L.A. Dead

Chapter 53

The following morning Marc Blumberg called and asked Stone to come to his office to discuss the motion to dismiss. Stone left Centurion and on his way passed the spot where he'd had the flat tire, reminding him that he had left the damaged tire at a service station for repair. He stopped to pick it up, and as he opened the trunk he saw Felipe Cordova's Nikes. He'd completely forgotten about them.

He arrived at Blumberg's office and was shown in and given coffee, while Marc finished a meeting in his conference room. Shortly, the lawyer came into his office and sat down at his desk.

"So," said Stone, "what's your plan? Who are we going to call?"

"Nobody," Marc replied. "That's my plan."

"Come again?"

"My plan is to cross-examine the prosecution's witnesses to within an inch of their lives. After all, it's they who have to make a case, not we."

"You don't think we ought to try?" Stone asked doubtfully.

"Let me ask you something, Stone: Can we prove Arrington didn't shoot Vance?"

"Maybe not."

"If we could prove she didn't do it, wed be home free, but we can't. So we're going to have to cast so much doubt on the prosecution's case that the judge will throw it out."

"And how are we going to do that?" Stone asked.

"I know Beverly Walters better than you," Marc replied.

"How well, Marc?"

"Well enough, trust me."

"All right, I'll trust you."

"Have you got any other ideas about how we might proceed?"

Stone took a deep breath. "I think we ought to call Felipe Cordova."

"I thought he was lost in darkest Mexico."

"He was, but he's back in LA. Brandy Garcia gave me a heads up."

"Doesn't it bother you that the prosecution would call Cordova, if they knew what we knew about his actions that night?"

"No."

"Stone, we're going to have Beverly Walters on the stand saying she saw Arrington shoot Vance, while Arrington doesn't remember what she did or didn't do. Cordova is just going to back up Beverly's story, isn't he?"

"I don't think so," Stone said.

"And why not?"

"A couple of reasons. First, Vanessa Pike told me she drove Beverly to the Calder house, and that Beverly saw what happened from the rear of the house, at the doors to the pool."

"Wait a minute. What Vanessa told you was that she drove somebody to Vance's; she didn't say who."

"But we know it was Beverly."

"How do we know that?"

"Because Charlene Joiner says that the two of them left her house together that evening, after a day lying around the pool."

"At what time?"

"At just about the time it would have taken for them to drive to the Calder house and arrive at the time Vance was being shot."

"Will Charlene testify to that?"

"Yes, to that and more."

"What else?"

"She'll testify that Beverly was wearing a terrycloth robe over a bathing suit when she left her house."

"So?"

"Cordova says he saw a woman next to Vance's body, and she was wearing a terrycloth robe."

"Did he see her face?"

"No."

"Then it could have been Arrington."

"Arrington doesn't wear terry robes. She likes plain cotton or silk."

"Can we prove that?"

"We can call her maid, who would know her wardrobe intimately, and who got her out of the tub and into a robe."

"I like it," Blumberg said. "But how are we going to put Beverly in the house?"

"I think she'll admit being outside, and it's a short step from the back door into the hallway where Vance died. And there's this, Marc: I'd be willing to bet that Cordova is not mentioned in Beverly's story, because she didn't see him."

"Yeah, but can Cordova prove he was there?"

"The police can; they've got a photograph of his shoeprint."

"Can he produce the shoe?"

"No, but I can; it's in the trunk of my car. I bought the shoes from Cordova in Mexico."

"Nikes, weren't they?"

"Right."

"There are millions of pairs of Nikes out there."

"There aren't millions of size twelves, and Cordova's have a cut across the heel of the sole that shows up in the photograph."

"You know, Stone, I think we're awfully close to being able to prove that Arrington didn't kill Vance."

"Close but not quite there. Cordova didn't see Beverly shoot him."

"And we don't have a motive."

"Or the weapon."

"Shit!" Blumberg said. "What could her motive be?"

"I think they were sleeping together. It could be that he told her to get lost, and she reacted badly."

"Could be, but how do we prove that?"

"I wish Vanessa were still alive; she could probably tell us."

"I'd give a million bucks for that gun with her prints on it."

"So would I," Stone agreed, "but it doesn't look as though we're ever going to find it."

"I'd give a lot for a witness who could put Beverly in the sack with Vance, too."

"Oddly enough, Beverly is known among her friends as a blabbermouth, but apparendy, she never blabbed about a relationship with Vance."

"Except maybe to Vanessa."

"Maybe, but we'll never know."

Marc suddenly stood up. "Jesus," he said, "I just thought of something. Vanessa kept a diary."

"How do you know that?"

"She kept it in her handbag, and she'd write in it at odd moments. I tried to read it once, but it was one of those things like high school girls have, with a tiny lock on it."

"I know the kind you mean," Stone said.

Marc sat down again. "But it must have been in the house with her; it would have burned."

"I think I can find out about that," Stone said.

"How? From the investigating officer?"

"I have a friend in the department."

"Use my phone," Marc said, pointing across the room to a phone on a coffee table.

Stone went to the phone and dialed Rick Grant's direct line.

"Captain Grant."

"Rick, it's Stone Barrington. Can we meet somewhere?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Stone."

"Why not?"

"You're defending Arrington Calder, and, I have to tell you, the investigators on the Vanessa Pike case are looking at you funny."

"All right, then will you do this for me? Call those officers and ask them if they found Vanessa's diary in their search of the premises after the fire."

"Why?"

"Because, if it still exists, it may have some information about Vance Calder's murder."

"If that's true, then it would have to go to Durkee and his partner, too."

"All I want is a copy. We could subpoena it, if we have to."

"All right, I'll check on it and get back to you."

"Thanks, Rick." He hung up and turned back to Marc. "If we hit paydirt in the diary, then we can demand that the cops get a search warrant for Beverly's house. Maybe the gun is there."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Blumberg said.

Stone stood up suddenly.

"Where are you going?"

"To Vanessa's house. I don't think I feel comfortable with the cops seeing that diary before we do."

"Let me know what you find."

Stone headed for the door.