The Viking Funeral

Chapter 47

THEY MADE A fuel stop at Love Field in Dallas. Alexa had radioed ahead and arranged for a medical team to take a look at Shane's leg. The bullet had passed through the lastus laterus muscle, barely missing the abductor canal.

So much for karma.

The slug had threaded its way through a complex maze of potential disasters while doing very little damage. They stitched and bandaged him up, gave him a shot of antibiotics, then told him to check with a doctor in L. A.

They took off from Love Field an hour later.

Los Angeles was in the middle of a horrible inversion layer that trapped the city's smoggy pollutants like smoke under a blanket.

The Citation landed at Van Nuys airport at three-thirty in the afternoon, taxied up to the small Customs shack at the end of Runway 2–6, and shut down.

Tony Filosiani was waiting for them beside the grandfather of the Crown Vies. The old beige and brown Ford fit the funky L. A. day.

"I'm sorry about the way this went down, Sergeant," the chief said as they deplaned. "I know we mind-fucked ya, but I didn't know what else t'do."

"It saved my life," Shane admitted as he limped over to the car and stood leaning against it. "It fooled me, so I fooled Jody."

"We been trying t'get a fix on this Lisa St. Marie person you radioed me about," Filosiani said, getting right to business. "We finally got an address from the whadda-ya-callit… From the taxes."

"The State Real Estate Tax Board?" Alexa corrected.

"Yeah. She bought a condo in Century City two years ago. The address just came in. I got a five-man jump-out squad stationed over there. They say, according to the doorman, she's upstairs. They got the place covered till we get there."

"Let's go. I'll fill you in on the way," Shane said through punched and swollen lips. Then he turned to Jo-Jo and Luis. "Thanks for the backup, guys." He shook hands with Knight.

When the fed pulled his hand back, he found that he had the STD transmitter in his palm.

"I found that floating in the airplane toilet," Shane said. "Guess it's yours."

"Damn… I hope ya washed it off," Knight said, glowering at the little white pill.

Shane shook hands with Rosario. "Stay in touch, amigo," he said, then turned and opened the rear door of the plainwrap. As he slid into the chiefs musty car, Shane could see that true to form, the Day-Glo Dago had cut himself no slack when it came to the perks of office. The backseat was torn, and the car smelled of stale tobacco.

Alexa paused to say good-bye to Jo-Jo and Luis, kissing both of them lightly on the cheek. "You guys are the best," she told them.

"Hear that, you little Cuban faggot?" Jo-Jo said, grinning. "I'm the best."

"Ain't what she told me," Luis said, winking at Alexa. "She told me she thinks you're the biggest, slowest sack a'shit this side a'the post office."

"At least I don't roast no live chickens in motel bathtubs, you greasy Santeria."

Chief Filosiani shook his head in mock distress, but he was grinning as he settled behind the wheel. Alexa followed, and Chief Filosiani pulled away from the Customs building.

"Them two… Jesus," he said, shaking his head. "They never stop with that shit."

Filosiani turned onto the 101 Freeway, took it to the 405, then over the hill into West L. A.

In less than twenty minutes they were in Century City, pulling up to a twenty-story high-rise with a huge marble monument sign out front that announced the building: CENTURY PARK WEST.

The tall steel-and-glass tower poked up through the afternoon sky, its top-floor mirrored windows disappearing into the brown L. A. muck.

They were met by Lieutenant Lincoln Heart, who was leading the team of jump-outs. Heart was ebony black, and his short-sleeved Class C uniform barely concealed a physique of rippling muscles.

There were two blue-uniformed officers waiting in the lobby. They learned that two more were already up on Lisa's floor, watching her apartment.

"You got a floor plan?" Filosiani asked.

"Yep, got it from the building manager. Ms. St. Marie's got an east view, two-bedroom," Lieutenant Heart said as he opened a folded Xerox of the plan. They studied it while Heart continued: "According to the doorman, she came home last night 'bout midnight. Her car's still in the underground garage. Far as he knows, she hasn't left and nobody's been up to see her." Lieutenant Heart reached into his pocket and produced a key. "Here's the master to that floor."

"How you wanna do this, Lieutenant Hamilton?" Filosiani quizzed Alexa. It was his management style to be a coach to his officers but let them run the operations.

Shane smiled when he called her "Lieutenant," realizing that in his absence, her promotion had come through.

"We need to get Ms. St. Marie to cooperate, and I think Shane has the best chance of turning her. We may need to use her as bait to lure Jody. If she knows where Papa Joe is, we'll need to get that, too." Alexa looked over at Shane. "For all those reasons, Shane should be on point," Alexa said.

"Good analysis," Filosiani noted. "I agree."

"How's the leg feel?" Alexa asked.

"Okay," Shane said, and surprisingly, aside from some occasional throbbing and muscle weakness, he had very little pain. "Lemme give it a try. But I have to do it alone. If we do a SWAT-type entry, she'll clam up."

Filosiani nodded.

"Anybody got a piece I could borrow?" Shane asked.

