Blood Test

“It’s okay. I took a break. Gotta come up for air. Del told me about the Cuban. I called Houten and he told me what happened. Seems your friend is a hothead. Drove into town this morning like Gary Cooper before the big showdown. Barged in on Houten, demanded he arrest the Touch people for the murder of the Swopes, and claimed the boy and Nona were being held captive at their place. Houten told him they’d already been questioned by him, that I was planning to come down and do it again, and that the premises had been thoroughly searched. Melendez-Lynch wouldn’t listen, got really abusive and eventually Houten had to basically kick him out. He got in his car and drove straight to the Retreat.”

I groaned.

“Wait, it gets better. Apparently they have big iron gates at the front entrance that they keep locked. Melendez-Lynch drove up and started screaming for them to let him in. A couple of them came out to calm him down and it got physical. He absorbed most of the damage. They went back in, he started up his car and rammed the gate. At that point they called Houten and he busted Melendez-Lynch for disturbing the peace, malicious mischief, and who knows what else. Houten said the guy seemed like a lunatic and he got to wondering if we’d be interested in interviewing him. So he locked him up, offered him an attorney, which he refused, and gave him the proverbial one phone call.”

“Unbelievable.”

Milo laughed.

“Isn’t it? Between him and Valcroix and the stories Rick tells me, I’m losing what little faith I had in modern medicine. I mean, these guys are not confidence inspiring.”

“Maybe the Swopes didn’t think so either.”

“That’s right. If they saw the kind of flakiness we’ve been uncovering I can understand them wanting out.”

“Not as far out as they got.”

“Yeah. Once we’re sure the Saudi’s off the streets their case will be my number one problem. But it’s going to have to wait awhile because if we don’t play close attention to Shitpants, he’ll weasel out and be back in Riyadh before we know it.”

His words chilled me. Human life meant a lot to Milo, and if he thought Woody and Nona were alive he’d find a way, Saudi or not, to pursue their case aggressively.

I fought back my anger.

“When did you decide they were dead?”

“What? — Jesus, Alex, stop analyzing! I haven’t decided a goddamn thing. I’ve got platoons going through the canyons, I check the APB’s at least two, three times a day. So, it’s not like I’m sitting on my ass. But the fact is I’ve got a suspect in custody in one case and zilch on the other. Where would you put your priorities?”

“Sorry. I was way out of line. It’s just that it’s hard to think of that little boy as beyond hope.”

“I know, pal.” His tone softened. “I’m on the rag, too. Too much time spent with blood and crud. Just be careful you’re not getting overinvolved. Again.”

Unconsciously, I fingered my jaw.

“Okay. Now what’s the story with Raoul? I need to tell his girlfriend something.”

“No story. I told Houten we didn’t care if he let him go. The guy may be whacko but right now he’s not a suspect. Houten says he wants him escorted out of there. Melendez-Lynch hasn’t stopped ranting since they locked him up, and they don’t want him causing trouble the minute they let him out. If you think you can keep him calm, I’ll tell Houten to release him to your custody. Your being a shrink would make it look better, too.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve seen Raoul pull tantrums but never like this.”

“Up to you. Unless the guy calms down and agrees to talk to a lawyer or someone comes to get him, he could be there for a while.”

If word got out about Melendez-Lynch’s incarceration, his professional reputation would be compromised. I knew of no one close to him except Helen Holroyd and she was definitely not up to the task of dragging him away from La Vista.

“They’re calling me back, Alex,” Milo was saying, “gotta hold my nose and jump into it.”

“All right. Call the sheriff. Tell him I’ll get down there as soon as I can.”

“What a nice guy. Bye.”

I called Helen again and told her I’d secured the release of the esteemed Dr. Melendez-Lynch. She thanked me effusively and was starting to lapse into tears before I cut her off. For her own good.

15

THE SEVILLE glided onto the interstate shortly past noon. The first half of the two-hour journey to La Vista was a southward slice through the industrial underbelly of California. I sped past stockyards and freight docks, mammoth auto dealerships, grimy warehouses, and factories belching effluvia into a sky obscured by billboards. I kept the windows closed, the air conditioning on, and Flora Purim on the tape deck.