Hollywood Station (44 page)

Upon reading the news accounts about Farley Ramsdale and the massacre at the Gulag, a very frightened Gregori Apramian called Hollywood Station early in the afternoon to offer information. And after that call, his junkyard was deemed a crime scene and was sealed and scoured by criminalists and detectives from downtown.

Gregori stood in front of his office next to a leashed Doberman who, despite the cast on his rear leg, was snarling and still ready to fight. And scaring the crap out of every cop who got within ten yards.

What Gregori said for the record and what was transcribed onto a police report was: "I just promise Cosmo to tow the Mazda that night. I don't know about no robberies. Maybe Cosmo bring this guy Farley to my yard to destroy the Mazda? That is what I think. They are going to burn up the Mazda to do the covering up of robberies. But something happen. They get in fight and hurt my Odar. And Cosmo shoot the man Farley. I do not know Farley. I do not know the Russian woman you arrest. I only know Cosmo because we go to same Armenian church sometimes. I am trying to be a friend to a fellow immigrant and be a, how you say, credit to America."

At the end of his long day, Viktor Chernenko played a tape of Ilya Roskova's interview for the detective lieutenant and both area and station captains. Ilya had stopped saying nyet after the diamonds were excreted onto the squad room floor. She had then voluntarily removed the rest in the Hollywood Station bathroom where they were packaged and booked.

Ilya had been advised of her rights in both English and Russian, and she declared her understanding. The interview about her role in both robberies was long and tedious and self-serving. She kept claiming to have been totally in thrall to Cosmo Betrossian, calling herself a mental captive who lived in fear of him.

When one of the captains looked at his watch, Viktor advanced the tape to the portion dealing with the last pieces of the puzzle that remained missing: Olive and the ATM money.

Ilya's voice said, "Olive was there when Farley did blackmail on Cosmo. When he gave big threat to tell police about the stolen letter. But Olive is, how you say, imbecile. Her brain is in a destroyed condition from drugs. I am very astounded that she have enough of the brain left to find the money Cosmo steal from ATM. Very astounded that she can take the money and vanish into thin smoke."

Then Viktor's voice said, "Do you think it is possible that Cosmo was holding back from you? Is it possible that Cosmo hid the money somewhere because he did not wish to share with you?"

After a long pause on the tape, Ilya's voice said angrily, "Is not possible!" Then she obviously realized that she was blurring her portrait of enslavement and said, "But of course I was so much in fear that I may be incorrect about what Cosmo can do. He was very much clever. And had two faces."

Viktor turned off the machine then and said to his superiors, "So far as I am concerned, we have hit a stone fence. I believe that Cosmo Betrossian took the ATM money from under the house of Farley Ramsdale on the night that the car was towed to the junkyard. I believe that Cosmo Betrossian has disposed of the ATM money with a friend, probably another woman. The Russian pride of Ilya Roskova does not wish to admit such a possibility-that he could have another secret woman and would be leaving her. I believe that Cosmo then tried to tell to Dmitri Zotkin a false story of Olive stealing the money, but Dmitri was too smart to buy it. And that's when the shooting started."

"You've been right on so far," the area captain said. "So what do you think happened to this woman Olive?"

"I think she finally got scared enough of Cosmo Betrossian to run away from Farley Ramsdale. She is probably living now with some other tweaker. Or maybe just living out on the street. We shall find her dead sometime from an overdose. Truly, she is of no further use to this investigation."

"Do you think we'll ever find the ATM money?" the station captain asked.

Viktor said, "We have learned that Cosmo Betrossian loved Russian women. There is probably one of them shopping on Rodeo Drive with the ATM money. Right now as we talk."

"Okay, it's a wrap," the area captain said. "When you do press interviews on this, just try to avoid mention of the missing money. The other pieces fit perfectly."

"Yes, sir," Viktor Chernenko said. "That is the only fly in the jelly."

Chapter
TWENTY-ONE

BY THE TIME the June deployment period was in full swing at Hollywood Station, things were back to normal. The surfer cops were hitting the beach at Malibu every chance they got. B. M. Driscoll was sure that he had a sinus infection from what to him was a severe allergy season. Benny Brewster had persuaded the Oracle to stick B. M. Driscoll with one of the recent arrivals who didn't know him, and the Oracle complied. Fausto Gamboa and Budgie Polk were an effective team, particularly after Budgie convinced Fausto that he absolutely had to treat her more like one of the guys. Wesley Drubb got his wish and was assigned to a gang unit with a chance to do more hardcore police work. And in a pinch, caused by summer vacations, Hollywood Nate agreed to be a temporary training officer to a brand-new probationer named Marty Shaw, who made Nate nervous by constantly calling him sir.

But best of all for the midwatch, Mag Takara came back to duty. The Oracle thought she should be assigned to the desk until her vision improved a bit more, and she agreed. Mag wore glasses now and would soon be taking sick days for future plastic surgery, but she wanted very much to put on the uniform again, and it was permitted. She learned that she was going to be awarded the Medal of Valor for her actions in the jewelry store on the night of the grenade incident. She said her parents would be very proud.

Mag even thanked Flotsam for the beautiful roses he had brought to the hospital, telling him he was a "choiceamundo friend." Flotsam actually blushed.

