Into the Dark

56

Commerce and Alhambra, California

Joe Tanner studied the files on his desk.

Since yesterday a puzzling ping of recognition had been sounding in his brain but he didn’t know why. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d been searching reports, exhibits, handwritten notes, photos, records and statements from the five cold cases and the new one for Amber Pratt.

For much of the morning the task force had been following tips from the news conference. But Tanner was dogged by a persistent niggling in the back of his mind since meeting Robert Bowen.

The reason eluded him.

“Why is Bowen familiar to me? The answer’s got to be in here.”

“I told you,” Zurn said, setting down a clipping from the Los Angeles Times. “Look at the headlines. Robert Bowen is the hero pilot who rescued a mother and her baby from their burning car.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“That’s it, Joe. You’re overthinking this. Now get moving on some of these new tips. We may find a lead there.”

Tanner couldn’t shift his focus. He continued scanning the documents, until he heard his name shouted by a detective across the office.

“Hey, Joe, call coming for you!”

Tanner grabbed his line.

“Joe, this is Belinski in Alhambra. The LAPD just picked up Eric Larch. We’re setting up to let you talk to him.”

“You find anything about the girl?”

“Nothing. How soon can you get here?”

“On our way.” Tanner hung up and pulled on his jacket. “Let’s go Harvey, Alhambra’s got our suspect.”

Some twenty-five minutes later Tanner and Zurn were in Alhambra police headquarters standing on the dark side of the one-way glass looking into the Alhambra Police Department’s interview room. It had dull white walls, an acoustic-tiled ceiling, fluorescent lighting, a plain table with two empty hard-back chairs on one side.

Eric Larch was alone in a chair at the table, facing the one-way glass with his arms folded over his chest-the embodiment of anger.

Is this the Dark Wind Killer?

Since his arrest by the LAPD, he’d been transferred to Alhambra where he’d been jailed in a holding cell while awaiting a court appearance for violation of his bail and the protection order.

“What do you think, Joe?” Ed Belinski stood next to him and Zurn.

Without taking his attention from Larch, Tanner tapped his file folders against his leg. He had studied Larch’s history and was concerned with several aspects.

Throughout his life Larch was obsessed with true-crime shows and had aspirations of being more than what he was, “being famous for something,” “being a somebody with power,” according to psych reports filed with the court after he’d assaulted Amber.

He was an expert at bypassing security and surveillance systems.

He’d lived in cities tied to two of the five murdered women at the time they were killed.

All of these points raised red flags for Tanner.

“So what do you think?” Belinski repeated, eager to help the task force. “He looks pretty good for Amber Pratt and your cold cases.”

“That’s what we’re here to find out.”

Tanner and Zurn entered the interview room. Larch’s head snapped up.

“Eric, I’m Detective Joe Tanner, this is my partner, Harvey Zurn. We’re with L.A. County and we’d like to talk with you.”

Chairs scraped as they seated themselves.

Tanner pulled a photocopied document from the file and slid it to Larch.

“Before we can help you, we need to confirm that you’ve been read your rights and that this is your signature confirming that you waived your right to a lawyer.”

Larch glanced at it.

“Yeah, my lawyer’s useless. I got nothing to do with all this bullshit on the news about Amber missing. Christ! She told me on the phone that she wanted to talk about getting back together, so I came down here to see her, to work things out. I told Belinski I wish to hell I knew where she was!”

“Don’t lie to us, Eric. You know what this is about. You violated the order and your bail conditions. Your brother stands to lose the money he put up for you.”

“He knows I’ll pay him back.”

“Where’s Amber?”

Larch tightened his arms over his chest. His right leg started bouncing.

“Eric.” Tanner exhaled. “You’ve been down here for two days. What were you doing? You couldn’t miss the news reports of Amber’s disappearance. Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” Eric shook his head. “That’s what I want you to tell me.”

“What were your activities here for the last two days?” Tanner asked.

“When she called me and said she wanted to talk, I came down here.”

“We got that, asshole,” Zurn said. “What were you doing in L.A. for two days?”

“She wasn’t home when I rang the bell. I couldn’t find her. Then I saw on the news that she was missing and I freaked out. I was already messed up, you know, trying to fix things with her. I didn’t know what to think.”

“So what did you do?” Tanner said.

“All of a sudden I got real scared. I thought maybe this was some sort of elaborate trap to nail me, put me back in jail, you know, something cooked up with her shrink and that bitch cop that arrested me. So I pretty much kept a low profile.”

“Were you not concerned for your wife, seeing how she vanished?” Tanner said.

“Yes, absolutely. But I was screwed up, I couldn’t think straight. We were going through what we’re going through, then she goes missing. I was freaking right out, and between driving around looking for Amber by her house, her job, her shrink’s office and our old place in Long Beach, I stayed in my motel room and got drunk.”

Zurn’s jaw muscles began pulsating as he eyeballed Larch.

“You’re a three-coil piece of shit. You know that, don’t you?” Zurn said.

“The court ordered you to stay away from Amber,” Tanner said. “Why did you violate the order?”

“I’m still her husband. She’s confused by lawyers, by judges, by her shrink. All this crap. I’m doing my part. I’m taking counseling.”

