The sun cracking through the blinds in our room heralded the beginning of a new day. I woke up naked. For a minute I was disoriented, Looking around the room.
I slowly remembered where I was. Looking over at Brenda sleeping next to me I felt a scene of security. And relief. I didn't move. Laying there looking up at the ceiling. Watching a couple of flies play tag with their shadows in the morning sun. Eventually, it all came back to me. Finding Lisa Mayer, the smell. Then I remembered the flashbacks. I rolled over and pulled Brenda close to me. She stirred and I kissed her. Somewhere in the rest of the early morning,
I begin to feel human again.
Much later, we were drinking coffee and eating toast, he told me she never opened the bar last night. It had been one of the few nights we hadn’t opened in a long time. The phone rang. Brenda answered it.
“Yes, he’s here,”
Handing the phone to me.
“Jim, I just wanted to see how you're doing this morning. I know you weren’t too good yesterday.” Bob asked on the other end of the line.
“I’m better, It was a rough night, But It seems to be over. I hope.” I replied hoping what I said was true.
“Listen, We got the warrant for the warehouse where Roberts is at. The stakeouts have finally spotted him.”
“Great, nothing like a dead body to get the judge’s attention.
I’ll be down at your office in about an hour.”
“That’ll work I have to get some stuff ready first.”
I hung up the phone.
“Looks like Bob finally got the warrant for the warehouse.” I relayed to Brenda.
An hour later showered and ready to rumble I arrived at the station. Walking into his small office I stopped short. Stone was there. The look I gave Bob must have told him I wasn’t happy to see Stone here.
“Jim, he’s only here to see what he can get on the porn side of the operation. He’s already agreed to let us have Roberts for the murder of Lisa Mayer. Oh, by the way, they did confirm it, it was Lisa Mayer. I’ll have a picture of her for Brenda to identify later.” I didn’t say much, just helped myself to a cup of coffee, which I needed like a hole in my head, I’d already drunk most of a pot at home with Brenda. Stone kept his distance from me. I knew he didn't like me, and would rather I wasn’t here, But there was nothing he could do about it. The feeling was mutual. I didn't like him much either. After a uniformed came in and handed Bob a pile of papers, we left.
I followed Bob in my car. Stone elected to take his own too. I noticed he kept his distance behind me, which suited me just fine.
The drive over to the warehouse was quiet. I forced myself to not think about last night. But I knew it wasn’t over. Once the memories were triggered They usually came in waves, something else would set them off again, and it would take less and less. I was not looking forward to the next few days.
We told the black & whites to hang back to start with. Bob pulled up near the unmarked stakeout car. Getting Out he walked over and talked to the two detectives in it.
A few minutes later he came back to me. By this time, Stone was getting antsy. And he got from his car and was approaching my car from behind. I noticed him coming up behind me on the right side in my mirror. Instinctively, I reached under my suit coat and loosened the .45 in it holster. I glanced across the street as Bob approached. In my mind's eye, I could see three cars and two men standing and talking at one. If I was in the war I’d raised the alarm and probably started shooting. People talking next to vehicles usually meant something was going to happen. My mind snapped back to now, as Bob approached my door.
“He says Roberts got here an hour ago, and as near as they can tell, there is no guard, at least watching outside.” I knew from experience, just because you don't see him, doesn't mean it's not there.
“ Bob I think they're onto us, Make a show of leaving All of use. Including the stakeout car. But not all at once Go around the corner at the end of the block and wait. I’ll bet as soon as they think we're gone, they’ll open the doors and try to leave. When they do, we catch them, here in the street.” I suggested. I’d done it during the war, and it worked pretty well. We captured most a load of officers that way, one time in Germany. But it never happened. Stone wasn’t having any part of my idea. He stormed back to his car and fired it up. The next thing any of us knew, he’d slammed it in gear, and turned sharply just missing my rear bumper and floored it directly into the driveway of the warehouse. Leaving the rest of to scramble. Bob jumped and ran to his car. I fired up mine and yanked my wheel sharply making tight turn into the driveway behind Stone. I was right. His car was met with a hail of gunfire. Somehow he avoided being hit by a bullet in the windshield of his old olds. I pulled in just behind him and to the right, Opening my door I pulled the .45, Ducking low to stay out of sight I returned fire. It was hard to see exactly where in the building there were. Bullets slammed into the front of my car. Walt would be having it fixed again. I thought briefly as I tried to get a position to cover Stone. The sounds of gunfire brought the black & whites in a hurry. The pulled in behind Stone and me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Bob coming upon my right, He had a shotgun. Somehow he managed to get behind my car, and he opened fire. The sound of the 12 gauge pump racking and going off over my shoulder was deafening, Not that any of us could hear anymore.
