Baca - Page 18

A small, crying figure wearing a black turtleneck sweater and black stretch pants, black tennis shoes and a black watch cap came scooting out of the dark. The watch cap hung on a clothes hanger and jerked off the figure’s head, revealing blond, spikey hair that must have been styled with a rake.

Mickey ran to me and buried her face in my chest before I could remove my windbreaker. She cried and sobbed and sniffled for five minutes before raising her head and smiling through clown makeup. “I’m so glad to see you two. I was sooo scared.”

I glanced at my Patagonia and figured I might have to burn it this time. I said, “What are you doing here?”

She sniffled and we moved her from the bedroom to the living room. I watched Hondo check her shoes as she walked and he shook his head to tell me there wasn’t any blood on them. We sat at a glass table with tubular brass chairs around it and Mickey told us what she’d seen.

**

“I was sleuthing the area last night, wanting to eyeball what Valdar was working on, see if he had any dames or bimbos casing the joint, when I saw him slip the house and go for a walk down the beach. I didn’t have a roscoe, so I was being careful. When he was far enough away I used my bins and scoped the pad for perps, then sleuthed in through the door and began detecting.”

I said, “Mickey, please use regular words. I only got a D in Private Eye Talk one-oh-one.”

“Oh all right. But you should have studied more.” She took a breath and continued, “I looked at his paintings and things, then saw the photo attached to the canvas on the easel. It was the place we were yesterday, above where the Mexican women had been sitting by the fire.

“Well, that got me interested and I sleuthed, uh, looked around some more and was in his bedroom when I heard Valdar in the living room. I didn’t know what to do so I got in the closet and closed the doors. I hid behind the clothes and listened for what seemed like hours. It had been quiet for a while and I thought that maybe he was gone, so I stepped out. I was almost to the door when I heard the patio door slide open and Valdar said, ‘What are you doing here?’” Mickey wiped her hands on her thighs as she recalled the events. “I hopped back into the closet and could hear muffled voices, several of them, and they all sounded angry, even Valdar’s. Then I heard a yell and some running and everyone was in the bedroom and there was the sound of hitting and fighting and a couple of times I heard a voice yell out in pain.”

She began to tear up and I told her, “It’s over now. You’re just being a good detective and giving us the facts.”

She nodded, “It went on for a while and finally there was a thump and some gasps and then quiet. Someone out there said something in a language I didn’t know, then I heard some grunts and steps leaving, and I heard them take the computer because they banged it against the wall when they moved it. But they all didn’t go. A couple of them stayed in the house. I could hear them turning on the television and doing things in the kitchen, and one of them came in here and lay on the bed. He went to sleep because I could hear him snoring.”

“So you were here all night.”

“Yes.”

“What time did they leave this morning?”

“I don’t know the time, but it was maybe three hours before you two got here.” She shook her head, “I wasn’t going to leave that closet for anything. Some people came back about two hours later and they all talked in the living room, then moved in the bedroom and talked some more before they left. They haven’t been gone more than fifteen minutes or so.”

Hondo said, “Did it sound like they were looking for something? Could you hear anything like that?”

“Yes, like I said, the first ones banged everything around and took the computer. The men in the second group that came this morning were different. They opened drawers and things, but were very careful. I could hear them close things back, put stuff back in place.”

“They didn’t check the closet?”

“Oh yes. I was behind some long Armani jackets and held my breath when they opened the door. I just knew they would find me, but they only moved a few clothes and looked on the top shelf, where they took a box of some kind, and closed the door.”

“Do you know what type of box?”

“I think it was a shoe box, but I’m not sure. The clothes moved when the guy took it down and I caught a glimpse of his hand and part of the box.”

“Did the hand have any tattoos, any rings?”

“No, it was brown looking, like maybe a medium skinned Hispanic or somebody from the Mediterranean, that kind of brown. There weren’t any rings or tattoos that I remember.”

“Could you guess how tall he was?”

“Over six feet, I know that, because he blocked out a lot of the closet light.”

Hondo said, “Why don’t we leave, stop at a payphone and make the call to the police. I think whoever did this got what they wanted.”

Mickey squirmed, “Okay, but first I have to pee. I’ve been holding it all night.” She hurried into the bathroom, holding herself all the way. While she was gone, I went to the easel, took the photo of Landman, and put it inside my shirt.

We left after checking to see that it was clear. We drove Mickey to her car, dropped her off and told her to go home and stay there, then we drove until we found a payphone and I called the police. I used a Spanish accent and told them I wouldn’t give my name because I was an illegal.

We returned to the office and Hondo ground the last of the Jamaican Blue Mountain and made coffee. We poured our cups and sat at the desks, sipping and thinking. I debated telling Bond about the blood, but decided if I wasn’t going to tell the police, I wouldn’t tell her.

Hondo had the photo I’d taken and was studying it. “We need to take this, get it blown up.”

Tags: Billy Kring Mystery
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