Serpentine

Chapter 13

Milo took out his pad. “We’d like to talk to your brothers. Could you give me their numbers?”

Val Des Barres said, “Sure,” and recited clearly. “Just spoke to Tony. His birthday. I sang him ‘Happy Birthday.’ Say hi to both of them.”

We got up. Before Milo took a step, she’d taken his hand in both of hers. “Good luck helping Ellie. She seemed so wounded.”

Dropping the hand, she headed for the stairs. As if beckoned, Sabino appeared. He opened the door, walked us out and to the Impala. The unmarked’s data screen seemed to fascinate him.

“Very nice computer.”

“Does the trick,” said Milo. “Been working here long?”

“Twenty-four years.”

“Nice place.”

Sabino’s hand rose to his heart and stayed there. “Lucky.”

We rolled down the cobbled drive, passing the team of gardeners, now paused for food and drink beneath one of the pines.

Milo said, “Think Miss Val could have alcohol issues?”

I said, “If she does she’s not hiding it. Why?”

“She gets stressed, heads straight for the bourbon. She seems too good to be true. Painting a rosy picture of Daddy but it couldn’t have been easy losing Mommy and then he goes all Sultan on her.”

“She admitted she might be in denial.”

“So?”

“There are no ironclad rules but I’ve found it’s the tightly buttoned-up ones who have the most issues.”

“You liked her.”

“Nothing unlikable about her, so far. The main thing is she gave off no tells I picked up. Including when she said she didn’t recognize Dorothy. Did you catch something I didn’t?”

“Nah. So some people are just well adjusted even when shit happens.”

I smiled. “Most people are. The planet keeps spinning.”

A few moments later he said, “What about the way she reacted to our coming in under false pretenses? Wouldn’t most people get at least a little peeved? Couldn’t everything we just saw be an act?”

“Like I said, no rules. But I’m not ready to establish a surtax on nice.”

“Nice makes me fidget. What’s that say about me?”

“Nice guy with a tough job.”

“Ha.”

I said, “Maybe it’s your year for nice. First Ellie, then Val.”

“Wonderful,” he said. “Who did I piss off?”

He drove until he reached the place Du Galoway had guessed to be near the death-spot. Pulled over sharply and stared out at the haze and returned to the road.

I said, “Lonely place to end up.”

“Poor Dottie,” he said, shifting into gear. “Val didn’t recognize her but she didn’t say impossible. So what Galoway figured from the Caddy makes sense. Good-looking woman escapes a bad marriage, comes to L.A., hooks up with Professor Scalpel and joins his fan club. Whatever his daughter’s level of insight, I’m not buying her image of Daddy as a great guy who just happens to collect women like stamps. To me that says Des Barres had no problem depersonalizing women. And we know where that can lead.”

“Something began at the house and finished on the road.”

“The only other thing that comes to mind is Stan Barker stalked her to L.A., found out how she was living, and got enraged. But then why would she end up in Des Barres’s car? If, on the other hand, Des Barres was involved, it makes sense. Do her in the house, store the body until it’s safe and drive her away. Or it did happen on the road: Invite her for a late-night drive, pull over, shoot her, reposition her behind the wheel. Release the hand brake, torch the car, and you’re done. No big deal walking back to the house in the dark. And a guy that rich, sacrificing a Caddy wouldn’t be a big deal.”

I said, “If he had good insurance, there’d be no loss at all.”

“There you go. The house is huge, Alex. All sorts of places to get away with stuff. Maybe there’s a basement with thick walls. Plus those outbuildings. Toss in all that acreage and you’ve got plenty of kill-spots and hidey-holes. A gun goes off far from the action, who’s gonna know?”

“And with the women coming in and out, one of them not returning wouldn’t be an issue.”

“So you’re with me on this. Good. I don’t like when you get that skeptical look on your face.”

I said, “When’s the last time that happened?”

“No idea, I’ve repressed the memory.”

He glanced at his Timex. “Let’s get back and see what the Des Barres’s sons have to say about life back in the good old days.”

He set up in my kitchen, fortified by leftover Genoa salami, pepperoncini, tomato slices, and onions, all on slabs of sourdough he’d sawed off savagely.

“Man, your leavings are better than most people’s meals.”

Robin and I do try to eat well but a while back we realized we’d begun to buy groceries with him in mind.

He chewed as he tried Dr. Anthony Des Barres’s phone. Listened and shook his head.

“ ‘If I do not answer I’m likely in surgery, if it’s an emergency dial 911.’ Let’s try Brother Lawyer.”

A hearty, melodious voice picked up at the other end of William Des Barres’s cell. “This is Bill. My sister said you’d be calling.”

