Rage

CHAPTER 19

For most of the ride back to the city, Milo waded through LAPD bureaucracy in order to get hold of the complete file on Lara Malley’s suicide.

I let my mind run, ended up in some interesting places.

He pulled up in front of my house. “Thanks. Onward. Somewhere.”

“Are you in the mood for more speculation?”

“What?”

“Nina Balquist suspects Malley was involved in the dope trade. If that’s true, he’d be likely to know unpleasant people. The kind who’d be able to get something done behind bars.”

He twisted and faced me. “The hit on Troy Turner? Where’d that come from?”

“Free association.”

“Turner was written up as a gang thing. He assaulted a Vato Loco.”

“And maybe it even happened that way,” I said.

“Why wouldn’t it be righteous, Alex?”

“Why would a thirteen-year-old kid hang in a supply closet for an hour bleeding before anyone noticed?”

“Because C.Y.A.’s a mess.”

“Okay,” I said.

He shoved the seat back violently and stretched his legs. “Malley puts a hit on Turner a month into Turner’s sentence but waits eight years to take care of Rand?”

“That is problematic,” I said.

“Sure is.”

“I can offer an explanation but it would be broad conjecture.”

“As opposed to wild speculation?”

“Malley craved immediate vengeance for his daughter’s death. He saw Troy Turner as the primary killer so Troy paid quickly. After that satisfaction, Malley’s rage subsided. It’s possible he hadn’t even decided that Rand deserved the ultimate penalty. But the two of them got together and something went wrong.”

“Malley does own wife quickly but cuts Rand eight years of slack?”

“If he blamed Lara for Kristal’s death, that was a whole different level of rage.”

“You only kill the one you love? I don’t know, Alex. It’s a big jump.”

“Lara’s own mother’s still angry at her. There was a picture of Kristal in her house but none of Lara. Put yourself in Barnett’s place. All those years of infertility and she blows it big time.”

“I guess,” he said.

“There’d also be a practical reason not to hit Rand immediately after Troy. Both boys dying so close together would set off suspicions about revenge. Lara was different, there was no reason to assume her death was anything other than suicide.”

“Sue didn’t suspect. And she was a smart cop. Maybe…”

“If Malley did kill Lara and managed to fool the coroner and the cops, that implies cunning and planning. Which is consistent with an ability to delay gratification. So is Malley’s lifestyle- ascetic. Perhaps he mulled Rand’s fate for years, decided to check out the quality of Rand’s atonement.”

“You flunk you die,” he said. “Thirty-eight revolver. Cowboy gun… still, eight years is a helluva long time to wait.”

“Maybe the eight years were broken up by periodic contact- an extended testing period for Rand.”

“Malley visited Rand in prison? Spent face time with the punk who killed his kid?”

“Face time or letters or phone calls,” I said. “You’ve seen it, victims and offenders making contact after the disposition. The initiative could’ve come from Rand. He wanted to unload his guilt and made the first move.”

“You see Malley responding to that? We’re not talking Mr. Touchy-Feely.”

“Eight years changes people. And just because he hoards guns doesn’t mean he’s not hurting.”

“That sounds like a defense brief.” The police band burped. His hand shot out and switched it off. “Guess I’d be a putz not to check out Rand’s visitors’ list. Which, given the fact that C.Y.A.’s a big mess, isn’t gonna be simple. As long as I’m churning paper, I’ll also try to learn what I can about Turner’s death. And let’s not forget the joy of excavating Barnett Malley’s personal history.”

“Always happy to brighten your day.”

“Hey,” he said. “It’s more than I had before you started free associating.”

Five messages on my machine. Four junkers and Allison, sounding cheerful.

“I’m free! Seven a.m. flight tomorrow on JetBlue. I should arrive in Long Beach by ten-thirty.”

I reached her cell. “Got the good news.”

“Dropped a whole lot of guilt on cousin Wesley,” she said. “My Ph.D. put to practical use. He gets in from Boston tonight. I’m packed and ready to go.”

“How did Grandma take it?”

“There were a few genteel sniffs but she’s saying the right things.”

“Seven a.m. flight in New York means a drive in the dark from Connecticut.”

“Got a car picking me up at three-thirty,” she said. “Does that tell you how motivated I am? The day after I arrive I’ve got patients, but if you have time tomorrow, we could have some fun.”

“Fun is good,” I said. “I’ll pick you up.”

“I booked a car in Long Beach, too.”

“Unbook it.”

“Ooh,” she said. “Tough guy.”

At nine p.m., my service called. I’d downed a sandwich and a beer, was ready to kick back with some journals.

“It’s a Clarice Daney, Doctor,” said the operator.

“Cherish Daney?”

“Pardon?”

“I know a Cherish Daney.”

“Oh, could be, this is Loretta’s handwriting- yeah, that could be it, Doctor. You want me to hold her number or give it to you? She said it was no emergency.”

“I’ll take it.”

She clicked me in.

“Oh,” said Cherish Daney. “Sorry, I was just going to leave a message. They didn’t need to interrupt your evening.”

“No problem. What’s up?”

“I was actually trying to reach Lieutenant Sturgis, but they told me he’s out of town. So I thought of calling you. I hope that’s okay.”

Out of town?

“It’s fine. What’s on your mind, Ms. Daney?”

“After you left I realized I didn’t get a chance to talk much about Rand. My husband spoke to you but there’s something I thought I should add.”

“Please.”

