Chapter 21
Cyrus stood next to Briana near the stern of the Coast Guard cutter as the chopper lifted off. They leaned in against the stiff wind that radiated from its whirling blades.
“Do you think Dana will survive?” Briana shouted as she put her arms around him.
Cyrus waited for the MEDEVAC to clear the deck, and the loud pop, pop, pop sound of its rotors to fade, and then he replied, “He’ll make it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“He’s got a special lady counting on him.”
“I should have known,” Briana said, “He is a special gentleman.”
Cyrus nodded his head and then gazed out over the stern. He spotted the burnt wreck of the Diane Marie. The trawler dipped and swayed silently a few yards away as Guardsmen, armed with pistols, swarmed its deck, methodically searching for weapons and explosives.
“I am sorry I doubted you about Dana,” Briana said.
“I would have done the same. I had my own doubts about him.”
“I did see him there at Rincon Beach.”
“I know.”
Briana released herself gently from his embrace. “Then why do you think he is innocent if you believe me?”
Cyrus turned around and said, “I believe you saw him the first time, when Mike and Dana struggled and then left. It’s the second time. When you said you saw him standing over Mike holding the bat in his hand. The blonde you saw was not Dana Mathers.”
“I saw the scar Cyrus. It was him.”
“When you got back from your swim that morning, what did you do with your contacts?”
“I took them off, as you full well know. The salt water stings my eyes. But I can still see pretty good without them.”
“Right, and you were how far away from them?”
“About from here to the end of the helipad, over there,” she pointed to thick white line at the outer ring of the helipad’s marking.
Cyrus starting walking across the landing pad and back to the cutter’s wheelhouse as he spoke, “That’s at least thirty, maybe forty feet away. I have twenty twenty and I couldn’t ID someone positively from that distance. I think you thought you saw Dana and the scar.”
“How can you be so sure I am wrong?” Briana said, as she followed him.
“From you own words.”
“What words?”
“In your statement you said you saw Dana run quickly to the piece of driftwood and hide the bat.”
“That is true, that is what I saw.”
“Well it couldn’t have been Dana. He has a slight paralysis in his left leg and can barely bend his knee. The best he could have managed was a brisk hobble.”
Briana ran until she caught up with him, “I am glad, actually. Well not glad, I made a mistake, I mean-“
“I know exactly what you mean,” Cyrus said.
“But what about the scar? I know I do not have perfect vision, but I am sure I saw a scar running down the person’s neck, just like the one Dana has.”
“Then there must be two blonde haired men with long scars down there necks because you couldn’t have seen Dana that morning.”
“Then who did I see?”
“I have a couple of suspects. Dana isn’t the only tall blonde in California-as someone once told me.”
“There is something I did lie about Cyrus.”
“If you’re talking about you’re cover, I understand.”
“Then you know I wasn’t there for a just a swim, right?”
“You were there to meet with Moon, I assume. So let me guess the rest. You also told him that a blonde haired man with scar down his back had just killed Mike Tanner, right?”
“Correct.”
“How did they react when you told them? Do you remember what they said?”
“Yes, it was Moon I spoke with on my cell. He said for me to get out of there before the police arrived and then I heard him say to Duncan ‘Dana Mathers has killed Mike’.”
“So Moon knew Dana Mathers was going to be at Rincon Beach to meet Mike. They must have set the whole scene up.”
“They knew and so did I. They used me as their witness. I went along with their plan to get to Moon.” Briana ran ahead again and stopped in front of him, “How can I fix this for you and Dana?”
“Help me get face time with Jeff Moon.”
“Why? You don’t think he killed Mike Tanner do you?”
“He’s killed three men in the last forty eight hours, and tried to kill three thousand. Mike Tanner knew him, so I have to be sure he wasn’t on his list of victims.”
“But he was so adamant about killing Dana for murdering Mike. I’m sure he thought Mathers killed Mike.”
“That, or he was making a scene to cover up his guilt.”
Briana laughed and then she said, “Jeff Moon worried about guilt? You must be kidding?”
Cyrus let out a sigh then he said, “I know, but I might get a lead on the real killer if I can talk to him.”
“I’ll do my best, Cyrus. But what happens to Dana now?”
“Worst case scenario, I give his lawyer Martinez the evidence I have that clears Dana and he gets a judge to overturn his conviction.”
“I guess my testimony will be made public. Well at least I have-”
“It won’t go public. I have other evidence that clears Dana.”
“So why don’t you just clear Dana now and spare yourself anymore time with Moon?”
“I guess I just don’t like unsolved mysteries.”
“What about Dana?”
“His idea, he wants to find Mike’s killer too.”
