Do No Harm

Jenkins called in the request, then he and David stood in silence as they awaited the other cars, not wanting even to sit on the couches in case that would disturb evidence. It was an awkward silence.

"How was Nancy?" David asked.

Jenkins shrugged. "Awful," he said. "She's awful." His head bobbed in an intimation of a nod. "What are you gonna do? What the fuck you gonna do?" He raised his hands, then let them fall to his sides. The silence of the room was deafening. "My first day on the job, we were responding to a radio call," he said. "Domestic violence. Some crackhead out in Central had shot his wife. I got there with Dalton-me and Dalton were partners before he got promoted. Kicked in the door. Lady was laid out in the kitchen. Sawed-off shotgun from about two feet. What was left of her head was pasted to the refrigerator. The thing is… " He paused and took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. "The thing is, she had a newborn. The baby had been playing in the other room, but it found her. Crawled across the damn apartment. It was nursing on her when we showed." He lowered his head. "That's the kind of thing you're supposed to see in a war. Bosnia, or some village in Vietnam. Not in an American city." He shook his head. "Not here."

A few cars pulled up front, blue lights flashing. Coming in the open front door without knocking, Yale announced his arrival with a sharp snap of his gum. He was dressed for the office at a Wall Street firm. Behind him, Dalton looked more aptly like someone roused in the middle of the night. His stained tie was jerked hard to one side, Rodney Dangerfield style, and he wore unmatched socks.

David followed them silently back to the bedroom. Yale appraised the scene silently, then gestured with two fingers for David and Dalton to follow him into the bathroom. He leaned into the shower and turned it on as hot as it went. The head sputtered a few times, then the water turned cloudy. Using his pen, Yale flicked the head to the side, and the water sprayed onto a bar of soap. It fizzed, then dissolved rapidly under the alkali.

"Looks like our boy had plans for your pretty face," Dalton said.

"No," David said. "He knows I've been unscrewing that showerhead every time before I turn on the water. That's what he wants-my anxiety."

Yale worked his gum as they headed back into the living room, where Jenkins was just signing off a radio call. "Everything clear on Peter Alexander," Jenkins told David.

Yale threw open the front door and nodded, and the Scientific Investigation Division poured into the house, toting bags and boxes.

Yale lowered his hard, cool eyes on David. "I'm gonna take a look around," he said. "Then why don't we have a chat at the barn. Get out of these boys' hair." He turned to Jenkins. "We got it from here." Yale winked at Jenkins, and Jenkins headed slowly for the door.

"Officer Jenkins," David called out. When Jenkins turned around, David said, "Thank you."

Jenkins nodded once before ducking outside.

Chapter 65

WAITING in the back of the detectives' generic sedan while Yale, Dalton, and the SID went over the house, David paged Ed on his cell phone. Ed was seemingly at a club or bar of some sort when he called back, leaving David to wonder when, exactly, he slept. In the background, Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" blared. For Ed to hear him, David had to raise his voice. Ed grew upset once David described the night's events, displaying an endearing sense of responsibility.

"I just got the security equipment delivered this afternoon. I was gonna install it at your house tomorrow. I've been on a stakeout all night. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," David said. "We can get it done today. Nothing truly awful happened. Besides, this might give us a good lead."

The sky was just beginning to lighten when Yale and Dalton emerged. On an ordinary day, David would just be getting ready for work. At a stoplight, they pulled alongside Dr. Woods, the lethargic gastroenterologist, in a BMW. His eyes first found the removable police light on the dash, and then he did a double take at David in the backseat. David raised his hands together, as if they were handcuffed, and waved. Woods's jaw was just beginning to drop when Yale pulled forward, leaving him at the stoplight.

David told the detectives about the picture frame and said he'd added Peter to his list of potential victims. Dalton threw a weary look in Yale's direction. "Captain's been chafing at all the OT as is. We're gonna have to kiss some serious ass to get another unit for Peter Alexander."

Yale took a turn a little too fast. "Pucker up."

When they pulled up to the station, David waited patiently to be let out. The LA Times dispenser showed a color photo of Don's fallen body in the ER waiting room, David looming unpleasantly in the background. Front page. It was too bad that no media had staked out David's house through the night; they might have seen Clyde breaking in.