“Okay,” she said. “This is probably nothing, but I thought you should know that Rand was really upset the entire weekend. More than upset. Highly agitated.”

“Your husband said he was afraid.”

“Did Drew say why?”

I remembered Daney’s protectiveness. Decided she was an adult and that I cared more about her reaction. “He said Rand thought someone had prowled near his window at night. In the morning Rand spotted a dark truck driving away from your house and for some reason that worried him.”

“The dark truck,” she said. “Drew told me all that, but I’m referring to something different. Something heavy on Rand’s mind right before he was released. It actually started a few weeks before. I wanted to open Rand up but felt I should take it slow because of all he’d been through.”

“Open him up,” I said.

“I’m not a psychologist, but I do have a certificate in spiritual counseling. The nonverbal signs were all there, Doctor. Lack of concentration, drop in appetite, insomnia, general restlessness. I put it down to prerelease jitters, but now I wonder. And it began well before we got Rand home, so I don’t think it had anything to do with being stalked by a truck.”

“Can you tell me more about it?” I said.

“As I said, he’d been jumpy for a while. But when we picked him up in Camarillo, he looked awful. Pale, shaky, really not himself. During the drive home we stopped off to get some gas and my husband went to the men’s room and Rand and I had a few minutes alone. By that time, he was barely able to sit still. I asked him what the matter was but he didn’t answer. I decided to be a little persistent and finally he said there was something he wanted to talk about. I asked what and he hemmed and hawed and finally he said it was about what had happened to Kristal. Then he started to cry. Which made him real embarrassed, he started gulping back his tears and forcing himself to smile. Before I had a chance to probe, Drew was back with the drinks and the snacks and I could tell Rand didn’t want me to say anything. I planned to follow up over the weekend, but somehow the timing was never right. I so wish I had, Doctor.”

“Something about what happened to Kristal,” I said. “Any idea what?”

“My assumption was he needed to unload. Because he’d never really dealt with what had happened. During our visits he had expressed some remorse. But maybe now that he could see freedom on the horizon, he was getting to a place where he could take a higher level of responsibility.”

“Such as?”

“Integrating his atonements into his consciousness. Perhaps by making proactive gestures.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I know,” she said. “This must sound like gobbledygook to you. And I’m not sure I understand it myself. I guess I can’t help but think there was something Rand wanted to say that he hadn’t said before. Whatever it was, I’m kicking myself for not prying it out of him.”

“Sounds like you did more for him than anyone else did.”

“That’s kind, Doctor, but the truth is, with all the other fosters, there are so many demands on my attention. I should have reacted more… affirmatively.”

“Are you saying Rand’s guilt had something to do with his murder?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying. To be honest, I’m feeling pretty foolish right now. For bothering you.”

“No bother,” I said. “What had Rand told you before?”

“At first, he claimed he didn’t remember a thing. Maybe that was even true- you know, repression. Even if it wasn’t, the psychodynamic would be the same, right, Doctor? The enormity of his transgression was just too much for his soul to bear, so he closed up and marshaled his defenses. Am I making sense?”

“Sure,” I said.

“I mean, it was all that boy could do just to get through each day. They claim it’s a juvenile facility but it’s not that at all.”

“There were old scars on Rand’s body,” I said.

“Oh, I know.” Her voice broke. “I heard about each assault but was never allowed to visit him when he was in the infirmary. When we got home he changed into fresh clothes and I took the old ones to wash. When he slipped off his T-shirt, I had a quick look at his back. I shouldn’t have been shocked, but it was hideous.”

“Tell me about the assaults.”

“The worst was when he was jumped by some gang members and stabbed several times for no reason at all. Rand wasn’t a fighter, just the opposite. But did that stop them?”

“How seriously was he hurt?”

“He ended up in the infirmary for over a month. Another time he was surprised from behind and hit on the head while taking a shower. I’m sure there were other incidents he didn’t talk about. He was a big strong boy, so he recovered. Physically. After the stabbing, I complained to the warden but I might as well have spit into the wind. The guards beat the inmates, too. Do you know what they call themselves? Counselors. They’re hardly that.”

“Those types of experiences could make someone jumpy,” I said.

“Of course they could,” she said. “But Rand had adjusted, it wasn’t until his release approached that the symptoms began. He was an amazing person, Doctor. I don’t know if I could’ve coped with eight years of that place and not gone crazy. If only I could’ve guided him better… One thing about working with people, you constantly get reminded that only God is perfect.”

“Did you visit Troy as well?”

“Twice. There wasn’t much time, was there?”

“Did Troy ever express any guilt?”

Silence. “Troy never got the chance to grow spiritually, Doctor. That child didn’t have a chance in the world. Anyway, that’s what I wanted to tell you. Whether it’s relevant, I don’t know.”

“I’ll pass it along to Detective Sturgis.”

“Thanks… one more thing, Dr. Delaware.”

“What’s that?”

“Your report on the boys. I never got a chance to tell you at the time, but I thought you did a very fine job.”

Rick Silverman answered at Milo’s house. “I’m out the door, Alex. Big Guy flew to Sacramento a couple of hours ago.”

“Where’s he’s staying?”

“Somewhere in Stockton, near some youth prison. Got to run, car crash, multiple traumas. I’m off-call but the hospital needs extra docs.”

“Go.”

“Nice talking to you,” he said. “If you speak to him before I do, tell him I’ll handle Maui.”

“Vacation plans?”

“Allegedly.”