The officers from the black & Whites opened fire with shotguns and a couple of rifles. The crack of the rifles could be heard over the sound of the shotguns and pistols. Suddenly it was quiet. Save for the ringing in all of our ears. Looking around on the pavement beside me I found two empty magazines next to me. I didn't remember emptying them or reloading. Empty shell casings littered the ground. Both in .45. And in .38 special from some of the uniforms. And mixed in there were 12 gauge shotgun shells. All of our cars sustained heavy bullet damage. Stone’s car took the worst. Because he was lead car. The windshield and all the glass was gone. Along with holes in the door, and front fenders and grill, and holes in the seats going back to the rear seat. It was totaled. Probably not driveable. The steam and water running from the bottom of the radiator told me they had at least put holes in the radiator, and probably cracked the block, and destroyed the carboator . My old Ford had been hit again. This time on the front. My windshield and one side glass were gone. Because I was in at an angle behind stone’s car, I didn't get it quite as bad, but it was bad enough it needed major work.
We collected ourselves and made sure everyone was ok. Which miraculously no one was hurt. Part of me couldn’t believe Stone hadn’t gotten hit in the first round of shooting. His car took the brunt of the bullets. The engine and black catching most of them.
The warehouse was a mess. Bob kicked in what was left of the big sliding door, which had been riddled with bullets from our guns. Along with an office window where they had been shooting from. Inside the bullets never stopped. They easily went through the wood frame building those that didn't hit the solid frame, found their way back into several back rooms. The body count was six, three from the office where they’d been shooting, and three more in the main bay of the warehouse. Near the door. Several more surrendered to Bob and the uniforms. Calls were put into the station for ambulances and corner, and a crime scene crew.
In one of the back rooms, we found several young girls hiding in a corner. Scared out of their lives. But no sign of Ben Roberts, the mastermind behind all of this. Somehow, he had slipped out of the warehouse before the shooting started.
We spent the rest of the day processing the scene. And taking statements, In one of the back rooms, we found several young girls hiding in a corner. Scared out of their lives. But no sign of Ben Roberts, the mastermind behind all of this. Somehow, he had slipped out of the warehouse before the shooting started.
We spent the rest of the day processing the scene. And taking statements, and getting the prisoners processed to go to the station. The girls were another problem. They needed special care we couldn’t provide.
Bob called child protective care services, as they were the only ones even remotely qualified to handle the state the young girls were in. He didn't even try too hard to interview them right now, I didn’t blame him. In the state they were in, they were useless. Seeing the shape the girls were in brought me back to 1937 when I shot Edward Lane in self-defense. Something I hadn't thought about in years, I remembered the state I was in, It had been hard for me to talk at first but Bob had been patient and I was eventually able to give a full accounting of what had happened. I knew these girls were in much worse shape emotionally and physically, Then I was. I told Bob didn't hold out much hope of ever getting anything useful from any of them. He agreed but said he’d try in a few days.
To my surprise, I found a phone that worked. I called Brenda at home.
I gave her the rundown of what happened at the warehouse. And finding the girls hiding in a back room. And that Ben Roberts had escaped.
As an afterthought, just before I hung up, I told her to take precautions.
It occurred to me that If Ben Roberts had seen me out front, he would know I’d made the connection with him and Brenda. Brenda could be in danger again. I said as much to Bob, he agreed, and I beat it over to the house in record time.
Brenda had been lucky last time, she was able to get away at the bar, and again at the house, they didn’t know we were there, But this time, she might not be so lucky.
Ben Roberts had a head start on me. If he left just as we hit the building, he had at least an hour to get over here. A lot could happen in an hour. Hell, a lot could happen in sixty seconds. I’d seen it happen many times in the war. And several times since I’ve been back. Just as I pulled onto our street, I had that Scared Shitles feeling again. The one I had when I found the bar open and Brenda gone.
I slowed up at the corner, Looking down the block. Everything seemed as it should be, the usual cars were parked in the street for this time of day.
Taking my .45 from its shoulder holster, I approached our driveway carefully. I parked on the street in front of our bungalow. All seemed quiet.
So I went to the front door. It was locked as it should be, So I knocked softly. Stepping back away from the door as I did. A minute later I heard the lock turning inside. Brenda opened the door and let me in.
The sight of here safe and sound was enough to let me breathe again. I didn’t realize I had stopped breathing until I felt myself let giant burst of air into my lungs. I holstered my pistol and hugged her and we kissed.
