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Page 16


  Lance asked, “I assume you don’t want them to see our faces.”

  Jim laughed and said, “Duh! You’re already going to piss them off. You don’t want them to see your faggot faces, too.” There was a thud on the line, and Jim said, “Ouch!”

  A female voice came on the line and said, “Jim is sorry for saying that.”

  Lance asked, “Sam, is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me. I’m with Mr. Homophobe and the Iron Eagle.”

  Philly asked, “What’s your role in all of this?”

  Sam laughed and said, “According to the Eagle, I’m bait.”

  “Okay. We’ll grab these yoyos, John. Don’t let Sam get hurt like Jim has in the past. We like her.”

  Jim yelled a loud “Fuck you” to the men as the line went dead. Lance looked at Chris and asked, “Do you know any of these lawyers?”

  “Only by reputation. You tell me who to grab and where to take them, and I’ll deal with it.” Lance nodded as the men looked over the list and talked strategy and stealth.

  Violet Harper was sitting in the back of a sheriff’s cruiser heading down the 405 Freeway. She looked around and asked, “So, where does Jim want me to be?”

  One of the deputies said, “You’re in protective custody, Ms. Harper. The Sheriff has not given us instructions, so I assume we are going to put you in the lock up downtown.”

  “The hell you are!” She pulled her cell phone out, called John, and asked, “Where the fuck is Jim?”

  John was standing in Violet’s living room with Sam and handed Jim the phone.

  “What?” Jim said.

  Violet said, “I agreed to go into protective custody, but Tweedledee and Tweedledum say they’re taking me to lock up. That’s not happening, Jim. I will jump out of this goddamn car before I sit in one of your fucking jail cells.”

  Jim was smoking a cigarette and said, “Give the phone to one of the deputies.”

  She handed the phone to the deputy in the passenger seat and waited. He was quiet and then said, “Yes sir … I see. No problem, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

  He handed the phone back to her, and she said, “Okay. Do you want to let me know what that was about?” He was pacing her living room as Sam came walking out from the back of the house in Violet’s night shirt and a pair of pink slippers. She looked at him and said, “Really? I mean, fuckin’ really?”

  Jim was laughing, and Violet asked, “What’s so goddamn funny?”

  “Your sleeping attire, Vi. Fuzzy pink slippers? Jesus! What are you … five?”

  “Oh, fuck you, Jim. Where am I going?”

  “Relax. You’re going to be really, really comfortable.”

  She heard the door locks release, and she reached for a handle, but there wasn’t one. Violet yelled into the phone, “You son of a bitch! If I end up in a jail cell, I swear I will kick your…” The phone went dead, and Jim handed it back to John.

  “Violet’s not too happy.”

  John shrugged. “She should have known better than to trust me or you.”

  They chuckled, and Sam said, “Are you two done? I look like a retard here. What the fuck am I supposed to do as bait?”

  John looked at her and said, “It’s six thirty. Go to bed.”

  Jim followed her back to Violet’s bedroom in the one-bedroom duplex. She asked, “I thought Violet was a lawyer?”

  “She is.”

  “Then what the fuck is she doing living in a shit pit like this?”

  John heard Sam talking and said, “It’s because Violet Harper is a good and decent lawyer who wants to protect her client’s rights. She’s never been about the money.”

  Sam sat down on the bed and said to Jim under her breath, “Jesus, you’d think that a chick who had been in law for as long as she has would at least have a decent home.”

  Jim shook his head and said, “It’s a long story for another time.” He slipped into the closet across from the bed, and Sam laid down and pulled a comforter up over herself and stared up at the ceiling.

  She laid there quietly for a few moments then whispered, “Jim.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m scared.”

  He took a deep breath and said, “I’m right here. No one is going to hurt you.”

  Sam said, “Jim.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what the Eagle used to tell you, and you’ve been shot, stabbed, drugged, and beaten while helping him.”

  He was silent for a few moments then said, “Yeah … but I’ve never been raped.”

