit for all those years.”
“It’s not bullshit, Jimmy. I hate to say it, but I think Riker’s going to walk.”
“What the hell has Schyler got?”
I hesitated. But any minute now the tribunal would come back and everybody would know anyway.
“Dental records,” I said.
“Dental records?”
“Think about it. As soon as the hearing’s over, I’ll give you my side of the story exclusively. I’m sure Schyler will have copies of all the evidence for the press.”
Moriarity stuck his head out of the room.
“They’re coming back in, Zeke.”
“Is this on the level?” Pennington said.
“Yep,” I said, and returned to the council room.
The three wise men trooped into the room and took their seats. Templeton rapped the gavel.
“Gentlemen, it is the unanimous opinion of this panel that Mr. Riker was falsely imprisoned. The governor has accepted this verdict and has signed an executive order that exonerates Mr. Riker and vacates the verdict of the jury in his trial. Mr. Riker, you are released from custody.”
Bang! went the gavel.
And Riker walked out of the room a free man.
CHAPTER 35
I sat in the first row and watched Riker swagger into the hallway, where he was immediately surrounded by reporters, photographers, and radio newscasters, all shouting questions at him as flashbulbs popped in his face. Behind him, wearing a Cheshire-cat smile, Schyler stood with his hands folded in front of him, watching the chaos and occasionally fielding a legal question. Bones, too, joined the madness, to explain how and why the tribunal had reached its decision. The three political appointees responsible for the madness scurried out a door in the front of the room and vanished.
I decided to follow them. I had nothing to say to the press. Bones, Riker, and Schyler would say enough. And now I had an open homicide on my hands that I didn’t want to talk with the press about. In less than an hour, Riker’s nineteen years behind bars had come to an abrupt end, and the verdict of the original jury had been thrown out on the testimony of a dentist, a coroner, and a cop. What had started as the simple investigation of an accidental death had escalated into a sensational murder case with lies, a frame-up, and vengeance at its heart, and political undertones stretching to the halls of the state lawmakers and the governor’s mansion. All because the victim had too much money in her savings account and no early personal history-and her killer didn’t know squat about electricity.
So I had a lot on my mind, not the least of which was Brodie Culhane. I had grown to like him in spite of myself, and yet there was an aura of corruption about him. Perhaps it was his way of brushing off the murder of Wilma Thompson Hicks Wilensky as if it were none of his concern. Perhaps it was the almost casual way he regarded Eddie Woods’s murder of Fontonio. Now, more than ever, all roads led back to Culhane, San Pietro, and the events that had begun so many years ago in Eureka and culminated in Wilma’s death. There was one character in the scenario who stood out in my mind, and I went to the hospital to talk it out with my partner.
Ski was half asleep when I entered the room.
“Feel like having a visitor?” I said.
“Hey, partner. What happened?”
“Riker walked.”
“Well, that’s no big surprise.”
“Something still bothers me about this,” I said. “I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just out of reach.”
“About Riker?”
“Maybe. Hell, Schyler made him sound like Einstein. Son of a bitch read four papers a day and memorized every line. Taught other cons how to read and write. A real Boy Scout.”
“Don’t let it get you down. You did what you had to. Was Culhane there?”
I shook my head. “I’m sure the boys in Sacramento are already busy trying to figure the best way to bring him down. They know they can handle either Osterfelt or Bellini if they get elected. They’ve got a string on both of them. But if Culhane wins, they got a maverick on their hands. He’ll get rid of all the department heads, guys who’ve been there forever, break up the political machine… he’ll drive them all nuts. Life isn’t a cat, Ski, it never lands on its feet. Culhane is going down and Riker walks.”
“And we still got a homicide on our hands,” Ski said. “Probably what’s bugging you has something to do with that. Right now, Culhane had the most to gain by her death.”
“I got my eye on Eddie Woods. He’s the logical hit man and he knew about Wilma Thompson. He knew who she was. Hell, he sent one of the checks.”
“I wouldn’t take him on alone.”
“Well, you sure as hell aren’t gonna crawl out of bed and help me. This is nothing but a hunch, Ski. I can’t put the arm on him with a bunch of guesswork.”
“Walk cautiously.”
“I’ll keep in touch.”
“I’ll be thinking. Hell, I got nothin’ better to do.”
I went by the Olympic but Woods’s office was closed up tighter than a miser’s fist. I called Central and had the man on duty get Woods’s unlisted phone number and address.
The house was in the Hollywood hills, a few blocks off Sunset Boulevard. It sat back from the street, behind a clump of trees and shrubs, a nice, one-story brick-and-redwood ranch. I drove up the driveway, which branched off at one end of the house toward a two-story attached garage, the other leg circling in front of the place.
Next door, a woman in a cotton dress was using an old-fashioned watering can to treat a cluster of thirsty lilies and carnations.
“I think they’re probably on their boat,” she said as I got out of the car. “I haven’t seen them since day before yesterday.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll just take a look around.”
She didn’t seem too satisfied with the answer and watched as I knocked on the front door and peered through a living room window. I looked through the garage window, too. Two cars.
Bristles started tickling the back of my neck.
I went around to the back and checked the door to a screened-in porch. It was open.
Then I saw the hole.