It was then I noticed she had changed. Instead of the usual sundress, she wore around the house especially when it's hot like it is now. She now wearing jeans and t-shirt. And on her hip was a holster and in it was the .38 special revolver I’d given her to carry.
I gave her more details of the events at the warehouse. How Stone had run his car directly into the lot, and practically got himself killed and how we finally captured everyone there, But Ben Roberts had escaped. Probably just before or as we arrived. I called Walt.
Went over everything with him and told him the car needed fixing again. He said he’d meet us at the bar, with the car I had borrowed before. I thank him. we left the house.
All of the ways over to the bar, I kept a close eye on my mirrors. I didn't see any tails. That got me thinking as we drove. Why would a basically good cop pull a stunt like that? There were only two reasons; one he had a suicide complex and was trying to get killed in the line of duty. Stone was an idiot and an asshole. But from what Bob said he was a good cop, incompetent in some ways, but definitely not suicidal. That left reason two. He was trying to warn somebody. Somebody, he was scared enough to almost die trying to warn. It had never occurred to either of us to look for a connection between Stone and Ben Roberts. Which would explain why no one had found him in six months.
I carefully drove to the front of the bar, before going around back to park. We didn't see any extra cars sitting on the street. Usually, at this time of day, there were very few cars parked on the street. And I had long ago learned which ones belong there. Today all looked good.
Parking in the lot behind the bar. I again carefully checked around. About the time I unlocked the back door to the bar, Walt showed up in the same ford sedan I have been using before.
We tossed keys back and forth, he looked at the damage.
"They did a pretty good number on it."
“Yeah that's what happens when you drive into a hail of bullets, You should see Stone’s car, They had to tow it out along with a couple of black and Whites, The brass isn’t happy. As I was leaving a borough commander was arriving I heard he was looking for Bob. The worst part is Ben Roberts wasn’t there, at least not when we got done.” Then I went on to fill Walt and Brenda in on my thoughts on the way over. He agreed it was unlikely that he’d been trying to kill himself.
By now we were safely in the bar,
Brenda went into the kitchen and got us each a beer. Popping the tops off the bottles we leaned against the bar and sipped our beers. I stood up and wandered around the room. Looking at the various pictures and poster hung on the walls. Many were war posters and some dated back to almost world War I. But I kept coming back to the picture Brenda had bought. It was a larger print. I took it down from the wall, laying it on the bar in front of us I looked at it more closely. Going back to our offices I find the big round magnifying glass in one of our offices and bring it back. Walt and I realized we could see more than we thought we could. Yes, the bar was visible, along with several other clearly identifiable businesses along the block. .The phone rang.
I was nearest to the phone behind the bar.
“Yeah,” I growled into the receiver.
“Jim, we found some more of these aerial photos you mentioned the other day. A couple of them look really interesting. They show the streets the theater and junk shop is on.” Bob teased me.
“Great, Brenda and I will be right over.” With Ben Roberts on the loose and who knows where I wasn’t leaving her by herself. Walt said he’d watch the bar, and if we didn't get back in time, He’d open up. We thanked him and took off in the old Ford sedan, Walt had lent me again.
Walking right up to Bob’s office we went in without knocking. He had several large pictures spread out over his desk. These prints were much bigger than the big print Brenda had.
“Wow” was all I could say when I walked in.
“Yeah wow is right. There are a dozen pictures here. They show various neighborhoods across LA, Here's your picture Brenda.” Pulling one out of the pile. It indeed was the picture she had hanging in the bar. But twice as big. Everything was much easier to see and identify. Our bar was even clearer than in the smaller print.
“This is the one I think there were after, and I suspect that they thought you had gotten.’ Bob pulled another print from the pile. It did show the Russell Theater and the junk shop. But more importantly, it showed a couple of interesting cars. One was one of Ben’s cars We had seen it last week when we were at his place looking around. The other was a nondescript car.
Pointing to the second car next to Ben’s car, he added;
“That's Lisa Mayer’s car. I just confirmed it. The lab guys blow it up so we could get the plate, and it's definitely her’s. This places Ben Roberts with her at some time. Now we have to establish exactly when that was.”
“If this is the day that she said that He tried to assault her, then this proves her story.”
“And it answers a lot of questions.”Brenda chimed in.
“Yes, yes it does.” I agreed.
“Any luck on tracing the pictures, and who took them?”
“We’re still working on that. Also, how did Roberts find out about them?”
I leaned against Bob’s desk and thought out loud for a minute.