  Sam sat up and stared at the nearly closed closet door and said, “You better keep your eyes open and pounce anyone who gets in here because if I get raped and survive, I will make sure that you know what it feels like. You understand me?”

  Jim laughed and said, “Just relax. We do this all the time. Besides, the Eagle is here somewhere.”

  Sam laid back down and said quietly to herself, but loud enough for Jim to hear, “Yeah … that, too, is what I’m worried about.”

  It was seven thirty a.m. when Paul pulled the black armored van into the loading dock at Cohen, Miller & Hyde. He jumped out in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the ski mask on and checked to see if anyone was around. He pressed the button on the freight elevator then lifted Aston’s body and threw it over his shoulders. He walked back to the elevator and stepped in then pressed the button for the top floor and Howard Cohen’s private residence.

  It was barely light when Sandy Hyde left her office in pursuit of Violet Harper. She parked her Mercedes convertible around the corner from Violet’s duplex, dialed a number on her cell phone, and waited. A few seconds went by before a male voice came on the line.

  “Sandy. Where the hell are you?” Tom Koswick said groggily.

  “I’m around the corner from your associate’s house.”

  “Which associate?”

  “Violet Harper.”

  Tom sat up in his bed and asked, “What the hell are you doing at Violet’s house?”

  Sandy sat behind the wheel of her car and said, “She came to see me a few hours ago. She told me that Howard wasn’t alone when he committed suicide, and that the feds and police know what’s going on.”

  Tom was out of bed and walking on the cold, marble floor of his high rise condo and said, “Look Sandy … Violet has a hell of an imagination. She’s a bit of a whack job, if you ask me. I’m sure she was just making shit up.”

  Sandy sat looking down the street as the sun rose over the hills of the Santa Monica mountains and said, “We can’t risk it, Tom. She knew too much. She was covered in Janet Winston’s blood when she came to see me. She was an eye witness to her murder and had been talking to the feds and one fed in particular who she knows very, very well.”

  Tom was pulling on a pair of sweat pants and a UCLA sweatshirt as he spoke, “Who does she know that we should be worried about?”

  “Special Agent John Swenson.”

  Tom stopped dead in his tracks and then slipped his feet into a pair of sandals and asked, “Swenson? How the hell would Violet know Swenson?”

  Sandy was staring through the windshield as the sun rose higher and started to hit her in the eyes. She lowered her visor and said, “They were lovers many, many years ago. She didn’t give me any details, but I think that she hooked up with Swenson at Janet’s crime scene, and the two started to catch up, if you know what I mean?”

  Tom had his keys in his hand and said, “Look, don’t do anything foolish. I’m sure there is an explanation for anything that Vi said to you. Where are you now?”

  “I’m sitting on Jeffries Avenue about a block from her duplex.”

  Tom was out the door and in the elevator headed down to the parking garage of his condo. “I’m on my way. Don’t do anything. Just wait for me. Are you in your Mercedes?”<
br />
  Sandy looked around, and there were a few people starting to mill about on the neighborhood street. “Yes, but I can’t stay here long. This car is way out of place for this street, and the locals are waking.”

  “There’s a diner at the corner of Avenue Twenty-Six and Figueroa. Do you know the place?” She told him yes, and he said, “Go there now. I will be there in a half hour.”

  “But what if she runs or goes to the cops? I need to deal with her. She might know more than even you or I know.”

  “Look, she isn’t going anywhere. Today is her day off, and she’s a night owl. Trust me. I know she is in her bed fast asleep. Just meet me at the diner, and we can talk. Okay?” Sandy agreed and slowly pulled out onto the street and crept conspicuously past Violet’s home and headed for the diner. Little did she know that another pair of eyes was watching, and as soon as her car rounded the corner, John Swenson’s black Chevy Silverado pulled out and followed her to the diner where he ran her license plate number despite recognizing her face.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Murder? Which one?

  We’ve had multiples.”