"Here," Alexa said, "I have a backup." She handed him another Astra 9.

"What is it with you and these little Spanish Astras?" He grinned.

She smiled. "Great little purse gun, eight-shot clip, no hammer, doesn't snag coming out. Stop complaining… You still owe me four hundred for the last one."

He chambered the Astra and stuck it into his belt, zippering his light windbreaker over it. Then the four of them stepped onto the elevator.

They rode in silence, listening to the innocuous elevator music and light chimes that announced each passing floor. As the elevator stopped, Lieutenant Heart gave Shane the master key.

They exited on sixteen-Lisa's floor. As they got out of the elevator, they saw two more of Lieutenant Heart's blue shirts watching Lisa's door from the stairwell up the hall.

"You're up," Filosiani said. "Number sixteen-twelve."

Shane limped on his bad leg across the plush carpet to Lisa's apartment while Filosiani motioned to the men in the stairwell to stay back.

He rang the bell next to a pair of massive oak double doors. He could hear the chimes inside, waited, then tried again.

Nothing.

He knocked on the door and, when nobody answered, took out the master key and silently fitted it into the lock. He pulled Alexa's Astra, jacked a round into the pipe, then quietly pushed the door open.

The hallway was mirrored on both sides to give the narrow corridor a wider feel.

An old fear hit him.

Shane hated going through mirrored entries when he was shaking a house; too easy to get spotted. He took a deep breath before quickly slipping into the white-on-white condo. He stopped just before entering the living room, keeping his back flat to the mirrored wall on the right, using the mirrors opposite him to search the living room. His ears were straining for any sound of movement. Nothing.

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Alexa appear in the front doorway with yet another Astra in her right hand. She had more of those little automatics than the Spanish Mafia. He put a finger to his lips and motioned for her to stay outside.

She nodded and held her position as Shane moved carefully into the empty living room. He slid past the wall-to-ceiling plate-glass window and checked the kitchen.

Nothing.

He worked his way down the apartment's center hall, pausing at the guest bedroom door, pushing it slowly open, checking inside.

Empty.

He continued on to the master suite. He had a premonition of death, almost as if he could see around the corner into the future. A cold fear was beginning to ice the edges of his stomach. He cracked the bedroom door and looked in. The bed was mussed, but empty. He entered cautiously, checking the perimeter of the room first. The suite was spacious, dominated by a king-size bed and a plate-glass window that took in the smog-drenched Hillcrest Country Club sixteen stories below.

The bedroom was deserted. The bathroom wasn't.

He found her there, naked.

It wasn't pretty.

What human beings were capable of doing to one another sometimes horrified him.

She was lying in her tub brutally shot in five places. Both kneecaps were shattered, as well as both elbows. The kill shot had opened a gaping hole in the center of her chest. Lisa had been blond and pale in life, but lying in her tub, naked and bloodless, she looked like a broken doll in its white porcelain container. Papery skin wrapped her lifeless body like thin, transparent tissue. Her blond hair was tipped in dried blood, turning the feathered ends red.

Sex goddess in repose.

"Shit!" Shane heard himself say, then called out in a loud voice, "I've got her! It's clear, master bath!"

In seconds, Alexa and Filosiani entered with Lieutenant Heart and the two jump-outs from the stairwell.

"Okay," Filosiani said as soon as he saw the body. "Everybody out. This here's a crime scene. Let's not foul it for Forensics with our own prints and fibers."

They all backed out of the bathroom and stood in the hall.

"Jody's our doer," Shane said softly.

"Then he's turning into a monster," Alexa said softly.

"No," Shane answered, "he's just decided not to hide it anymore."

Filosiani said, "I'll get Homicide out here. My guess is, if she knew where Sandro Mantoor and Jose Mondragon are, then Jody musta found out before he killed her."

"She was pretty tough," Alexa said, with a tinge of admiration as she looked toward the bedroom door. "She must have taken all four joint shots before she talked. After he got what he wanted, he put the fifth round through her heart."

"Sure is the way it looks." Shane shuddered.

"So how do we find Papa Joe?" Alexa said. "If Jody gets to him first, he'll get the money, kill Sandy and Jose, and run. Once he gets out of the country, we'll lose jurisdiction and probably never find him."

"There's a guy, an ex-Air Unit pilot named David VanKirk," Shane said. "IAD terminated him for making night flights, smuggling dope in from Mexico with his police helicopter. If you've still got an address, I'd send somebody out to his place to sit on him. Jody may try and use that chopper to get outta California."

"Good idea," Filosiani said. Because his cell phone wasn't working in this steel-and-glass building, he ran toward the elevator on his way outside to call Homicide and gather up a surveillance detail on David VanKirk.

"This is a dead end, of course," Alexa said softly. "Without Lisa, we've got nothing… nobody… No place to start. My guess is Jody won't take a chance on VanKirk."

Shane nodded.

However, there was one other possibility that began tickling Shane's thoughts. It was a huge long shot, but he had been on such a cold streak, he figured he was due. He hoped it was time for him to finally cash a winner.