“What if you're in the junk shop with Lisa and you hear the planes flying low, and just as they’re flying over the street he goes out front and sees the plane, and its low enough that he sees the cameras mounted under the plane. Remember he’s in the film making business or is supposed to be, Point is; he knows whats mounted under the plane and realizes they could have taken a picture of the two cars on the street. Which they did. He gets lucky and gets the tail number of the plane, using his contacts in the film industry he finds out who was flying here that day and tracks him down, But before they get to him, the pictures have already been developed and distributed, The ones the client wanted, are taken, and the rest are sold off as surplus and he can’t get the negatives for whatever reason, So he needs to find all the pictures. He sees Brenda when she opens the door, which is bad enough, but after she leaves he finds out she bought the one aerial photo they had, and they don’t know which one it is. So he needs to get it back. Thus the kidnapping attempt, and the break-in at the house. To find the picture, and destroy it if needed.”
“Ok all of that hangs together, But how do we find out who the plane was and track down the photographer?”
“We don’t have a plane tail number, But we do have a date. What day did Lisa say that he attacked her?
Bob poked around through the stacks of notes, and reports,”March, I know it was early March.”
“Okay, once you find the date, the next step is the air traffic controllers they should have a record of all the planes flying and when, problem is that was probably a small plane, so it could be out of any of the dozens of small airport, or airstrips all over LA and the area.”
“The picture was taken six months ago, so by now, the pictures have been used for whatever they were taken for. If we could find where the pictures were used, we could track down where they came from.: Brenda piped in.
“Great idea, Brenda, Bob responded as he moved papers around on his desk, still trying to find a report from March.
“That picture would have been expensive, hire a plane, and the equipment to take the picture, and all, so I figured It would have to be a commercial use, say an ad or a billboard, or something like that.”
“That makes sense.” Brenda agreed.
“You couldn’t find anything in the pictures themselves? A watermark or a studio name stamped on the back of one?” Brenda asked Bob.
“No, but you're welcome to look again,” he grumbled. Still looking for his report.
“Yeah, I've got an idea about that... That guy I busted up a few days ago, The one who followed us and shot at us, Mark, Williams was it?”
“Yeah so.?” Bob stood up from the pile of papers on his desk.
“His address was in Van Nuys, and they have a small airport there,
I’ll bet he knows someone at the airport, Probably a smuggler or a pilot
Let's go ask him.” I suggested.
Bob welcomed the diversion from his piles of papers and looking for lost files.
The three of us went over to the hospital. There in the Prison ward was Mark Williams. Still confined to bed with two broken feet and a wired jaw from where I’d hit him several times. Bob nodded to the guard at the door to his room, he left.
“How are you doing there, Mark?” I asked cheerfully as we walked in.
The look he gave could have killed me if it was possible. He tried to say something but it was impossible to understand due to his mouth not working right.
“I got some questions for you there, Mark, Or technically Officer Clay here, has, but he’s gonna let me asked them.”
He glanced between the three of us. Bob held out his badge for him to see.
“Answer his questions or Brenda and I will go for a coffee.” The meaning was clear.
“Okey, here it is Mark, I remember you said you lived near the airport in Van Nuys, You know anyone over there? Especially a pilot that runs a small engine plane, one that could carry a camera?” He looked up at me blankly.
It's like this Mark, You tell me anything you know about Ben Roberts, and Lisa Mayer, and the airport, and we disappear, and when you get out, you live a long healthy life limping from one job to another, Or we can stay awhile and make more work for the doctors..” I let it trail off a bit as I leaned against his bed.
He suddenly found his voice. Talking through a wired jaw was a challenge, but he managed to find his memory.
Over the next few hours in short bust of talking and pain medication, he told us about working for Ben Roberts. Yeah, he knew Willie. He’d been there the night Brenda shot him. He never saw her, just heard the shot and saw Willie fall, and by the time he got out of the storeroom, She was gone. The other guy was Randel, who I killed at the car. I hadn’t heard what happened to him.
Yes, Ben Roberts was behind the whole thing. He had made the big movie last year, and Lisa Mayer was the star, and he wanted to play house during the shoot, but she wasn’t having any of it. Yeah, he knew about her filing charges against him, but they never went anywhere, because he talked her out of pushing them, By the time he had the second movie done, he'd tried it on for her again, but she still wasn’t playing.
As for the plane and pilot, he wasn’t sure who would have been flying back then. Bob told him not to go anywhere, and we’d be back. This all confirmed what we suspected. While we still didn't have a lead on the plane or pilot, we were now sure we were on the right track.
By now it was getting time to open the bar. So Bob headed back to the station to clock out for the day, and Brenda and I headed for the bar.
By the time we pulled into the back parking lot, Walt had opened the bar. A few of the regulars were already in and drinking. We took over, and Walt resumed his place at a corner table pretending to drink the same beer all evening.