Once they had crossed the helipad, they continued walking alongside the cutter’s gunwale until they reached the pilot house doorway. Cyrus stepped inside and poured a cup of coffee for him and Briana. He stepped back outside and handed one of the coffees to her. They stood there and watched the Guardsman pick through the ruins of the Diane Marie.
As they sipped on their coffee in silence, an FBI helo landed. A man wearing an FBI jacket emerged from its side. Once he cleared the helipad he stopped, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed a number.
“I think someone is trying to call you,” Cyrus said.
“He’s not going to get an answer unless King Neptune has found my cell.”
He walked with Briana back to the helipad. Before they could reach him another FBI chopper landed. A squad of four FBI jacketed men exited and trotted toward the ships infirmary.
Once they were close enough to be heard, Briana said to the FBI man “I am Agent Carswell,” and then she extended her hand toward Cyrus. “And this is Detective Sergeant Cyrus Fleming,” she said.
The agent gave them a derisive sneer and said, “What’s with the uniforms?”
“It’s the only dry clothes they had on board,” Cyrus said. He tucked in his stomach and kept himself hidden behind Briana as much as possible. The dark blue jump suit felt as tight as his own skin.
“Special Agent Drisco is waiting for us back in Ventura,” the agent said.
The other FBI agents returned along with a handcuffed Moon and his Asian colleagues, and loaded them onto the chopper. The EMTs aboard treated their wounds, and then they were transported back to Oxnard airport. Briana, Cyrus, and Max followed later in a second chopper.
Once they landed, Briana separated Moon from the rest of the prisoners and then loaded him into a prisoner transport van that was parked at the edge of the runway. After talking with Agent Drisco, she got the clearance Cyrus needed. He was to ask him questions strictly on his involvement with the sabotage of his cruiser and nothing else.
Cyrus climbed into the back of the van and sat down on the bench across from Moon. The hot air inside the van caused Cyrus to sweat and he had to force down a reflexive gag from Moon’s soured milk body odor.
Moon sat with his head down. Both of his legs were twitching uncontrollably. Cyrus noticed that Moon had leg chains and hand cuffs.
“You know something?” Moon said.
“What’s that?”
“After all the bad stuff that’s happened, I can’t believe how fortunate I have just become.”
Before Cyrus could ask him what he was talking about, he felt his throat light up with pain. In less than an instant, Moon had jumped up from his seat and wrapped the chains on his handcuffs around Cyrus’s throat. He grabbed at the metal necklace and managed to push it far enough away so that he could take a quick breath. Rolling over onto the floor of the van, he took Moon down with him and caused him to smack his head hard on the solid, metal reinforced floor. Working his fingers in between his neck and the chain that squeezed his throat, he pushed out as hard as he could until he could breathe.
He felt Moon’s grip weakening so he pushed harder with both hands until the chain was over his chin. Tucking his head close to his chest he jerked it back as hard as he could into what he assumed was Moon’s face. The tension on the chain disappeared and he could feel warm liquid dripping on the back of his head. Must have hit a home run, he said to himself as he got up.
Moon lay on the floor, holding his bloodied nose and groaning. Cyrus stood over him.
“Everything all right in there?” a voice said from outside the van.
Cyrus knelt down and covered Moon’s mouth his hand. He took a few deep breaths and said, “We’re just fine in here, just fine.”
Grabbing hold of Moon’s hair with the other hand, he pulled him up off the floor and stood him up, “Shut up groaning Moon,” he said, “or I’ll break your geek neck.”
Moon stopped and widened his eyes. Cyrus could tell from his panicked look he didn’t want to die, a fact that gave Cyrus great relief. For as much as he wanted him to die, he needed some answers. He let go his hand from his mouth so Moon could breathe and then set him down on the bench. Pulling out a handkerchief from his back pocket, he handed it to him. Cyrus sat down across from him. Wiping Moon’s blood from his hand and the back of his head, he said, “I missed you, too Moon.”
Moon rubbed the blood from his face with the handkerchief and said, “What do you want, porky?”
“Dana Mathers didn’t kill Mike Tanner.”
“That’s a lie, Briana was there. She saw him do it.”
“Not really. She thought she did, but Dana can’t run. He’s got a lame leg. The guy she saw could run pretty fast.”
Mike sat up and threw the bloody handkerchief on the floor of the van. “Then who killed him?”
“That’s what I am trying to find out. That was you in the tow truck with Mr. Pony Tail at Rincon Beach the day Mike died, wasn’t it?”
“Mr. Pony Tail? Oh, you mean Mason, yeah that was me with him,” Mike replied, and then he pointed his finger at Cyrus and continued, “If you find out who killed Mike I promise I won’t kill you after I break out of prison.”