  The diner was buzzing with people when Tom Koswick came walking in. He’d seen Sandy’s car parked outside and knew that she would be off in a corner. He walked to the back of the restaurant where she sat sipping a cup of coffee and eating some toast. Tom sat down as the waitress approached and ordered coffee and a bagel with cream cheese and waited for her to leave.

  “Jesus, Sandy! What the hell are you thinking? You can’t just go around chasing people.”

  She sipped her coffee and said, “I have spent the better part of my career building up the network of contacts in and out of Cohen, Miller & Hyde. I’ll be dammed if I’m going to have one of your lackeys set me up for a fall.”

  He poured some cream in his coffee and took a sip then spoke as he slathered the cream cheese on the bagel. “Violet is a non-issue. Whatever she thinks she knows or even really knows is nothing. The fuckin’ cops know nothing, and you have no evidence that anyone was with Howard when he died.”

  Sandy sipped her coffee and said, “While I don’t know who might have been with Howard when he offed himself, I can tell you that Jim O’Brian, Sam Pritchard, and Agents Mantel and Swenson were in his apartment when he did it.”

  Tom took a bite of the bagel and said, “It means nothing, and, besides, don’t you think if Howard had given any information to any one of those four there would be hell breaking all over you and the firm?”

  Sandy relaxed a bit and said, “I hadn’t thought of that. Howard has been dead for several days, and if he had given any incriminating information to any one of those people, you’re right. They wouldn’t be sitting around; they’d move on it.”

  Tom nodded with a mouth full of food and said, “You see why I came out here? Jesus! If you try to hurt Violet, all you’ll do is bring the wrath of the FBI on everyone. This whole thing is like a line of dominos. Tip one and the whole thing will come crashing down.”

  Sandy bit off a piece of toast and asked, “So, what’s up with the dinner? Is it still a go for tonight?” Tom nodded, and Sandy asked, “Didn’t you invite Agent Swenson and Sheriff O’Brian to speak?”

  He nodded and said, “O’Brian never got back to me. I’m sure the killings have been on the top of his list. The same goes for Swenson.” He had no sooner said it when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and answered. It was his secretary asking to patch through a call from Special Agent John Swenson. Tom looked at Sandy as a bead of perspiration began to build on his forehead.

  She saw the fear in his eyes and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Tom swallowed hard and said, “Agent Swenson has called my office, and they are putting his call through to me.” Sandy sat back in the booth as Tom started to talk.

  “Agent Swenson, it is a pleasure to hear from you.”

  John was sitting in his truck in the restaurant parking lot looking at Tom and Sandy through a side window and said, “I’m sorry to call so early, Mr. Koswick, but I wanted to let you know that I would be honored to speak at your dinner this evening.”

  Tom’s face relaxed a bit. “That would be wonderful, Agent Swenson. I know that Los Angeles’s who’s who in law will be really happy to hear from you. You so rarely do public speaking.”

  “Well, I feel that given the tragic circumstances of the past several days, perhaps I will be able to bring a bit of calm to a very, very tragic time.”

  Tom looked at Sandy and shrugged. “Yes, Agent Swenson. I’m certain that you will. On that note, does the FBI have any leads in the killings?”

  “Not at this time, Mr. Koswick, but I feel confident that we are going to make a breakthrough in the case at any moment.”

  “That’s great news. I know I will sleep better at night when the killer has been apprehended and justice served.” Tom was making a jerk-off motion with his hand as Sandy smiled. He gave John the time and details and thanked him for calling.

  “Okay … now are you satisfied that Agent Swenson and the rest of law enforcement knows nothing? Swenson just agreed to speak tonight at the LA lawyers meeting.”

  Sandy looked at him and asked, “And what is Agent Swenson supposed to speak about?”

  Tom laughed and said, “The eradication of police corruption in the wake of last year’s West Valley LAPD scandal.” Sandy started laughing lightly, and the laughter began to grow until the two were both in hysterics.

