Dial Emmy For Murder - Part 24
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Part 24

The man saw us coming and stopped at the car with his hand on the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Jakes showed his ID. "Detective Jakes," he said. "This is my a.s.sociate, Ms. Morgan. What's your name, sir?"

"Russell, Tim Russell. What's this about, Detective?"

"Actually," Jakes said, "I was looking for your wife, Adrienne."

"What did that crazy b.i.t.c.h do now?" the man demanded.

Jakes and I exchanged a glance.

"Look, we're divorced, have been for years," Russell said.

"What about Nate?" Jakes asked. "Is he around?"

"He doesn't live here, either," Russell said. "He moved out when she did."

"She got custody?"

"What custody?" the man asked. "He was twenty at the time."

"I don't understand."

"I never did, either," Russell said. "Those two were always close, you know? It was like they had a private club that I wasn't allowed to join."

A question sprang to mind, but I didn't ask it. I was supposed to let Jakes do the talking.

"Did she leave?" Jakes asked. "Or did you kick her out?"

"A little bit of both."

"And did you kick him out, too?"

"I told you," he said, "Nate was her little angel. He went where she went. As far as he's concerned she's a world-cla.s.s stage mom."

"Mr. Russell, I'm going to ask you a question, and I don't want you to take a swing at me," Jakes said. "If you do I'll have to arrest you."

"Were they having s.e.x?" Russell said. "Detective, I think they did everything together-but not that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"When you see my wife, you'll understand," he said. "She never was a very s.e.xual person. And as for Nate-well, he's gay."

Russell was helpful after that. He gave us Adrienne Russell's home address and told us where Nate worked. He said if his wife got a job after she moved out, he didn't know about it.

We got in our car and moved on.

"I thought about the incest question," I said as Jakes drove, "and then you asked it."

"Great minds . . . ," Jakes said.

"Did you believe everything he said?" I asked.

"Yeah. Did you?"

"Yes, I did," I said. "I also admired his restraint."

"Meaning?"

"Most men would have bad-mouthed the wife a little more," I said. "Maybe even the kid. He seems . . . resigned to it."

"He's moved on," Jakes said. "We better do the same."

Jakes wanted to talk to the kid first and then the mother. We drove to where he worked. The Cave was a sleazy dive where Nate tended bar. And they weren't kidding about the name. It was so dark I b.u.mped into a barstool soon after walking in. When my eyes adjusted to the "light," I saw it was the kind of place that makes you want to wash your hands as soon as you enter, and every other minute thereafter.

"Yeah, the kid works here, but he ain't been around for a few days."

"Did he have those days off?"

Nate Russell's boss mopped his bald head with a rag he pulled from his back pocket. I had a sick and disgusting feeling he used that same rag to dry his bar gla.s.ses.

"Naw, no days off," he said. "He was supposed to be workin', but guess what?"

"What?" Jakes asked.

"He can have all the days off he wants from now on," the man said. "He's freakin' history. And good riddance! Like I need a mama's boy pouring beers and shots."

"What do you mean, mama's boy?"

"His loony mother. Coming in here on his late nights yelling at me that her boy needed his sleep cuz he had to 'audition' in the morning. Pansy-a.s.s kid. Good riddance!"

Jakes and I looked at each other.

"You got an address for him?" Jakes asked.

"Sure, hold on."

As the man went off to get the address, I said, "I thought he lived with his mother?"

"This way," Jakes said, "we double-check."

Chapter 45.

We headed for Adrienne Russell's home, hoping we'd find her son, Nate, there, too.

"If he's not home and not at work, will that make him a suspect?" I asked.

"He's a suspect already, in my book," Jakes said.

"And the mother?"

"I've seen some weird relationships in my time," he said. "Women who have maintained control over their children no matter what age they are. And boys, in particular."

At that moment I was very glad I was the mother of a girl.

"So you think she's been directing him to murder these young men?" I asked.

"No, I don't believe it," he said. "But it's a theory."

"That's a horrible thought," I said. "I mean, they'd both have to be so . . . amoral."

"Believe me, it's very possible."

"So that would make it Nate who tried to force me off the road?"

He risked a quick look at me and then turned back to the traffic he was negotiating us through. "Would you rather it be him and not Randy?" he asked.

"Well, of course," I said. "For my daughter's sake I hope her father didn't try to kill me. Have you located him yet?"

"He's in the country," he said, "but I don't know yet if he's actually in LA."

"If he is, can you arrest him?"

"For forcing you off the road? Not unless we can prove it."

"What about for stealing my money? I mean, he cleaned me out, Jakes."

He thought a moment and then asked, "Was it a joint bank account?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we were married-"

"So either one of you could write checks, make deposits, make withdrawals?"

I felt my shoulders slump. This was the same song and dance I'd gone through with the police when it happened.

"I know, I know," I said. "It was his money as much as mine."

"You should've kept your own account, Alex-"

"I know!" I snapped. "Like he did, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"He had his own bank account?"

"He sure did. He was squirreling money away every week and I knew nothing about it."

"What did he do for a living?"

"He was an investment banker."

"Successful?"

"Not as much as he would have liked. He had a few big clients, and he cleaned them all out, too, when he disappeared."

"And he still stole from you?" He shook his head. "What a piece of work."

"Yep, that's Randy," I said. "A piece of work."

"Unfortunately," Jakes said, "embezzling from his wife is not something we can arrest him for."

I felt the old anger coming back. When Randy had left three years ago, I could've killed him when I realized what he had done not only to me, but to his daughter. Of course, I realized I couldn't hurt my daughter's father. I knew I'd have to turn that anger into something positive, so I chose to concentrate on both my work and my daughter.

"I hope the driver wasn't Randy," I said, "but I also hope Randy gets what's coming to him."

There are houses in North Hollywood that have been around since the early twentieth century. Back then there was a housing boom to accommodate all the craftsmen and -women who were hired to work on the movies as set builders, crew members, hair and makeup people, set designers, et cetera, once the movie business got rolling in the twenties. Adrienne Russell lived in one of those old Spanish houses, the arched doorway covered with bright red bougainvil lea and a neat brick walkway leading up to the front porch.

Jakes pulled up and cut the engine. "Same deal," he said. "I do the talking."

"I remember."

We got out and walked to the front door. Jakes rang the bell and we waited for someone to answer. I was wearing gla.s.ses and a little cotton in my nose to broaden it. The cotton would also serve to make my voice sound nasal. I didn't wear the phony teeth this time, in case somebody offered us cake. I also had a dark wig.

"How much of your life has been spent doing this?" I asked.

"Standing on someone's porch, waiting for them to answer the door? A lot. And then we never know what's going to be on the other side. Lots of times someone opens the door, takes one look at our faces or our IDs and starts running. And most of the time, they haven't even done anything."

"Then why do they run?"

"Because everybody feels guilty about something."

We heard the lock in the door turn and it started to open. I thought I was prepared for anything, but I wasn't quite prepared for Adrienne Russell.

Chapter 46.

Adrienne Russell looked just like Mrs. b.u.t.terworth, from the syrup bottle. She had gray hair neatly wrapped up on top of her head in a bun, a pudgy face punctuated with soft, rosy cheeks and a plump body that was even sporting a floral ap.r.o.n! People had said she was crazy. But to me she looked anything but. I could see, however, why her ex-husband said she was not very s.e.xual.