“It’s not working out so well. Is it, all-star?” Zurn’s gaze burned into Larch. “Seeing how you attacked Amber and her shrink on the street. You disgust me.”

Larch glared at Zurn. “This good cop, bad cop?”

“Why did you violate the order, Eric?” Tanner asked.

“Amber told me she wants to reconcile. She called me and I drove down here to talk to her. Where is she?”

Tanner opened a folder and showed Larch a colored photograph of a reddish smear on the tailgate of Larch’s Jeep. “You know what that is?”

Larch studied the photo.

“That’s blood, my blood.”

Larch held up his right fist, displaying scraped knuckles.

“I banged up my hand fixing a loose battery cable. What’s going on?”

“Not long ago there was a burglary at your wife’s therapist’s office in San Marino. Someone defeated the security system and attempted to look through confidential files. You’re an expert at security systems, aren’t you? And you’re familiar with that office. You were arrested there.”

“What the hell is this?”

“Tell us where Amber is, Eric. Cooperate so we can help you.”

Larch said nothing.

“Eric, we know you wrote to her, we know you called her and left a threatening message on her machine the night she was last seen. We know you drove to Alhambra. Your credit card was used to buy gas there. We found blood in her residence and blood on your Jeep.”

Larch said nothing.

For the next thirty minutes Tanner hammered Larch with the same questions before he changed the subject and placed a photo of a pretty smiling woman before him.

“Ever meet Esther Fatima Lopez, Eric?”

He looked at her face and shook his head.

“Her body was found in Topanga in 2004, the same year you lived there.”

Tanner let the minutes pass by before he set another picture of another woman before Larch.

“You also lived in Temple City, in 2007-” Tanner tapped the photo “-that’s the same year Bonnie Bradford lived there. Her home had a security system that was expertly disarmed.”

“What’s this got to do with me?” Larch asked.

“Both of these women were murdered by the same killer.”

“Why are you telling me this? You think I killed somebody? You’re fucking crazy.”

“You have a serious interest in true-crime cases-legendary murder cases like Jack the Ripper, Son of Sam, the Zodiac Killer, Green River, Ted Bundy, that sort of thing?”

“So do millions of other people, so what?”

“According to a psychiatric assessment filed with the court after you smashed your fist into Amber’s face a few times, didn’t you say you fantasized about being famous, about having power over people, especially ‘bitches who didn’t know their place’? Isn’t that right, Eric?” Tanner tapped the files.

Larch blinked like a man who didn’t trust the ground under his feet as Tanner placed photocopies of newspaper articles about the Dark Wind Killer in front of him.

“What’s this? What do you guys want?”

“We want you to tell us where Amber is, Eric,” Tanner said.

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“Maybe you argued with her?” Zurn said. “Slapped the bitch around, to help her understand that she belonged to you?”

“You’re very possessive of her,” Tanner said. “In one of her complaints she said you told her that you ‘owned her.’ Are you familiar with the phrase, ‘she’s mine now’?”

Larch shook his head.

“You were trying to pound sense into her, weren’t you?” Zurn said.

“But she refused to listen to reason,” Tanner said. “Maybe things got out of hand? Maybe you went a little too far because you loved her a little too much. You didn’t mean to hurt her. You didn’t mean for this to happen. Things got out of control. Maybe she came at you?”

“Did she come at you?” Zurn asked.

Larch shook his head.

Tanner stood and leaned into Larch’s space.

“Just like with the others, right, Eric? You tried to make them understand but things went too far. It’s something inside you that you can’t control, a pressure, a force or sickness that just takes over and makes you do these things. You’re a slave to it, a victim, too, but part of you likes it, likes the power. Then you feel bad, you didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Tanner said. “Eric, you don’t have to live the lie any longer, you don’t have to carry it around alone. Tell us about it. Unburden yourself. Let us get you the help you need.”

Larch swallowed.

“We know you had your truck serviced in Sacramento a few days ago. We checked the odometer and did the calculations. You’ve done a lot of driving since you returned to L.A. Have you been up to Camarillo, Eric?”

“No, I never went there.”

Tanner didn’t answer. He sat down, letting silence mix with the tension, waiting before proceeding.

“You know, at this moment,” Tanner said, “we’re executing warrants on your Jeep, on your motel room, on your apartment in Long Beach, your brother’s home in Sacramento and his office.”

Larch looked at him.

“That’s right. Sooner or later we’ll get to the truth.”

“I got nothing to hide.”

“We’re going to find out, but it would be better if you cooperated now.”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

Tanner slid a pad and pen to Larch then went to a file for a page with printed text.

“Would you copy these sentences, print them in block letters for us?”

Larch’s face whitened as he stared at the passage of text.

THANK YOU FOR THE RECENT INTEREST IN MY WORK. IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME AND I WAS BEGINNING TO THINK THAT THE BRILLIANT MINDS OF L.A. LAW ENFORCEMENT WOULD NEVER APPRECIATE THE MEANING OF THE BEAUTFUL GIFT I’D LEFT THEM.

“What’s this? I don’t know if I should do this,” Larch said.

“Thought you said you got nothing to hide. Was that a lie?” Zurn asked.

“No.”

“Then do it.”

Larch picked up the pen, turned it over several times, then carefully started printing the sentences in block letters.