Full Black

CHAPTER 38

Like most in the Special Operations community, retired or otherwise, Hank McBride was incredibly resourceful. He had managed to track down everything on Luke Ralston’s list. With Southern California the home to SEAL Teams 1, 3, 5, and 7 under Naval Special Warfare Group One, Hank had probably done it with one phone call, two at the most.

The motorcycle was a red 2007 Yamaha YZF. It was a bit much for Ralston’s taste, but no one gave flashy street bikes a second look in Southern Cal. It was fast and maneuverable, which was what he had asked for. If he needed to weave through traffic or outrun the police, the Yamaha would do the job perfectly. Using a motorcycle also meant that he could wear a full-face helmet and be able to better conceal his identity.

The pistol was a cold “drop piece” that one of Hank’s buddies always took with him when he drove down to Mexico. It was a Colt Anaconda with a four-inch barrel, chambered in. 44 Magnum. Ralston hadn’t expected a revolver, especially from a SEAL, but he was happy to have a firearm, any kind of firearm, and he tucked it into the backpack Hank had given him, along with the other items.

It had been a big gamble meeting Alisa in Manhattan Beach the day before. It was an even bigger gamble traveling up to L.A. now. Broad daylight was not the environment Ralston wanted to operate in, but he’d been given no choice.

Alisa’s father had refused to help her unless she told him who the favor was for. She was asking for a very dangerous introduction-one incongruous with the legal dealings of an entertainment attorney. He’d already lost one daughter because he wasn’t able to protect her from violent criminal elements. He’d be damned if he was going to lose another.

With no choice, Alisa had filled her father in on the entire meeting she’d had with Ralston. Martin Sevan wasn’t happy. He told her he’d have to think about the favor Ralston wanted the Sevan family to do for him.

Two hours later, Martin called Alisa back and told her to have Ralston come and see him the next day at noon. Ralston had no idea if the man was going to help him or not, but the fact that he had asked him to come to the house and not the office was a good sign, and Ralston had decided to go prepared.

He arrived two hours early. After driving by the front of the house and not seeing anything that gave him cause for concern, he found a place to park his bike and then secreted himself in a ravine along the side of the house. He had a perfect vantage point from which to surveil Martin’s property as well as that of his immediate neighbors.

Ralston didn’t know how much animosity, if any, Ava’s father harbored toward him over her death. For all he knew, the man despised him and was planning to set him up and hand him over to the police. He had to accept that as a possibility. He could very well be walking into a trap. From his vantage point, though, the only people he had seen in or near the house were the gardener and the housekeeper, both of whom he had met before. That was it.

At a quarter to twelve, a black Aston Martin Rapide pulled into the driveway and stopped near the entrance to the house. Ralston watched as Martin Sevan exited the vehicle, retrieved his briefcase from the backseat, and walked inside. His movements were calm and unhurried. He didn’t glance around furtively as if trying to pick out nearby police spotters who might be poorly hidden and who could give the entire sting away. He looked like any businessman who might have come home for lunch. So far, so good, thought Ralston.

He decided to remain in the ravine a little while longer. Five minutes later, a white Acura pulled into the driveway and parked right behind Martin’s Aston Martin.

From behind the wheel, a heavyset, middle-aged man wearing a dark suit climbed out of the car. Unlike Sevan, this man was a bundle of nervous energy. He was visibly uncomfortable. He took a long, slow glance around his immediate area before turning toward the house. Walking up to the front door, he depressed the button for the bell and waited to be admitted. Ralston didn’t know what to make of the man. He was definitely jumpy about something.

At five minutes after twelve, having seen no further activity, Ralston decided he needed to make a decision. Actually, he needed to make a move. The decision had already been made. He hadn’t come all this way just to turn around and leave. He had no idea who the second man in the house was, but he assumed he would soon find out. With no police surveillance that he could detect, he had no choice but to make his way inside.

He looped around the back of the house. Skirting the swimming pool, he found the patio doors unlocked. Martin Sevan and the man in the dark suit were sitting in Sevan’s home office waiting for him.

“Hello, Marty,” Ralston said as he stepped into the room.

Sevan was in his late fifties. He was short, but powerfully built. His black hair was slicked back and he had the same penetrating green eyes as his daughters. He had removed his suit coat and his shirtsleeves were rolled halfway up his thick forearms. It was the first time the two men had seen each other since the trial. “Hello, Luke,” Sevan responded. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been better,” he replied, knowing that lawyers never asked a question they didn’t know the answer to.

Sevan didn’t bother responding. Instead, he introduced the man in the dark suit. “Luke, I’d like you to meet Aleksey Lavrov. Aleksey, this is Luke.”

Ralston shook the man’s hand and Sevan invited them to sit. “Anybody need a drink?” he asked as he poured himself one.

“Yes, please,” said Lavrov. His English was heavily accented. The collar of his shirt was too tight and fleshy rolls of fat spilled over the top. Despite having put on a suit, presumably for the meeting, he hadn’t managed to get the knot of his tie all the way up and his top button showed by about a half-inch. He was sweating and his narrow eyes purposefully avoided Ralston’s gaze.

“Luke?” Sevan asked. “Something for you?”

“No thanks, Marty.”

Sevan poured a drink for himself and one for Lavrov and then took a seat behind his large desk while the other two men sat in upholstered chairs on the other side facing him. “So?” he said, drawing the word out.

