In Dark Places

Chapter Thirty

Wolper sat with Robin Cameron while reports came in from West LA. Unit 8-Adam-43 had been joined by a secondary unit, A-41. The condo had been secured as a crime scene. Neighbors were being interviewed.

At some point, the Rampart patrol sergeant who'd arrived at the office informed Wolper that Deputy Chief Hammond was taking command of the investigation. Wolper greeted this news with raised eyebrows. He and the sergeant both knew it was unusual for an administratora pogueto get directly involved in a high-profile, high-risk case. "He must have his reasons," the sergeant said.

Wolper nodded. "That he must."

It was after five o'clock when Hammond made his appearance. He strode into the waiting room, surrounded by Rampart Division patrol officers and his own entourage of driver, adjutant, and press-relations flack. The flack was actually a traffic officer who had been reassigned to Hammond's office by some bureaucratic ruse that Wolper didn't comprehend. The D-chief was a one-man media event. Every time he announced some piddling change of policy or addressed a meeting of the Kiwanis club, the local media knew about it.

Wolper stepped into the room with an extended hand. "Chief."

Hammond ignored the hand. He eyed Wolper's civilian clothes. "Out of uniform, Lieutenant?"

"Off duty, sir."

"And a few miles outside Newton Area," Hammond observed. "Any particular reason you should be here?"

"I know the victim."

"Personal friend?"

"Personal acquaintance."

"She's unhurt, I take it."

"So she tells me."

"You have doubts?"

"I think she got bonked on the head a little harder than she's letting on."

"Then she should be in a hospital. We can't have this woman keeling over when she's in our care. That's not the kind of thing that looks good."

Hammond knew all about looking good, as did the PR flack, who was nodding vigorously.

"I don't think she's in any danger of keeling over," Wolper said. "Anyway, we have bigger issues to deal with. You've heard about her daughter?"

"I've heard, but I don't understand how the hell it happened. As soon as Gray's escape from custody was reported, there should have been a squad car at Cameron's home address."

"She called her daughter immediately and told her to leave the premises."

"Apparently that wasn't good enough," Hammond's adjutant, Lewinsky, put in with a shit-eating smile.

Wolper knew and heartily disliked Lewinsky, a drone whose sycophantic personality and regrettably topical name had given rise to a variety of suck-up jokes. He said nothing.

Hammond shook his head. "What a goddamned mess. How did Gray even know about the girl?"

"As I understand it," Wolper said, "he met her once."

"Met her? What is this woman running, a tea party for felons?"

"Sir, if you could keep your voice down amp; She's in the next room."

Hammond grunted. "Fucking mess. Makes me wish I wasn't involved."

"Do you have to be, sir?"

Hammond exchanged a glance with his adjutant, and Wolper could practically hear him saying to Lewinsky, You see the kind of insubordination and stupidity I have to put up with?

"It's my bureau. I'm handling it. I asked for the responsibility."

It was true enough that Operations-Central Bureau had jurisdiction. Central, the busiest of the four geographical bureaus of the LAPD, comprised four territorial areas, including Rampart, where Robin Cameron's office was located. Because the crime had occurred on his turf, Hammond, as commanding officer, bore ultimate responsibility for the investigation.

Still, he could have palmed off the job of running the manhunt on the bureau's assistant CO or someone lower in the chain of command. The fact that Hammond was here meant that the deputy chief genuinely wanted to be part of the action. Wolper figured he knew why.

"Has the media got wind of this yet?" he asked innocently.

"Not to my knowledge," the PR man-cum-traffic cop said.

That had to be a lie. It would take a division of Army Rangers to keep Deputy Chief Hammond away from the TV cameras on a case like this.

"So Dr. Cameron is in there?" Hammond said quietly. "Coherent? Lucid? I need to get a statement from her."

"She just found out her kid is missing. I think she's all talked out for the moment."

"We don't exactly have the luxury of time."

"Let me take her downtown, get her settled in an interview room, and then I'll talk to her."

Hammond regarded Wolper with suspicion. "Are you under the impression you have an official role to play in this investigation, Lieutenant?"

"She knows me, sir. She trusts me. She'll be open with me."

Hammond hesitated for a long moment. "Get her downtown; then we'll decide how to handle the interview."

"I really think it's best if I"

"You know, I really think it's best if you follow orders, Lieutenant. Now how about you? Don't you think that's best?"

Lewinsky was smirking. Wolper wanted to clock him. "Yes, sir."

"Glad we understand each other." Hammond drifted away to speak with the Rampart patrol personnel.

Lewinsky and Banner lingered. "You're in over your head, Wolper," Lewinsky said, his voice low and nasty. "Go back to running a station house."

Wolper smiled. "Better watch that mouth of yours, Monica. It could get you in trouble someday."

If the adjutant had an answer to that, Wolper didn't hear it. He was already pulling Banner aside.

"What's the story, Phil? Why'd the DC involve himself in a sensitive case like this?"

Banner frowned. "Fuck if I know. It was against my recommendations. But the chief's a difficult man to dissuade."

"Guess that doesn't make your job any easier."

"Goddamn right." He forced a shrug. "Hell, it'll work out."

"If it doesn't, you can always spin it so it did."

Banner looked past him. "Some things," he said softly, "you just can't spin."

Wolper followed Banner's gaze. "I hear that."

Through the office doorway, Robin Cameron was visible, seated on the sofa in a tight, huddled ball of pain.