The rest of the evening went smoothly, We closed up the bar as usual and headed home.
I slowly remembered where I was. Looking over at Brenda sleeping next to me I felt a scene of security. And relief. I didn't move. Laying there looking up at the ceiling. Watching a couple of flies play tag with their shadows in the morning sun. Eventually, it all came back to me. Finding Lisa Mayer, the smell. Then I remembered the flashbacks. I rolled over and pulled Brenda close to me. She stirred and I kissed her. Somewhere in the rest of the early morning,
I begin to feel human again.
Much later, we were drinking coffee and eating toast, he told me she never opened the bar last night. It had been one of the few nights we hadn’t opened in a long time. The phone rang. Brenda answered it.
“Yes, he’s here,”
Handing the phone to me.
“Jim, I just wanted to see how you're doing this morning. I know you weren’t too good yesterday.” Bob asked on the other end of the line.
“I’m better, It was a rough night, But It seems to be over. I hope.” I replied hoping what I said was true.
“Listen, We got the warrant for the warehouse where Roberts is at. The stakeouts have finally spotted him.”
“Great, nothing like a dead body to get the judge’s attention.
I’ll be down at your office in about an hour.”
“That’ll work I have to get some stuff ready first.”
I hung up the phone.
“Looks like Bob finally got the warrant for the warehouse.” I relayed to Brenda.
An hour later showered and ready to rumble I arrived at the station. Walking into his small office I stopped short. Stone was there. The look I gave Bob must have told him I wasn’t happy to see Stone here.
“Jim, he’s only here to see what he can get on the porn side of the operation. He’s already agreed to let us have Roberts for the murder of Lisa Mayer. Oh, by the way, they did confirm it, it was Lisa Mayer. I’ll have a picture of her for Brenda to identify later.” I didn’t say much, just helped myself to a cup of coffee, which I needed like a hole in my head, I’d already drunk most of a pot at home with Brenda. Stone kept his distance from me. I knew he didn't like me, and would rather I wasn’t here, But there was nothing he could do about it. The feeling was mutual. I didn't like him much either. After a uniformed came in and handed Bob a pile of papers, we left.
I followed Bob in my car. Stone elected to take his own too. I noticed he kept his distance behind me, which suited me just fine.
The drive over to the warehouse was quiet. I forced myself to not think about last night. But I knew it wasn’t over. Once the memories were triggered They usually came in waves, something else would set them off again, and it would take less and less. I was not looking forward to the next few days.
We told the black & whites to hang back to start with. Bob pulled up near the unmarked stakeout car. Getting Out he walked over and talked to the two detectives in it.
A few minutes later he came back to me. By this time, Stone was getting antsy. And he got from his car and was approaching my car from behind. I noticed him coming up behind me on the right side in my mirror. Instinctively, I reached under my suit coat and loosened the .45 in it holster. I glanced across the street as Bob approached. In my mind's eye, I could see three cars and two men standing and talking at one. If I was in the war I’d raised the alarm and probably started shooting. People talking next to vehicles usually meant something was going to happen. My mind snapped back to now, as Bob approached my door.
“He says Roberts got here an hour ago, and as near as they can tell, there is no guard, at least watching outside.” I knew from experience, just because you don't see him, doesn't mean it's not there.
“ Bob I think they're onto us, Make a show of leaving All of use. Including the stakeout car. But not all at once Go around the corner at the end of the block and wait. I’ll bet as soon as they think we're gone, they’ll open the doors and try to leave. When they do, we catch them, here in the street.” I suggested. I’d done it during the war, and it worked pretty well. We captured most a load of officers that way, one time in Germany. But it never happened. Stone wasn’t having any part of my idea. He stormed back to his car and fired it up. The next thing any of us knew, he’d slammed it in gear, and turned sharply just missing my rear bumper and floored it directly into the driveway of the warehouse. Leaving the rest of to scramble. Bob jumped and ran to his car. I fired up mine and yanked my wheel sharply making tight turn into the driveway behind Stone. I was right. His car was met with a hail of gunfire. Somehow he avoided being hit by a bullet in the windshield of his old olds. I pulled in just behind him and to the right, Opening my door I pulled the .45, Ducking low to stay out of sight I returned fire. It was hard to see exactly where in the building there were. Bullets slammed into the front of my car. Walt would be having it fixed again. I thought briefly as I tried to get a position to cover Stone. The sounds of gunfire brought the black & whites in a hurry. The pulled in behind Stone and me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Bob coming upon my right, He had a shotgun. Somehow he managed to get behind my car, and he opened fire. The sound of the 12 gauge pump racking and going off over my shoulder was deafening, Not that any of us could hear anymore.