Cyrus felt a flush of anger course through him. He clenched both his fists and took a deep breath. He could feel the sharp bruise around his throat, which still hurt when he swallowed. Moon sat across from him, shaking both his legs.
“You torched my squad car, didn’t you?”
Moon’s face lit up, “Was it a nice ride?” he asked.
Briana is right, Cyrus said to himself, if Moon had killed Mike Tanner, he wouldn’t care who knew about it. Moon really is insane. “How’d you know I was going to be driving my squad car that night and be at that particular on ramp?”
“Who do you think sabotaged the prison transport van?”
“You took Mike’s Cooper back to the police compound right?”
“That’s right, we had to check it so there wasn’t anything around that mentioned our plan.”
“You took the car to the car wash on the way, right?”
“No, what the hell would we do that for? It was spotless already.”
Cyrus put his hand to his neck and paused. Now he knew why he couldn’t find anyone who had seen Mr. Ponytail or Moon at the car washes. If Moon didn’t clean that car from blood stains somebody else did, and they probably murdered Mike Tanner. He still wasn’t ready to cross off Moon’s name from his suspect list, so he continued, “You act like you’re so concerned with Mike’s death, but I think you’re lying?”
“And?”
“You knew Mike hated Mathers and if they got together there was going to be a fight, and Mike Tanner would get his head kicked in good. If you liked him so much why did you go along with it?”
“Duncan set it up. He told me we needed to get Mathers thrown in jail. That way that Nazi Senator Dunbar wouldn’t get his hands on Mathers’s report and end the moratorium. We didn’t plan on Mike getting killed. I told him not to push Mathers too hard.”
“Right, blame it on Duncan. Tell the truth Moon. You were just getting tired of the rich kid pulling the strings and telling you what to do, weren’t you?”
“You’re stupid. How could I have done it? I was with Duncan.”
“You weren’t with him the whole time and you’re pretty good with the disguises. You knew Mathers was going to be there. You knew Briana was there ready to call the cops at the first sign of trouble. All you had to do was bop Mike on the head. Get Mr. Pony Tail to help you lug his body down to the beach where Briana could be a convenient witness for you. Only she would see you or Mr. Pony Tail disguised as Dana Mathers. Yeah, I think we can pin this on you pretty easily.”
“Are you trying to scare me fatso? I am going get out of prison before the cell door slams shut. You hear me? I didn’t kill Mike Tanner. I needed him. The whole plan depended on him?”
“How?”
“He had the connections with the press that’s how. After he scooped them on the Laguna Beach fire, he owned them.”
“Then why didn’t you call it off after Mike was killed?”
“We got a replacement, that’s why?”
“Who?”
Mike bent down, picked up the bloodstained handkerchief and rubbed his nose. “We’re finished blubber boy. I am not ratting on anyone.”
Cyrus shook his head, “Just like I thought. You being so close with Mike. Just an act.” As Cyrus got up and started for the back door of the van. Moon grabbed his arm,
“Wait a minute,” he said, “I don’t remember her name but he really had the hots for her.”
“Her name? It was a woman?”
“She’s tall and blonde he told me, and she worked for him. That’s all I can remember.”
“I know who she is. Who set this up, Duncan?”
“Who else? I told I don’t even know her name. Duncan said she was reliable. She didn’t want to know any details about our plan beforehand or money. Getting the story was all she wanted.”
“What was she supposed to do?”
“You mean ‘is’ she supposed to do. She’s going to write our story. The true story of our heroic struggle against the industrial machine and how we risked everything to bring it down.”
“Really? Is she going to include in her true story the part about how a ruthless, murderous slug, who had every advantage life could give him, betrayed his country to the Chinese and unsuccessfully tried to murder three thousand of his fellow citizens.”
“Fellow citizens? More like little Eichmann’s. They would have got what they deserved if our plan had succeeded. Fat, lazy Americans who care more about their Hummer’s than the planet they live on. Good riddens to-”
Moon couldn’t finish his sentence because Cyrus was pinching his adam’s apple. Moon grabbed at his hands and began kicking at him.
“Stay still or I’ll crush it.”
Moon stopped struggling. Cyrus pulled him up close by his throat and spoke into his ear, “Once I find Mike Tanner’s killer, I am going to retire. You may be wondering what possible reason could I have for wanting you to know this information. Well I’ll tell you. Once I retire, I will no longer be an officer of the court sworn to uphold the laws of the State of California. I will be a senior citizen, replete with a conceal and carry permit and an attitude. I promise you this, Moon. If you manage to escape San Quentin, I will find you and I will kill you.”
When Cyrus let go of Moon’s throat, he collapsed on the bench and started coughing uncontrollably.
