Hostage

Howell checked his watch, then nodded at Gayle Devarona, one of the two women at the table. Like Seymore, she had pretended to be a news reporter in order to openly ask questions. If the questions were too blatant to ask, she used her skills as a thief.

'What's up with the local cops?'

'We got sixteen full- and part-time employees, fourteen police officers and two full-time office people. I got their names here, and most of the addresses. I could've gotten the others, but I had to come here.'

Seymore laughed.

'Bitch, bitch, bitch.'

'Fist yourself.'

Howell told them to knock it off. Bullshit took time.

Devarona tore a single sheet from a yellow legal pad and passed it across the table to Howell.

'I got the names from the Bristo police office. The addresses and phones I got from a contact at the phone company.'

Howell scanned a neatly hand-printed list. Talley's name was at the top, along with his address and two phone numbers. Howell guessed that one was the house phone, the other a cell.

'You get any background on these people, see what we have to deal with?'

She went through what she had, which made Bristo sound like a burial ground for retired meter maids and retards. Not that bad, really, but Howell thought that they'd caught a break. He knew of small towns in Idaho where half the population had pulled time on LAPD's Robbery-Homicide Division and the other half were retired FBI. Try to fuck around up there, they'd hand you your ass. Howell checked his watch again. By midnight tonight, he could and would have credit checks and military records (if any) of each of these officers, as well as information about their families.

'What about Talley?'

Sonny Benza had specifically told him to zero in on Talley. You cut off the head, the body dies.

She said, 'I got what I could. Single, ex-LAPD. The condo he lives in is provided by the city.'

Seymore interrupted.

'Those cops I talked to out at Smith's place, they said Talley was a hostage negotiator in LA.'

Devarona scowled, like she hated him stepping on her goods.

'His last three years on the job. Before that, he was SWAT. There's a picture of him on the wall in their office, Talley in an assault suit, holding the big gun.'

Howell nodded at these last two bits of information. They were the first interesting things that he'd heard. He wondered how a SWAT-qualified crisis negotiator ended up crossing school kids in Beemerland. Maybe the free condo.

Devarona said, 'He was on LAPD a total of fourteen years, then he resigned. The woman I talked to didn't want to say, but I'd make him for a stress release. Something's hinky about why he hung it up.'

Howell made a note to pass that up to Palm Springs. He knew that Benza had people on the Los Angeles Police Department. If they turned something rotten on Talley, they might be able to use it as leverage. He had one last question about Talley.

'He work as a detective down there?'

'I asked about that. The girl didn't know, but it's still a good notion to follow up.'

When Devarona finished, Howell waited for more, but that was it. Everyone had given what they had. All in all, Howell couldn't kick. Start to finish, they'd had maybe two hours to get it together. Now there was more to do. He considered the sixteen names on Devarona's list. The list of bankers, lawyers, private investigators, and police officers owned by Sonny Benza and his associates was far longer; that list numbered in the hundreds, and all of those names could be brought to bear for the task at hand.

'Okay, get the rest of the addresses, then divide up the names and start digging. Gayle, you're on credit and finances. We get lucky, one of these clowns is gonna be in so deep that he's drowning. Maybe we can toss him a life preserver. Duane, Ruiz, find out where these people play. Some married doof is gonna keep a whore on the side; one of these turds is gonna like chasing the dragon with a fruit. Shovel dirt and find the skeletons. Ken, you're back at the house with the reporters. If anything breaks, I want to know about it before God.'

Seymore leaned back, irritated. Howell always got pissed off when he did that.

'Don't start with the faces, goddamnit. If you've got something to say, say it.'

'We're going to need more people. If this thing drags out a few days, we're gonna need a lot more.'

'I'm on it.'

Now Seymore leaned forward, and lowered his voice still more.

'If things get wet, we're going to need people who can handle that end.'

Wet work was blood work. Howell had already thought of that and had already made the call.

'The right people are on their way. You worry about your job. I got my side covered.'

Howell checked his watch again, then copied Talley's address and phone numbers on the bottom of the sheet. He tore off his copy, then stood.

'I want updates in two hours.'

Howell put Talley's address in his pocket as he walked out to his car. Not just anyone would murder a chief of police with an army of cameras and newspeople around. He needed someone special for a job like that.