The officers from the black & Whites opened fire with shotguns and a couple of rifles. The crack of the rifles could be heard over the sound of the shotguns and pistols. Suddenly it was quiet. Save for the ringing in all of our ears. Looking around on the pavement beside me I found two empty magazines next to me. I didn't remember emptying them or reloading. Empty shell casings littered the ground. Both in .45. And in .38 special from some of the uniforms. And mixed in there were 12 gauge shotgun shells. All of our cars sustained heavy bullet damage. Stone’s car took the worst. Because he was lead car. The windshield and all the glass was gone. Along with holes in the door, and front fenders and grill, and holes in the seats going back to the rear seat. It was totaled. Probably not driveable. The steam and water running from the bottom of the radiator told me they had at least put holes in the radiator, and probably cracked the block, and destroyed the carboator . My old Ford had been hit again. This time on the front. My windshield and one side glass were gone. Because I was in at an angle behind stone’s car, I didn't get it quite as bad, but it was bad enough it needed major work.
We collected ourselves and made sure everyone was ok. Which miraculously no one was hurt. Part of me couldn’t believe Stone hadn’t gotten hit in the first round of shooting. His car took the brunt of the bullets. The engine and black catching most of them.
The warehouse was a mess. Bob kicked in what was left of the big sliding door, which had been riddled with bullets from our guns. Along with an office window where they had been shooting from. Inside the bullets never stopped. They easily went through the wood frame building those that didn't hit the solid frame, found their way back into several back rooms. The body count was six, three from the office where they’d been shooting, and three more in the main bay of the warehouse. Near the door. Several more surrendered to Bob and the uniforms. Calls were put into the station for ambulances and corner, and a crime scene crew.
In one of the back rooms, we found several young girls hiding in a corner. Scared out of their lives. But no sign of Ben Roberts, the mastermind behind all of this. Somehow, he had slipped out of the warehouse before the shooting started.
We spent the rest of the day processing the scene. And taking statements, In one of the back rooms, we found several young girls hiding in a corner. Scared out of their lives. But no sign of Ben Roberts, the mastermind behind all of this. Somehow, he had slipped out of the warehouse before the shooting started.
We spent the rest of the day processing the scene. And taking statements, and getting the prisoners processed to go to the station. The girls were another problem. They needed special care we couldn’t provide.
Bob called child protective care services, as they were the only ones even remotely qualified to handle the state the young girls were in. He didn't even try too hard to interview them right now, I didn’t blame him. In the state they were in, they were useless. Seeing the shape the girls were in brought me back to 1937 when I shot Edward Lane in self-defense. Something I hadn't thought about in years, I remembered the state I was in, It had been hard for me to talk at first but Bob had been patient and I was eventually able to give a full accounting of what had happened. I knew these girls were in much worse shape emotionally and physically, Then I was. I told Bob didn't hold out much hope of ever getting anything useful from any of them. He agreed but said he’d try in a few days.
To my surprise, I found a phone that worked. I called Brenda at home.
I gave her the rundown of what happened at the warehouse. And finding the girls hiding in a back room. And that Ben Roberts had escaped.
As an afterthought, just before I hung up, I told her to take precautions.
It occurred to me that If Ben Roberts had seen me out front, he would know I’d made the connection with him and Brenda. Brenda could be in danger again. I said as much to Bob, he agreed, and I beat it over to the house in record time.
Brenda had been lucky last time, she was able to get away at the bar, and again at the house, they didn’t know we were there, But this time, she might not be so lucky.
Ben Roberts had a head start on me. If he left just as we hit the building, he had at least an hour to get over here. A lot could happen in an hour. Hell, a lot could happen in sixty seconds. I’d seen it happen many times in the war. And several times since I’ve been back. Just as I pulled onto our street, I had that Scared Shitles feeling again. The one I had when I found the bar open and Brenda gone.
I slowed up at the corner, Looking down the block. Everything seemed as it should be, the usual cars were parked in the street for this time of day.
Taking my .45 from its shoulder holster, I approached our driveway carefully. I parked on the street in front of our bungalow. All seemed quiet.
So I went to the front door. It was locked as it should be, So I knocked softly. Stepping back away from the door as I did. A minute later I heard the lock turning inside. Brenda opened the door and let me in.
The sight of here safe and sound was enough to let me breathe again. I didn’t realize I had stopped breathing until I felt myself let giant burst of air into my lungs. I holstered my pistol and hugged her and we kissed.
It was then I noticed she had changed. Instead of the usual sundress, she wore around the house especially when it's hot like it is now. She now wearing jeans and t-shirt. And on her hip was a holster and in it was the .38 special revolver I’d given her to carry.