Ralston remained quiet. This was Marty’s show and he was going to run it any way he saw fit. Ralston just hoped that having Lavrov present meant that he had the information he needed.

“I made a couple of phone calls on your behalf, Luke,” Sevan stated. “The LAPD are very interested in speaking with you.”

“We’ll get around to talking sooner or later.”

“I’m sure you will. What about Mr. Salomon?”

“What about him?” asked Ralston.

“Is he okay? Unharmed?”

“He’s a little shaken up, as you might imagine, but he’s doing okay, all things considered. Why?”

Sevan pursed his lower lip as he shook his head. “Just making sure, that’s all.”

“I told Alisa he was okay.”

“She told me you did.”

“So why are you asking?”

“Because, Luke, I’m a litigator. A big part of what I do is reading people. I wanted to hear you say it. Or more important, see you say it.”

Ralston didn’t like being put under the microscope, but it was he who had come asking for the favor, so he bit his tongue. “Larry Salomon is alive and well.”

“You know one of the theories that the LAPD detectives are pursuing is that you kidnapped Salomon,” stated Sevan.

“Well, that’s a pretty stupid theory.”

“Is it?”

“For crying out loud, Marty. If I was going to kidnap Larry Salomon, I would have been a lot more creative and wouldn’t have left calling cards with my name on them all over his house and property,” replied Ralston.

“Reasonable or not, it’s one of their theories. They definitely have you pegged as the person who did all of the killing.”

“All the killing? Two of Larry Salomon’s associates were already dead when I entered the house. If I hadn’t done what I had, Larry would have been killed as well.”

Sevan put up his hands and with a wry smile said, “Don’t shoot. I’m just the messenger.”

Ralston wondered if he was being played with and decided to get to the point. “Alisa tells me you can help.”

“Interesting. All I told her was that you shouldn’t have asked her for that kind of favor. I explained that if you wanted something like that, you’d have to come to me.”

Sevan was playing with him. “Well, here I am, Marty. You didn’t need me to come all the way up here, especially with the police and God knows who else looking for me. You could have told Alisa to tell me to go to hell. But you didn’t. You wanted me to come see you. Therefore, I can only assume you wanted to tell me to go to hell in person, or you want to help me. Which one is it? Are you going to help me?”

“Let me ask you a question instead,” replied the attorney. “What would you have done if you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that those two scumbag drug dealers were the ones in the alley that night. What if you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they had been the ones who had killed Ava. Would you have testified then?”

“No.”

Sevan arched his eyebrows. “No? Why not?”

“If I could have positively identified the people in that alley, they never would have made it to trial. I would have killed them both myself,” said Ralston.

The attorney smiled at the man in the dark suit, Lavrov, as if to say, Be careful with me, I know dangerous people. He then turned his focus back to Ralston. “You still sound very passionate. Almost genuine.”

“Fuck you, Marty. I didn’t come here to take your crap. If you want to hold me responsible for what happened to Ava, if you want to blame me-after all you know I tried to do for her-then at least have the guts to say so. But don’t you dare impugn my integrity and question how I felt about her and still feel about the people who did that to her. Don’t you fucking do that.”

Sevan sat quietly, as did Lavrov, who was being made very uncomfortable by what he was hearing. Finally, Sevan said, “What if I told you, you were right?”

“Right about what?”

“Right about the men in the alley that night. What if I told you that I had tracked down the men responsible for murdering Ava?”

“I’d say you’re lying.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because,” replied Ralston, “if you’d found them, you’d have already turned them in to the police.”

Sevan opened the drawer in front of him and removed an envelope. Slowly, he slid it halfway across the desk.

“What’s this?”

“The names and addresses of the two men who murdered Ava.”

Ralston looked at him. “And you’ve just been sitting on this information?”

“Let’s say I’ve been trying to decide what the right thing is to do with it.”

Was Sevan nuts? Talking about taking out Ava’s killers in front of Lavrov?

The attorney seemed to be reading his mind. “Mr. Lavrov is trustworthy. Don’t worry about him.”

“You don’t want this on your conscience, Marty. Give whatever you have to the police.”

“Even if it means Ava’s killers only get life in prison, or worse, walk free?”

“Marty, you’re an attorney, for God’s sake. You’d throw that all out the window for revenge? All of this?” Ralston asked, looking around the luxuriously appointed office. “Your family already lost Ava; they couldn’t stand to lose you, too. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Marty. Whoever’s names are in that envelope, give them to the cops. You may hate my guts, but one day you’ll thank me. Sometimes, revenge is a dish that’s better never served.”

Sevan looked at Lavrov. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“Told him what?” said Ralston.

Sevan shoved the envelope the rest of the way across the desk so that it came to rest in front of Ralston. “Open it.”

Ralston was tempted, but at the same time he knew that if he read what was inside that envelope and those people ended up dead, he’d be one of the prime suspects. Having Lavrov witness the entire thing just gave him a bad feeling. “Not interested.”

Sevan’s eyebrows arched again. “I think you should open it.”

Ralston leaned back in his chair. His body language was answer enough.

The attorney looked at Lavrov and said, “You open it.”

Lavrov glanced at Ralston and then leaned forward and timidly retrieved the envelope.

The man’s fat fingers approached the flap of the envelope as if he were handling the repository of some historic document.

“Hurry up, already,” Sevan prodded.

Lavrov did as he was told. He removed a single, folded sheet of paper. Setting the envelope on the desk, he unfolded the page and turned it around so Ralston could see.