Sunset Express

I said, 'Simple. Elegant. Utterly devastating.'

She turned and smiled, but the smile seemed strained. 'Ben called. Peter's going to bring him home after dinner.'

'Great.'

'You were gone a long time.'

'Angela Rossi's partner was waiting for me. Have you seen the news?'

'No.'

I turned on the local station, but now they were talking about a fruit fly infestation in Orange County. I changed channels twice, but other things were happening in the world. 'They've got a woman I interviewed saying that Rossi framed her son.'

'Congratulations.' She didn't understand.

'That isn't what she told me. Rossi didn't frame anyone. I cleared her, and that's what I reported to Jonathan.'

'I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. These things happen.' She said it, but it was as if she wasn't really there.

I turned off the television and looked at her. 'Is everything okay with Darlene?'

'Of course.' She glanced away, then made a little shrug. 'Just something at the office.'

I looked closer. 'You sure?'

Lucy stiffened ever so slightly. 'Shouldn't you get ready, or are we not going?'

'Luce, he made it sound like I uncovered this woman. He made it sound like I turned up something that implicates Angela Rossi.' I said it carefully.

'Perhaps you're just being sensitive.' Cool.

I took a step back and went upstairs and put on a jacket and tie. The cat watched me from the closet. Hiding. I said, 'Don't say a word.'

He didn't.

I folded the fax from Santa Barbara and put it into my inside jacket pocket, and then we went out to the car. I said, 'Would you like the top up or down?' Thinking of her hair.

'It doesn't matter.'

I left the top down.

I said, 'If there's a problem, I wish we could talk about it.'

She looked out the window. 'Please don't start one of those conversations.'

I nodded.

Lucy relaxed as we moved along Mulholland and down Coldwater, and by the time we gave the car to a valet she was smiling again and holding my hand. She said, 'There're so many people.'

Jonathan Green lived in an expensive home on a corner lot just north of Sunset in Coldwater Canyon. It was an older, established area of great red pines and curving drives and ranch-style estates that looked not unlike the Ponderosa. A small army of valets was trotting along the walks, and the curbs were already lined with cars and limousines and an awful lot of people who looked as if they'd just stepped out of the Academy Players Directory.

Jonathan's front entry was open, and, as we approached, we could see that his home was crowded. I said, 'Prepare to be stared at.'

She glanced at me. 'Why?'

'You'll be the most beautiful woman there.'

She hooked her arm through mine.

'In the most beautiful dress.'

She squeezed my arm. I'm such a charmer.

A news crew from Channel Eight had lights set up on Jonathan's front lawn and was interviewing a well-known figure who had starred in a hit television series in the early seventies, and who now ran a major studio. Lucy said, 'Isn't he somebody?'

'Yep.' He was well known for his efforts as an active fund raiser for private social programs and had received humanitarian-of-the-year awards twice, in large part because Teddy Martin had contributed heavily to his causes. He was less well known for the violent, hair-trigger temper that he has frequently shown toward the young men whom he supplies with heroin.

As we passed, he was telling the reporter, 'I've known from the beginning that Teddy is innocent, and this proves it. Teddy has been a force for good in our community for years. He's stood by us, and now it's our turn to stand by him. I can't understand why the district attorney has this vendetta.' Other reporters were spread through the crowd, interviewing other supporters.

The entry was wide and long and opened onto a great room that flowed outside through a line of French doors. The floors were Spanish tile and the decor was western, with plenty of rich woods and bookshelves and oil paintings of cattle and horses. An original Russell hung over a great stone fireplace. Behind the French doors were a pool and a pool house and, still farther back, a tennis court. Maybe a half-dozen of Kerris's security people were standing around, trying to be unobtrusive and not having a lot of luck at it. The grounds were lush and dramatically lit, and waiters and waitresses moved through the crowd, offering wine and canapes. Maybe three hundred people were drifting through the house and around the pool. Lucy said, 'This is beautiful.'

I nodded. 'Crime pays.'

'Oh. There's Jonathan.'

Green was near the fireplace, talking with a couple of men in dark suits and a together-looking woman in her late fifties. One of the men was tall and thin, with little round spectacles and a great forehead and bulging Adam's apple. Intense. As we approached, he said, 'LAPD has an entrenched white male racist attitude that is impervious to change. I'm telling you that the time is right to simply abolish them.'

The together woman said, 'That's a non-issue, Willis. Angela Rossi is a white female.'

Willis jabbed the air. Agitated. 'And as such must subjugate herself to the dominant white male racist attitudes that surround her. Don't you see that?'

The together woman said, 'But LAPD is over fifty percent women and minority now, and the percentage is increasing.'

Willis's eyes bulged. 'But is it increasing fast enough to save us? My God, we're living in a virtual police state! If it could happen to Teddy, it could happen to any of us!'

Jonathan saw me and offered his hand, looking not altogether unhappy to shut Willis off. 'Everyone, I'd like to introduce Elvis Cole, an integral member of the team.'

Willis's eyes lit up and he grabbed my hand. 'Great to meet you. You're the one who nailed that fascist bitch.'

The together woman drew a deep breath and Lucy said, 'Please don't refer to any women by that word in my presence.' She said it politely.

Willis stepped back and held up his hands. 'Oh, hey, I apologize. Really. But these cops have just gone over the line, and I'm so frustrated.'

The together woman said, 'You're such a hog.'

Jonathan introduced us. The woman was Tracy Man-nos, the station manager from Channel Eight. Willis was a writer for a local alternative weekly, the L.A. Fieak.

When Green was finished introducing me, I introduced Lucy. She said, 'It's a pleasure, Mr Green.'

He smiled warmly and took her hand. 'Please call me Jonathan. I understand that you're an attorney.'

She nodded. 'I practice civil law, but your cases have been inspirational. Especially the Williams case in nineteen seventy-two.' He was still holding her hand.

'That's a lovely accent. Where are you from?' He patted her hand.

' Louisiana.'

'Well, perhaps we'll have the pleasure of working together some time.'

He patted her hand again, and I said, 'Jonathan, I'd like to see you.'

As I said it, Kerris appeared behind Jonathan and whispered something. Jonathan stared at me as Kerris spoke, and then Jonathan nodded at me. 'I have to see the others for a moment. Why don't you come along?'

I left Lucy with Tracy Mannos and followed Jonathan through his house to an office that was the size of my living room. Elliot Truly was there, along with the larger of the lesser attorneys and two men who looked vaguely familiar. One of them was tall and hard and African-American. When Kerris closed the door, I said, 'Jonathan, I saw the statement you made this afternoon. What's going on with Louise Earle?'

Jonathan spread his hands. 'I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean.'

'She's changed her story. She didn't implicate Rossi when I talked to her.'

Kerris said, 'Guess you got it wrong.' He had drifted to the wall behind Jonathan so he could lean. Every time I saw him he was leaning. Guess it wore the guy out carrying all those shoulders and arms.