I gave her more details of the events at the warehouse. How Stone had run his car directly into the lot, and practically got himself killed and how we finally captured everyone there, But Ben Roberts had escaped. Probably just before or as we arrived. I called Walt.
Went over everything with him and told him the car needed fixing again. He said he’d meet us at the bar, with the car I had borrowed before. I thank him. we left the house.
All of the ways over to the bar, I kept a close eye on my mirrors. I didn't see any tails. That got me thinking as we drove. Why would a basically good cop pull a stunt like that? There were only two reasons; one he had a suicide complex and was trying to get killed in the line of duty. Stone was an idiot and an asshole. But from what Bob said he was a good cop, incompetent in some ways, but definitely not suicidal. That left reason two. He was trying to warn somebody. Somebody, he was scared enough to almost die trying to warn. It had never occurred to either of us to look for a connection between Stone and Ben Roberts. Which would explain why no one had found him in six months.
I carefully drove to the front of the bar, before going around back to park. We didn't see any extra cars sitting on the street. Usually, at this time of day, there were very few cars parked on the street. And I had long ago learned which ones belong there. Today all looked good.
Parking in the lot behind the bar. I again carefully checked around. About the time I unlocked the back door to the bar, Walt showed up in the same ford sedan I have been using before.
We tossed keys back and forth, he looked at the damage.
"They did a pretty good number on it."
“Yeah that's what happens when you drive into a hail of bullets, You should see Stone’s car, They had to tow it out along with a couple of black and Whites, The brass isn’t happy. As I was leaving a borough commander was arriving I heard he was looking for Bob. The worst part is Ben Roberts wasn’t there, at least not when we got done.” Then I went on to fill Walt and Brenda in on my thoughts on the way over. He agreed it was unlikely that he’d been trying to kill himself.
By now we were safely in the bar,
Brenda went into the kitchen and got us each a beer. Popping the tops off the bottles we leaned against the bar and sipped our beers. I stood up and wandered around the room. Looking at the various pictures and poster hung on the walls. Many were war posters and some dated back to almost world War I. But I kept coming back to the picture Brenda had bought. It was a larger print. I took it down from the wall, laying it on the bar in front of us I looked at it more closely. Going back to our offices I find the big round magnifying glass in one of our offices and bring it back. Walt and I realized we could see more than we thought we could. Yes, the bar was visible, along with several other clearly identifiable businesses along the block. .The phone rang.
I was nearest to the phone behind the bar.
“Yeah,” I growled into the receiver.
“Jim, we found some more of these aerial photos you mentioned the other day. A couple of them look really interesting. They show the streets the theater and junk shop is on.” Bob teased me.
“Great, Brenda and I will be right over.” With Ben Roberts on the loose and who knows where I wasn’t leaving her by herself. Walt said he’d watch the bar, and if we didn't get back in time, He’d open up. We thanked him and took off in the old Ford sedan, Walt had lent me again.
Walking right up to Bob’s office we went in without knocking. He had several large pictures spread out over his desk. These prints were much bigger than the big print Brenda had.
“Wow” was all I could say when I walked in.
“Yeah wow is right. There are a dozen pictures here. They show various neighborhoods across LA, Here's your picture Brenda.” Pulling one out of the pile. It indeed was the picture she had hanging in the bar. But twice as big. Everything was much easier to see and identify. Our bar was even clearer than in the smaller print.
“This is the one I think there were after, and I suspect that they thought you had gotten.’ Bob pulled another print from the pile. It did show the Russell Theater and the junk shop. But more importantly, it showed a couple of interesting cars. One was one of Ben’s cars We had seen it last week when we were at his place looking around. The other was a nondescript car.
Pointing to the second car next to Ben’s car, he added;
“That's Lisa Mayer’s car. I just confirmed it. The lab guys blow it up so we could get the plate, and it's definitely her’s. This places Ben Roberts with her at some time. Now we have to establish exactly when that was.”
“If this is the day that she said that He tried to assault her, then this proves her story.”
“And it answers a lot of questions.”Brenda chimed in.
“Yes, yes it does.” I agreed.
“Any luck on tracing the pictures, and who took them?”
“We’re still working on that. Also, how did Roberts find out about them?”
I leaned against Bob’s desk and thought out loud for a minute.