Cyrus turned to go, but before he could reach the door, it sprang open. A tall, thin man wearing a badge that said Special Agent Drisco stepped up into the back.
“What’s wrong with him?” he said pointing to Moon. Who by now was hacking away and tossing and turning on the small bench.
“I am sorry. I gave him some gum. He must have got it down the wrong pipe,” Cyrus said.
“What’s wrong with your neck?”
“Oh, that happened when I was out on the water, it’s nothing.”
The agent stepped back down out of the van and yelled for a medic. Cyrus got out after him. His cell phone rang. Bernie called to tell him they had found Moon’s truck complete with a full array of welding tools. As Cyrus hung up the phone, Max showed up with the cruiser.
“Let’s go,” Cyrus said as he climbed in.
“Where to?”
“Community Memorial,” he said as Max pulled away from the curb.
“Hey, that’s where I am going,” a voice said from the back of the car.
Cyrus turned around and saw Briana sitting in the back seat smiling. Her face turned serious.
“I heard Drisco calling for a medic,” she said, “Did you kill Moon?”
“Of course not,” Cyrus said.
“You did something, or else why the medic?”
“I just choked him a little.”
Briana shook her head, “Can he still talk?”
“He’s fine, just fine. Don’t worry.”
Guarded from the press by a squadron of uniformed police, Cyrus, Briana, and Max sat in the emergency waiting room of Community Memorial Hospital waiting for word from the doctor about Dana’s condition.
Cyrus sipped on a hot coffee, the taste of which could not penetrate the crud-like film in his mouth. His eyes, bloodshot like cracked plates, and his face, covered with stubble, gave him the appearance of a drunk after a week long binge. Briana, sitting next to him on a thin-cushioned, uncomfortable, couch, held his hand and rested her head on Cyrus’s shoulder.
“How long have we been waiting?” Briana said, as she sat up.
Cyrus set his coffee down on the table in front of them and looked at his broken wristwatch. He shook his head and then retrieved his cell phone from his pocket. Water dripped from its seams. He threw it down on the table in disgust. Briana tapped his arm and when he turned his face toward her, she pointed to the clock on the wall.
“Oh,” he said, “Three hours, now.”
A loud commotion coming from the hospital lobby startled Cyrus out of his trancelike state. He noticed a nurse and an attendant wheeling a man in a stretcher behind large double doors. An obese, bug-eyed Asian man bled freely from his forehead, as a young doctor called out instructions to the nurse over the cries of a woman trailing behind.
Cyrus, Max, and Briana sat motionless and did not respond to the pandemonium. After the commotion died down, Max spoke, “Ironic isn’t it?”
“What’s that?” Briana asked.
“We were saved from the evil, renewable energy scientist by a few cans of good old, fossil fuel. I wonder if you can make Molotov cocktails with ethanol. ”
Cyrus and Briana groaned.
“The gasoline saving us from Moon wasn’t the most ironic thing that happened,” Cyrus said.
“Yeah, what was more ironic?” Max said.
Briana laughed.
“What’s so funny?” said Max.
“You, you’re more ironic, get it?”
They all laughed.
“But I want to know, what event had greater irony,” Max said as he cast a sideways glance at Briana.
“The most ironic event was Moon saving the life of the man he hated most of all, Dana Mathers.”
“How’s that again?” Max said.
“One of the EMTs told me on the drive over in the ambulance. Dana has wounds on the side of his abdomen he thinks could only have come from a shark attack.”
“So Dana was attacked by the same shark that Duncan was?”
“Had to be. When Moon dumped Duncan overboard, he probably distracted the shark and saved Dana.”
“I’m glad you saved Duncan, Cyrus. I’d have done all that undercover work for nothing if you had popped that shark before it swallowed him.”
“He can’t miss,” Max said.
Briana’s cell phone rang. She answered and after a few moments of listening she said, “All right, I am on my way.” She hung up and said to Cyrus, “Duncan’s regained consciousness, I have to go.”
Cyrus watched her enter the hospital lobby and then go around the corner to the elevator. Overcome by fatigue, he dozed off.
A moment later he was awaken by a gentle nudge on his knee. When he opened his eyes, the tall, lanky, form of Deidra Jones appeared before him.
“Hello Detective Fleming,” she said, “Is there any word on Dana Mathers?”
“You certainly have a keen interest in Dana Mathers for an ex-girlfriend.”
“Why wouldn’t I? We’re still friends and I am a member of the press after all.”
“Hardly, you’re a Senior Editor of a local paper that rarely does any hard news. So why are you doing the job of a reporter?”
“Whatever. As a Senior Editor I can like, do what I want. I am very familiar with the main subject, after all.”