  Outside, John grabbed one of his duffle bags, pulled out two remote trackers, and moved up behind Sandy’s car. He placed one onto the metal frame then did the same to Tom’s car. Once back in his truck, he typed some coordinates into his tablet, and both units began to blink in green on his screen. John set the tablet to a split screen and then beamed the data to his laptop and transferred it. In a matter of minutes, the information on both cars was streaming on his laptop, and he pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to Violet’s home to get Jim and Sam.

  The all-call went out at eight thirty a.m., and three fire stations rolled up on a fire at Cohen, Miller, & Hyde. There was smoke streaming out of the top floor windows of the building, and one corner was fully involved when they arrived. The sprinklers on the top level had been disabled, and there were several hook and ladder trucks as well as men dropping onto the roof to fight the flames.

  The heat was intense, and it took units an hour to knock down the fire. When the flames had been put out, the burnt remains of Howard Cohen’s condo was all that was left. Several firefighters made their way through the building, checking room to room in Cohen’s apartment when they made the gruesome discovery. LAPD sealed off the building and a call went out to LA Country Sheriff Jim O’Brian as well as the FBI.

  Jim and Sam were standing next to John’s truck several buildings down from Violet’s duplex when their cell phones rang, and John told them to get in his truck, and they headed for Howard Cohen’s building.

  Barbara was standing in front of her house when the sheriff’s cruiser pulled up carrying Violet Harper. She was screaming obscenities at the two deputies, and Barbara could hear her before the cruiser made it around the curved driveway. The deputies stopped the car at the entrance to the house and both got out of the car, leaving Violet in the back screaming at them. The driver walked over to Barbara and said, “I’m almost deaf. We don’t have to leave her here. We can make it look like an accident.” Barbara laughed and walked to the back door of the cruiser and pulled on the handle. It was locked. She looked at the driver, who pressed the key fob, and Barbara opened the door and leaned in.

  Violet went silent, and after a few moments, Barbara pulled her head out of the car, and Violet stepped out and looked at the two deputies and said, “I’m sorry for my behavior.” The two men looked at each other and got back in the car and took off.

  Barbara looked at Violet and said, “Not a fuckin’ w
ord. Follow me.”

  Jade and Jessica were on scene at Howard’s office when John and the others arrived. Jessica was recording the scene with her tablet as Jade recorded her observations when John and the others walked in. Jade threw them all gloves and said, “Burnt beyond recognition.”

  John looked at the burned corpse, its mouth open and its skin charcoal black, and asked, “Any notes, calls, anything?”

  Jade shook her head and said, “No. Nothing, but it gets better. This person didn’t die here. He or she had his or her head blown off and then someone took great pains to make identification of the corpse that much more difficult by removing the teeth.”

  John walked over near Aston’s corpse and looked hard at it. He asked for a steel probe and moved the head slightly to the right and saw what was left of one of the implants in the skull and said, “Well, whoever decided to kill this man didn’t think it through very carefully.” Jade looked on as Jessica was getting a body bag opened up on a gurney.

  “What do you mean, John?” Jade asked.

  “This person was deaf. Those are cochlear implants on the side of the skull, and Howard Cohen only had one deaf client that I know of, and that was Aston Phillips.”

  Jim looked at John and asked, “You think this is the body of Aston Phillips?”

  John nodded. Jade shot him a look and said, “You haven’t been on scene for five minutes, and you’re going to tell me that you know for a fact that this is Aston Phillips the billionaire?”

  He nodded, and Jessica asked, “Where is Chris?”

  John shrugged and said, “Overseeing another project for me with Philly and Lance.” The room was empty except for the five of them, and John asked, “Did you take care of the guest at the lair?”

  Jade nodded and said, “Yes. He’s on an autopsy table in my lab right now.” She looked at the three of them as Jessica was assisting in bagging up Aston’s burned remains and said, “Why is the skin on the back of my neck crawling, John? What do you know that I don’t?”