“What if you're in the junk shop with Lisa and you hear the planes flying low, and just as they’re flying over the street he goes out front and sees the plane, and its low enough that he sees the cameras mounted under the plane. Remember he’s in the film making business or is supposed to be, Point is; he knows whats mounted under the plane and realizes they could have taken a picture of the two cars on the street. Which they did. He gets lucky and gets the tail number of the plane, using his contacts in the film industry he finds out who was flying here that day and tracks him down, But before they get to him, the pictures have already been developed and distributed, The ones the client wanted, are taken, and the rest are sold off as surplus and he can’t get the negatives for whatever reason, So he needs to find all the pictures. He sees Brenda when she opens the door, which is bad enough, but after she leaves he finds out she bought the one aerial photo they had, and they don’t know which one it is. So he needs to get it back. Thus the kidnapping attempt, and the break-in at the house. To find the picture, and destroy it if needed.”
“Ok all of that hangs together, But how do we find out who the plane was and track down the photographer?”
“We don’t have a plane tail number, But we do have a date. What day did Lisa say that he attacked her?
Bob poked around through the stacks of notes, and reports,”March, I know it was early March.”
“Okay, once you find the date, the next step is the air traffic controllers they should have a record of all the planes flying and when, problem is that was probably a small plane, so it could be out of any of the dozens of small airport, or airstrips all over LA and the area.”
“The picture was taken six months ago, so by now, the pictures have been used for whatever they were taken for. If we could find where the pictures were used, we could track down where they came from.: Brenda piped in.
“Great idea, Brenda, Bob responded as he moved papers around on his desk, still trying to find a report from March.
“That picture would have been expensive, hire a plane, and the equipment to take the picture, and all, so I figured It would have to be a commercial use, say an ad or a billboard, or something like that.”
“That makes sense.” Brenda agreed.
“You couldn’t find anything in the pictures themselves? A watermark or a studio name stamped on the back of one?” Brenda asked Bob.
“No, but you're welcome to look again,” he grumbled. Still looking for his report.
“Yeah, I've got an idea about that... That guy I busted up a few days ago, The one who followed us and shot at us, Mark, Williams was it?”
“Yeah so.?” Bob stood up from the pile of papers on his desk.
“His address was in Van Nuys, and they have a small airport there,
I’ll bet he knows someone at the airport, Probably a smuggler or a pilot
Let's go ask him.” I suggested.
Bob welcomed the diversion from his piles of papers and looking for lost files.
The three of us went over to the hospital. There in the Prison ward was Mark Williams. Still confined to bed with two broken feet and a wired jaw from where I’d hit him several times. Bob nodded to the guard at the door to his room, he left.
“How are you doing there, Mark?” I asked cheerfully as we walked in.
The look he gave could have killed me if it was possible. He tried to say something but it was impossible to understand due to his mouth not working right.
“I got some questions for you there, Mark, Or technically Officer Clay here, has, but he’s gonna let me asked them.”
He glanced between the three of us. Bob held out his badge for him to see.
“Answer his questions or Brenda and I will go for a coffee.” The meaning was clear.
“Okey, here it is Mark, I remember you said you lived near the airport in Van Nuys, You know anyone over there? Especially a pilot that runs a small engine plane, one that could carry a camera?” He looked up at me blankly.
It's like this Mark, You tell me anything you know about Ben Roberts, and Lisa Mayer, and the airport, and we disappear, and when you get out, you live a long healthy life limping from one job to another, Or we can stay awhile and make more work for the doctors..” I let it trail off a bit as I leaned against his bed.
He suddenly found his voice. Talking through a wired jaw was a challenge, but he managed to find his memory.
Over the next few hours in short bust of talking and pain medication, he told us about working for Ben Roberts. Yeah, he knew Willie. He’d been there the night Brenda shot him. He never saw her, just heard the shot and saw Willie fall, and by the time he got out of the storeroom, She was gone. The other guy was Randel, who I killed at the car. I hadn’t heard what happened to him.
Yes, Ben Roberts was behind the whole thing. He had made the big movie last year, and Lisa Mayer was the star, and he wanted to play house during the shoot, but she wasn’t having any of it. Yeah, he knew about her filing charges against him, but they never went anywhere, because he talked her out of pushing them, By the time he had the second movie done, he'd tried it on for her again, but she still wasn’t playing.
As for the plane and pilot, he wasn’t sure who would have been flying back then. Bob told him not to go anywhere, and we’d be back. This all confirmed what we suspected. While we still didn't have a lead on the plane or pilot, we were now sure we were on the right track.
By now it was getting time to open the bar. So Bob headed back to the station to clock out for the day, and Brenda and I headed for the bar.
By the time we pulled into the back parking lot, Walt had opened the bar. A few of the regulars were already in and drinking. We took over, and Walt resumed his place at a corner table pretending to drink the same beer all evening.
The rest of the evening went smoothly, We closed up the bar as usual and headed home.