“Yes, very familiar, that’s something I’d like to talk more about with you later.”
“And I have some questions for you I need answered right now. Why did you allow Dana Mathers to be put in danger? That’s the second time he has had to rescue you, isn’t it?”
“I have no comment.”
“Why was he in your custody, Detective Fleming?”
“That’s police business.”
“Wasn’t he supposed to be serving time for the murder of Mike Tanner?”
“You know, Miss Jones,” Cyrus said, “I don’t really mean to be rude, it’s just that now is not a good time. We haven’t had much sleep. I could give you my phone number and you could call me later. How about lunch tomorrow over at Parmeneli’s. I’d be glad to answer any questions you have about what happened.”
“Well, as long as you promise not to talk to anyone else in the press before now and tomorrow morning.”
“It will be an exclusive just for you… uh, could you loan me your pen?”
She handed the thick, ergonomic, writing instrument to him in an instant. He grasped it near the point, carefully avoiding the place where Deidra had held it. He observed that she was still wearing the large diamond ring on her right hand. He dropped the pen on the carpet floor; when he attempted to retrieve it, he nudged it softly under the sofa with his foot.
“What a clumsy clown I am, Miss Jones. I am so sorry-”
“Don’t worry about it, Detective; I have my blackberry with me, just like, tell me your number.”
Cyrus complied. Deidra entered the number. As soon as she finished her phone rang. She put it to her ear and after a few moments she said, “All right, I’ll be over in a few minutes.” She put her cell back into her purse and left.
“Max, can you get me an evidence bag?” Cyrus said once he was sure Deidra was gone.
“Sure.” Max got up and started for the hospital lobby door. He stopped in the doorway and said, “Were you just now using your people voice with Deidra Jones?”
“Yeah, and she’s so vain she didn’t notice.”
Moments later Max returned with an evidence bag for the pen and a cop following him. Putting pen in the baggie, he passed it to the policeman and said, “Take this to forensics to get a set of prints off of them. Have them checked against the fingerprints on the bat.”
“Any bat in particular?”
“The one in the Tanner case, Thurston will know. Get back to us with the results as soon as can.”
As soon as the cop had left, Cyrus turned to Max and said, “We need to find out when exactly Deidra Jones stopped visiting Dana.”
“What are you talking about?” Max replied.
“After Dana had his accident, Deidre came to visit him every day for several weeks. I need to know the exact date she stopped.”
“I can tell you that, Cyrus.” Kelsey Tanner said.
Startled, Cyrus stood up. Kelsey hurried over to Cyrus and gave him a long hug.
“How is Dana, Kelsey?”
“The doctor says Dana is going to be fine. The Coast Guard men did a good job keeping his body core temperature warm with IVs. The bends he suffered are minor. His ribs are broken, but he can breathe. He’s asking for you.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, he is awake and lucid.”
“Well I don’t want to keep him waiting, let’s go,” Cyrus said as he headed back to the hospital lobby. He stopped abruptly, turned to Max, who was following behind him and said, “Can your run a check on this phone number?”
“Sure,” Max said as he took the yellow sticky pad from Cyrus, “Where’d you-”
Cyrus cut him off when he rolled his eyes and gave him the dummy up sign. Max nodded his head, darted into the hospital lobby, and out of the front exit.
From the waiting room, Kelsey and Cyrus walked through the lobby, down a short hallway and into an up elevator. She punched the button for the fourth floor and said, “About that question you asked Max before I interrupted. Deidra Jones stopped visiting Dana six weeks to the day he was admitted.”
“How can you be so sure it was exactly six weeks?”
“It was the day the doctors had finished reviewing Dana’s full body MRI scan.”
“And?”
“They said he would be paralyzed for the rest of his life.”
“And they were wrong,” Cyrus said.
“Not entirely. Dana has recovered a lot more than the doctors ever imagined. But he is still paralyzed in his left leg. That poor Deidra. I really felt bad for her when she heard the news.”
“Why?”
“Every other day she would visit Dana, but he wouldn’t respond. He just stared at the ceiling, like he was in a melancholic trance. I suppose he was. She would cry and then leave. It must have been awful for her.”
Once they reached the fourth floor, they got the elevator and walked down the hall to the ICU lobby. Cyrus punched the button next to the door. He looked through the small window and saw there was no one at the desk. Kelsey reached into her pocket and then shrugged her shoulders.
“I must have left my badge in Dana’s room.”
Cyrus leaned back against the wall.
“How bad is Dana?”
“He’s got to stay in the hospital for at least another week; that’s what his doctor said.” She frowned at Cyrus, “Are you going to arrest Jeff Moon or Maverick Duncan with the murder of my brother?”
