‘She used to be a cop.’
‘So did most PIs. What’s her name, Detective?’
Sharkey sucked in his breath. ‘Lorraine Page.’
Burton opened the file again, and appeared to be devoting his full attention to it as he said quietly, ‘So, tell me about this lady, this Lorraine Page.’
Chapter 6
Cindy Nathan had always known something like this would happen: now that it had she found herself strangely calm, as though the fate she had always known was walking just behind her had finally taken her hand.
‘Take off your clothes,’ the man said, and she slowly unbuttoned the white shirt and took it off.
She began to unfasten the zip of the tight aqua jeans, then stopped. ‘Will I take off my shoes?’ she asked docilely, as though speaking to the nurse at school.
‘Everything.’ She sat on the edge of the bed and unbuckled her high ankle-strap sandals, then pulled off her jeans with her underwear still inside. She was naked now except for a choker of tiny black glass beads, strung into a fine pattern like a broad strip of lace. He did not look at her: the female body held no mystery for him.
‘Now go into the bathroom,’ he said. ‘Take that thing off from round your neck.’
At eight fifteen that evening, Juana cooked supper at the Nathan house and pressed the number for Cindy’s bedroom on the intercom. There was no answer. Juana was a little annoyed and wondered if Cindy wanted to eat in her room instead of at the dining table, where the meal had been laid. She dialled Cindy again just after eight twenty, and still received no reply from the room, although the girl had specifically ordered what she wanted to eat — a grilled swordfish steak, salad of fennel and watercress dressed with lime juice, and no wine or fruit, just a glass of sparkling water.
Juana prepared a tray and rang again at eight thirty, but still no one picked up. She wondered if Cindy could be taking a shower, waited a few minutes more, then asked Jose to go up to Cindy’s room and check that she was all right. Jose went upstairs, tapped on the bedroom door and listened outside. He could hear music playing quite loudly, but there was no answer from Cindy. He tried the door, only to find it locked. Perplexed, he returned to the kitchen and he and Juana ate their own supper. At nine fifteen Jose went to Cindy’s room again. This time he banged loudly on the door, and then, with Juana at his side, used his pass key to enter the room.
The room was empty, and the clothes Cindy had been wearing were strewn across the bed, her shoes discarded beside it. Jose went towards the closed bathroom door, tapped, and waited a moment. He could hear the shower running, and turned to Juana. ‘She’s taking a shower. I told you not to worry.’
Juana pursed her lips, put the tray down on a bedside table and closed the doors to the balcony, through which the curtains were billowing in the wind. Jose had already left the room. Juana crossed back to the bathroom and listened again: the water was still running. She knocked and called that she had left Cindy’s supper tray on the bed, relocked the bedroom door and went back downstairs.
Lorraine arrived home after driving up to Santa Monica to walk Tiger on the promenade, a pretty stretch of parkland on the bluffs above the beach, just as darkness was falling at about six o’clock. She immediately checked her answerphone, to find only one message from Decker, giving Sonja Nathan’s home number, which Lorraine took down. After a shower, she fixed herself some agnolotti and salad, cooked up some meat and vegetables for Tiger, and was just about to make the call to Sonja Nathan when Tiger let rip with a deep bark, then growled as footsteps became audible on the walkway up to the apartment.
Lorraine went to the window and looked down into the road. She saw the Chewy, parked directly underneath. She didn’t recognize the car and looked quickly at her watch. Just after ten. After the incident with the brakes, she was immediately tense, and Tiger was ready to pounce.
The door buzzed, and Lorraine hesitated before she picked up the entry phone. ‘Who is it?’
‘Lieutenant Burton, LAPD.’ The voice was neither friendly nor familiar.
Lorraine looked out of her window and could see Burton standing back from the front door on the steps. He was holding his ID card up for her to see, so she pressed the door-release button and told Tiger to sit. The dog still wasn’t convinced and she had to hold his collar in one hand as she opened the door to the apartment.
‘Hi... can you just say hello to my dog?’
Burton smiled. ‘Sure. Hi... Do I put out my hand or what?’
‘Just stay where you are, let him have a sniff. He’ll be okay soon.’
As Burton leaned forward Tiger growled deep in his throat.
‘Good boy... good boy.’
Lorraine slowly released her hold on the dog’s collar and he relaxed. ‘Sorry about that. Come in.’
‘No, I’m sorry, I should have called first, but... you want another look at my ID?’
She smiled. ‘No, that’s okay.’
Lorraine tried to think what the hell had brought Burton to her apartment, while smiling and offering him coffee or tea, both of which he refused.
‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here?’
‘You could say that.’ She sat down opposite in an easy chair. Burton was not the kind of man she found attractive — she had always preferred men with darker colouring — but she was impressed by him. He seemed quite a cool guy, though the hair was too short, and judging from the pressed pants, polished shoes and so on, he was anally retentive. She laughed at her analysis.
‘Did I miss something?’ he asked.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just you being here all spick and span, and at the same time my mind is wondering what the fuck it is you want?’
He laughed — a pleasant laugh — and she also noted he had nice, even teeth.
‘You had a meeting with one of my officers.’
‘Yes, Jim Sharkey.’
‘Yes,’ he repeated softly. ‘Jim Sharkey.’ Nothing Sharkey had said had given him any indication about how Lorraine Page looked. Nor had anything he had read about her. He had not expected to be bowled over by her looks.
‘So, you’re running that division now, are you?’ she enquired. He liked the way she tilted her head when she spoke, her silky blonde hair falling forward over one side of her face.
‘Yes, I hope you don’t mind my calling. It’s not official — just wanted to touch base.’
‘Really?’ she said, with a half-smile, then again offered him something to drink. This time he accepted a glass of iced water. He had strong hands with long, tapering fingers, which brushed hers for a second as he took the glass from her.
Burton drew out a hard-backed chair from the little dining nook, and brought it over to the coffee table, although there was a more comfortable chair and the sofa. He twisted the chair round and sat astride it, leaning his arms along the back.
‘You want to trade information,’ he said, looking at her directly. He leaned over, picked up his glass, and sipped from it, then replaced it carefully. ‘As I said before, this is unofficial, but I’m new in town — new to the station. I like to get a handle on some of my officers, especially if they’re taking backhanders, and I know most of them are. I’m on what you might call a clean-up campaign.’
Lorraine cocked her head to one side, and waited.
‘Did you offer any payment to Detective Sharkey?’
‘No, I paid for his cappuccino, that’s all.’
He stared at her. It was his turn to wait, and there was a long pause. ‘I see. Have you traded information with Detective Sharkey before?’
‘No. I did some work on a case with a former partner who was an old buddy of Sharkey’s, Bill Rooney — Captain Rooney. I think they sank a few beers together and discussed the investigation. It was the disappearance of—’