“Did she tell you what it was about?”

“Something about one of Dad’s harem gals disappearing years ago.”

“Her name was Dorothy Swoboda.”

“Means nothing to me, Lieutenant. When that period of Dad’s life was in full gear, I was at Phillips Andover. It’s a prep school in Massachusetts.”

“All the way across the country.”

“I was an idiot jock, sir. Hockey, ice and field. Water polo, soccer, lacrosse. Opportunities in L.A. were lacking. Also, I didn’t approve of what was happening to Dad. Before Val’s mother died, he’d been pretty much a regular dad.”

Milo said, “Val’s mother, not yours?”

“Correct. Arlette was Dad’s second wife,” said Bill Des Barres. “My mom — and my brother’s — was Helen. She died when we were young, and Dad married Arlette pretty soon after and had Val. None of that evil-stepmom business, Arlette was great to us, became our functional mom. She was British and refined and soft-spoken.”

He cleared his throat. “When she died it meant we’d been orphaned twice. We weren’t little kids, I was fifteen, Tony was nineteen, but still.”

“And then your dad changed.”

“Took him a while, but yes. I rarely came home, ended up at Yale, then U. of Chicago Law because my brother was in med school there. Both of us stayed in Illinois. The only thing we regretted was being so far from Val, she was a cute kid. But she claimed Dad was taking great care of her, said she was fine.”

“Did you have your doubts?”

A beat.

“How should I put this?” said Bill Des Barres. “Dad basically was a good guy. Like most fathers back then, he worked all the time. But after Arlette’s passing he started taking more time for himself. Brought them in, first for overnights, then days, then some were sticking around longer. Using the pool, sunning themselves. I wondered about the effect on Val but to be truthful, I didn’t lose sleep over it. I was a self-centered adolescent. And like I said, Val never complained, she always seemed happy.”

“Still does.”

“What can I say, Lieutenant. My sister’s got one of those inherently sunny dispositions. She could’ve turned out to be a total spoiled brat but she didn’t because materialism was never her thing. Give her paper and pencil and she’s humming along. She’s super-talented, writes and illustrates books, did a couple of animation movies — anyway, in terms of this Dorothy whatever, can’t help you.”

“Could I email you a picture of her?”

“It’s not going to change anything,” said Des Barres.

“Would you mind, anyway?”

“Why not, go for it.”

“Really appreciate it, sir. Thanks for your time, sir.”

“Got plenty of it, Lieutenant. Kids are married and moved out, wife’s off on a bird-watching tour of Central America, dog’s ancient, sleeps and farts all day.”

Milo emailed the forest shot. Seconds later, his phone played Handel.

Bill Des Barres said, “I guess I spoke too soon, I actually do recognize her. Minus the hair, she was blond, they all were. What I remember is she tended to... how shall I say this... use various body parts to be noticed.”

“Seductive.”

“Not specifically with me, just an overall manner. A lot of them were like that but she stood out because she seemed to be taking it seriously — no smiles, no flirtatiousness. Like wiggling around was her assignment.”

“Aimed at your father.”

“No one else to target,” said Bill Des Barres. “He was sowing a whole lot of wild oats. Kind of a delayed reaction, I guess.”

“To what?”

“Getting married young, working like a dog since he was a kid, putting himself through school all the way to Ph.D. I guess he had a right to kick loose.”

“Any idea where he met all these women?”

“Not a clue. Maybe cocktail lounges in fancy hotels? It’s not like you could log on and click a picture — look, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about Dad. He never did anything inappropriate in front of us. Not once. It was just a party scene and it was his time and money to spend. Did it bug me? Sure. The changes in Dad were a little unsettling. But that’s not really why I left. I just wanted to do my own thing.”

He chuckled. “If anything, the girls would’ve been an incentive to stick around, right? All those bathing suits by the pool, who needs Playboy?”

Milo put down his phone. “Am I the only one hearing ambivalence?”

I said, “Complicated childhoods for both of them. So now you know Dorothy was definitely there. Small steps.”

Chomp chomp. “Bathing suits by the pool, place like that there’s got to be a pool house or cabanas. Got your phone handy?”

As he consumed, I google-earthed an aerial view of the property, studied the image, and showed it to him.

He pointed to an aqua-colored rectangle. “Big pool. And yeah, this block has to be ye olde changing rooms... and this one, further back... servants’ quarters?”

“Or a guesthouse.”

His finger traveled. “Here’s the tennis court... the building behind that is probably a garage... and all the way back here looks like a belt of trees. Plenty of places to get the job done.”

He returned the phone, got up and paced. Sat back down. “Any suggestions?”

I said, “Just to be thorough. I’d like to know how Des Barres’s wives died.”