“No.”
“You mean all this investigation into Moon and Duncan and you end up with nothing?”
“I wouldn’t say that. Moon was doing his best to kill Dana, as well as half the state of California. I don’t consider arresting him, nothing.”
“You’re right, Cyrus. That was a stupid comment.”
“You’re upset is all. Don’t worry, I am very close to making an arrest.”
“Well, what about my father? I know he had something to do with this. Why else would he have kidnapped me?”
Cyrus stood up straight and held Kelsey by the shoulders. He looked down into her green eyes and said, “I am going to find your brother’s killer.”
Kelsey took Cyrus by the hand and said, “Thank-you Cyrus, you are good friend.”
The desk attendant opened the door. When Cyrus entered the hospital room, Dana was sitting up in his bed. He had an IV hanging from each arm and special harness around his shoulders. It was designed to keep pressure off of his broken ribs. He smiled at Cyrus and extended his hand, which Cyrus shook gently.
“Thanks for saving my life, again.” Cyrus said.
“No problem.”
Cyrus sat in the chair next to Dana’s bed.
“How are you feeling Dana? You look a lot better than when the Coast Guard loaded you onto that chopper. You had us all pretty worried.”
“I am a lot warmer, thanks. I am not in any pain except for these ribs. The doctor says I can’t move for at least another week.”
“That’s fortunate actually. Rudy was on his way over to put you back in prison. Of course I am not going back on my promise. I called your lawyer, Martinez, and told him I’d have a written statement for him detailing the reasons for you innocence. Briana will back me up. So you’re a free man no matter what.”
“Thanks to you, Cyrus. I knew you were a good man.”
Cyrus turned to Kelsey, “Is he on drugs?”
Kelsey nodded, “Yes, for the pain in his ribs. But that’s not the drugs talking.”
Cyrus nodded and then to Dana he said, “How long have you known Deidra Jones?”
“About six years, we were high school sweethearts.”
“Did she surf?” Cyrus asked.
Dana laughed, “What are you talking about? You interested in taking her surfing?”
Cyrus smiled, “I don’t want to get anywhere near the ocean after the last three days. No, Dana, I just wondered if she knew anything about surfing.”
“No, she watched, mostly. She hated surfing; it made her nervous whenever I was in a contest. She couldn’t understand why I wanted to put myself in danger of drowning on purpose.”
“That sounds reasonable to me,” Cyrus said.
“She could have surfed if she had the urge; she could swim like a fish. She was a good life guard.”
“She was a life guard?”
“Yeah, she’s very strong and she is almost as tall as I am, six foot one I think.”
“Yes, I noticed that too. Do the lifeguards use those really big surfboards?”
“Yeah, they are more like small boats. They don’t usually ride the waves with them; they’re more for rescuing people.”
“So why are you so interested in Deidra Jones, Cyrus?” Kelsey asked, “You can’t possibly suspect her of anything?”
Cyrus shook his head. He did not like lying to Kelsey, but he did not want to show his hand to anyone just yet. Besides, there was one problem in the theory he was working on that he hadn’t worked out yet, so he didn’t want to raise Kelsey’s hopes in case he was wrong.
“No, I am supposed to meet her tomorrow at lunch. She wants to ask me some questions about our adventure out there on the Diane Marie. I like to know as much as I can about a person before I meet with them.”
“Deidra Jones is fine person, Cyrus. Everyone knows her. She’s been to see Dana in jail twice since my brother’s death. She’s a Senior Editor at The Messenger and a good friend.”
Cyrus nodded. After saying a quick goodbye to Kelsey and Dana, he hurried out of the room and back down the hall the elevator. As he pushed the button that would take him back down to the hospital lobby, the memory of Deidra’s painting at Briana’s cottage came to his mind. The strange, abstract, semi-cubists portrait of a blonde woman with a long jaw and thin, blue slits of eyes reminded him of Deidra. She had the same general facial features and the painting was titled “My Scarred Heart”.
My scarred heart, Cyrus repeated to himself, she didn’t call it my broken heart; she called it my scarred heart-and that scar on her heart was exactly the same shape of Dana’s scar on his back.
As soon as he reached the hospital waiting room, he spotted Max playing with Mike Tanner’s laptop. “Come on, Max,” Cyrus said, “We have to get back to the station.”
Max sat down at his computer and turned it on, once they arrived at their office. Cyrus flopped down in his chair and opened up the bottom drawer. He pulled out the last bottle of Dasani water, opened it and took a big swallow.
“Deidra Jones is blonde. She’s egotistical and cold hearted.”
“The blonde part is pretty obvious. How do you know about the rest?”
“Deidra Jones was in on Moon’s effort to sabotage old man Tanner’s oil rig.”
“How’s that?”
“Moon told me she is going to write up an exclusive story glorifying their attempt to sabotage the oil rigs.”
“Why?”
“Moon thinks it’s because she believes in the cause. I got a different take.”
Max shut down the computer and sat up, “Let’s hear it,” he said.
“Deidra Jones murdered Mike Tanner.”
“Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that. Mike was using her to get to Dana. He probably set her up with a new job, promised to marry her, and bought her that nice ring she flaunts around.”
“How did she find out Mike was using her?”
“She was there at the beach that morning and overheard their conversation.”
“That’s not possible. She has an alibi, remember, she was at the house of that special effects guy.”
“Which happens to be less than a three minute walk to where Mike was murdered, besides, the special effects man wasn’t with her the whole time.”
“He’s got a wrought iron fence all the way around the place and cameras. I checked the video, no one went in or out until she left at ten am.”
“She did get out, I’m sure of it. She went around the beach side and hid herself near the edge of the cliff. She knew Mike and Dana were going to meet there. She must have overheard Mike taunt Dana about romancing her just to get back at him.”
“This is good theory, but no proof.”
“Get his laptop and check through his emails. He’s got to have something in there about her.”
While Max set up Mike’s laptop, Cyrus sat back in his desk chair and thought about the psychotic nature of Deidra’s painting. The twisted features and grotesque looking expression of the woman in the painting were repulsive. It was as if she was channeling all her rage into the canvass. That would have been normal if it were accompanied by a sense of remorse or even pathos. Everyone feels some anger from rejection. But Deidra’s painting wasn’t normal; it was stark and rigid, childlike. It was full of condescending judgment. Like the judgment that comes from someone with a tremendous ego. That seemed to fit the characteristics of the person he had spoken with less than an hour ago. Dana gets paralyzed for life and all she can think of is herself.
Then aloud he said to Max, “Kelsey told me she stopped seeing him the day the second set of MRIs came back. The day she was certain Dana would never recover. She was the one who ditched him, not the other way around. But she was clever enough to let him think that was the way it was, so she could hold it over him and stay in his life. She’s a lot cleverer than I realized.”
Max made no sign he was listening and remained focused on Mike’s laptop. The next moment he raised his head and turning to Cyrus he said, “Look at this Cyrus, it’s a draft email written by Mike. The subject is Deidra Jones’s dismissal. This is a very nasty letter. It’s written to his HR Director instructing her to disregard his previous email concerning the appointment of Deidra Jones to the editorial staff of The Messenger. It further instructs her to make sure she is escorted off The Messenger premises in the event she shows up.”
Cyrus got up from his desk and walked over to Max’s computer. “What’s the time on it?”
“It was saved at 8:15 AM,” Max replied.
“That’s the exact time the coroner estimated Tanner was killed,” Cyrus stood up and walked back to his desk and sat down.
“And it’s only a draft. Mike never got the chance to send it.”
“Deidra made sure of that.”
“I don’t understand. Diedra still loves Dana, so why would she frame him?”
Cyrus leaned over his desk, put his elbows on the top, and rested his head in his hands. “Deidra Jones stopped seeing Dana the day his MRI showed he was no longer going to be a superstar surf idol,” he said, “That’s why she stopped coming to see him.”
“Oh, now I see where you’re going. She quits Dana thinking he’s no longer worth the trouble and then he makes a miraculous comeback and gets engaged to the richest single girl in California.”
“Meanwhile she’s on unemployment, stripped of her former glory as a popular local columnist. Reduced to doing part time work for that special effects guy.”
“But why frame him for murder?”
“To get Kelsey to dump him. Then she could come to his rescue. She’s smart. She knew that Mike and Dana’s feud was public. She knew he’d be the first person we’d suspect. And she knew how Santa Barbara juries treat celebrity criminals.”
“So she was betting he’d get a light sentence and then she’d snap him up from Kelsey.”
“That’s right.”
Max looked up from his computer screen and said, “I still see two, no, three serious problems with your theory.”
“Go on,” Cyrus said as he got up from his chair.
“First, there’s still the alibi. She didn’t leave the special effect guy’s house. Secondly, Thad says Mike was killed sitting in an upright position with something supporting the back of his neck. So we can assume he was murdered in his car.”
Cyrus walked back over to Max’s desk and said, “So you’re wondering how could Deidra Jones have carried Mike’s body from the parking lot down a hundred feet of wooden stairs to the beach.”
“Exactly,” Max said. “Yeah, and don’t forget she had to put a wet suit on him as well. All in about five minutes.”
“She must have had help. Did you check that number I gave you back at the hospital?”
“Not yet. Where did you get it, anyway?”
“I got the number off of Deidra’s Blackberry. That number belongs to whomever it was she was talking to just before she left.”
As Max input the phone number into the search data base, Cyrus heard the quick gate of Bernie Frizell coming down the hallway.
“Hello Bernie,” Cyrus said, “you got any news on those fingerprints?”
“Ten years ago, we couldn’t have lifted half the fingerprints we lifted off that bat. That new technique the geeks out at Los Alamos developed really works well. Micro-X-ray fluorescence they call it, the detection of fingerprints based on elemental composition using micro-X-ray fluorescence. It looks psychedelic, don’t you think? The technique shows the salts, such as sodium chloride and potassium chloride, excreted in sweat present in detectable quantities in human fingerprints.”
Cyrus gave Bernie that glazed look he always gave him whenever he started talking forensics-ese. Bernie rolled his eyes, “Well anyway, it is a sixteen point match, good job Cyrus,” he said and then he turned to walk back down the hallway in the direction from which he came.
“Wait Bernie,” Cyrus said.
Bernie stopped in his tracks and turned around.
“Did you find out about the ring?”
Bernie cocked his head and stood silent for a moment or two. “Oh yeah, the ring Deidra Jones had on. You asked me to check on how much that diamond cost and who paid for it.”
“Did she get it at Vernon’s?”
“All seven point four carrots and she paid for it herself with a check.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred and two thousand, four hundred and fifty dollars, on sale too they said.”
“Max stopped typing and said, “How did an unemployed writer and part time artist get her hands on that kind of money?”
“Blackmail is one way,” Cyrus said, “Let’s go see the special effects man.”
“Right,” Max said as he got up.
“You coming, Bernie?”
“Sure Cyrus.”
When they got to Rincon Beach, it was late afternoon and the south side parking lot was half empty. The sun was still bright, but the Santa Ana winds had finally died down. Max parked the Charger in the same spot Mike had parked the morning he was killed.
“Lets go down to the beach on the north side and walk around to the back of the estate.”
“What are we looking for?” Bernie asked.
“We’re looking for a hole or weak spot in his fence where someone could crawl out,” Cyrus said as they walked at a near trot toward the stairs to the beach on the north side. After five minutes of trudging through the soft sand, they arrived at the rocky section of beach next to the backyard of the sound effects man beach home. Cyrus grabbed two of the bars of the wrought iron fence with each hand.
Letting go he said, “I didn’t set off any audible alarm. Max, call the dispatcher for 911 and see if they get a call from their security. And make sure they don’t respond to it if they did. Bernie come over here close to the fence.”
Bernie walked over beside Cyrus and stopped.
“See if you can squeeze through a space in the bars.
Bernie squeezed his torso through the bars, but got stuck. Cyrus and Max had to pull him free.
“It’s no good at this spot anyway,” Cyrus said, “It’s in plain view of the surveillance cameras. Let’s try over there, near the edge of the cliff.”
When they arrived at the cliff’s edge Max bent down and pulled up a beer bottle, “Somebody’s been partying here.”
“Let me see that,” Cyrus said. Max handed him the bottle. He looked over the label and tried to remember where he’d seen it before. “This is a very rare bottle of beer.”
“How’s that?” Max said.
“It’s Imperial Russian stout. Grigoryan drinks this stuff. He told me himself there are only a few bottles of it left. Seems the brewery went out of business in the nineties.”
“What was he doing here?”
“Waiting for Deidra Jones so he could help her kill Mike Tanner. Bernie, let’s try to find a spot you can squeeze through.”
“Cyrus, wait. That number you asked me to check on; it was Grigoryan’s number.”
Cyrus nodded his head and then said, “They must have had it planned for a while. He was here waiting for her that morning. Had a couple of beers to settle his nerves.”
“Cyrus, look at this,” Bernie said. He was standing on the other side of the fence.
“The bars are bent,” Max said.
“There’s only one suspect on my list who has the strength to do that, Peter Grigoryan. So are you happy now, Max?”
“Not quite, there’s still one problem.”
“The scar, right?”
“Yea, Briana seemed pretty adamant about having seen that j-shaped scar.”
“Remember the tape we found in Mike’s Cooper?”
“Sure, what of it?”
“That’s what they used to make the j-shaped scar. They took a piece of string or something and taped it on his back. From thirty feet away anyone could mistake it for a scar. Especially someone like Briana who’s trained to look for distinguishing characteristics.”
“None of this is proof, Cyrus,” Max said.
“I know-it’s all circumstantial. But the evidence I get tomorrow when I meet Deidra won’t be, I promise you.”