When Budgie Polk saw Mag, they hugged, and Budgie looked at the cheekbone that showed a slight darkened crater where tissue had not yet fully recovered and said, "You're still the most gorgeous slut that ever hustled tricks on Sunset Boulevard."

The deployment period was ending on a night when the homicide team of Andi McCrea and Brant Hinkle was working late after having arrested an aging actor who walked into his agent's office, cold-cocked the guy with an Oscar replica that the actor used as a paperweight, and then threatened to return with a gun.

When Hollywood Nate heard about it he said no jury made up of SAG members would ever convict the actor, and they might even make the agent buy him another fake Oscar.

They were just finishing up that evening when the Oracle entered the detective squad room looking very grim. He said, "Andi, can you come to the captain's office, please?"

"What's up?" she said, following the Oracle to the captain's office, where she saw a U. S. Army sergeant major holding his hat in both hands.

"Noooo!" Andi cried out, and Brant Hinkle heard and ran to the sound of her voice.

"He's not dead!" the Oracle said quickly. "He's alive!"

He put his arm around her and led her into the office and closed the door.

The sergeant major said, "Detective McCrea, we've been informed that your son, Max, has been wounded. I'm really sorry."

"Wounded," she said, as though the word were foreign to her.

"It wasn't a roadside bomb, it was an ambush. Automatic weapons and mortars."

"Oh, my god," she said and started weeping.

"It's his leg. I'm afraid he's lost his right leg." Then he quickly added, "But it's below the knee. That's much better."

"Much better," Andi murmured, hardly hearing, hardly comprehending.

"He's been flown to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany, and from there he'll go to Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington."

The sergeant major expressed his and the army's gratitude, offered to assist her in any way he could, and said a lot of other things. And she didn't understand a word of it.

When he was finished, Andi thanked him and walked out into the corridor, where Brant Hinkle took her in his arms and said to the Oracle, "I'll drive her home."

There wasn't a more excited homeowner in that part of Hollywood than Mabel was these days. She had so much to do. There just weren't enough hours in the day.

First of all, she got a new screen door. It was a nice aluminum door that the man said would last a lifetime. Then he looked at Mabel and she knew he was thinking, It will surely last your lifetime.

Then came the painting of the exterior, which was still going on. Mabel had to keep the windows open all the time in this hot weather, even though there was the awful smell of paint from outside. But it all just added to the excitement. They were going to start painting the interior of the house very soon and putting wallpaper in the kitchen and bathroom. Mabel thought she'd buy a couple of air conditioners before the interior painting started. It was a thrilling time to be alive.

When they were having breakfast, Mabel said to Olive, "Do you think you're up to going to an NA meeting this afternoon, dear?"

"Oh, sure," Olive said, still looking pale from having to white-knuckle it.

"I started going to AA when I was sixty-two years old," Mabel said. "After my husband died, the booze got the best of me. I've been in recovery ever since. You'll meet some grand people there who will always be just a phone call away. I'm sure that the NA meetings are like AA meetings, just a different drug is all. But I have no doubt you'll prevail. You're a strong girl, Olive. You've never had a chance to prove it."

"I'll be okay, Mabel," Olive said, trying to eat some scrambled egg.

Mabel's physician had told Olive that a diet of nutritious food was essential for her, and Mabel hadn't stopped cooking since Olive arrived. Mabel had seen that Olive's attempt at unassisted withdrawal from methamphetamine addiction was very hard on her, so Mabel had taken Olive by bus to a doctor who'd treated Mabel for thirty years.

The doctor had examined Olive and given her medication to ease withdrawal symptoms but said that healthy eating was the best medicine, along with abstaining from all drugs forever.

Mabel was pleased watching Olive eat a forkful of scrambled egg and a bite of toast, washing it all down with orange juice. A week earlier she couldn't have done that.

"Dear," Mabel said, "do you feel well enough today to talk about the future?"

"Sure, Mabel," Olive said, realizing that this was the first time in her life that anyone had ever mentioned her future. Olive never thought that she had a future. Or much of a past. She'd always lived in the present.

"As soon as you're well into recovery I'm going to do a quitclaim deed. Do you know what that is?"

"No."

"I'm going to deed this house to you with the provision that I can live here for the rest of my life."

Olive looked at Mabel with a blank expression, then said, "I don't think I understand what you mean."

"That's the least I can do for you after what you've given me," Mabel said. "I was going to leave the house to the Salvation Army so the state doesn't get it. That's what will happen to Farley's house, you know. He had no heirs and no will, so the state of California will take it. I think Governor Schwarzenegger is rich enough. He doesn't need my house."

Olive clearly couldn't grasp it. "Me?" she said. "You're giving me your house?"

"All that I ask is that you take care of me as best you can for as long as you can. We can hire one of those nice Filipino girls to help with the unpleasant nursing when I get to that point. I would like to die at home. I think my doctor will help me achieve that wish. He's a good and decent man."

Suddenly tears ran down Olive's cheeks, and she said, "I don't want you to die, Mabel!"

"There there, dear," Mabel said, patting Olive's hand. "My parents both lived until they were nearly one hundred. I expect I've got some years left."

Olive got up and took a tissue from the box beside Mabel's chair, then came and sat down at the table again, wiping her eyes.

Mabel said, "I never use that silly sewing room anymore, so that will be your bedroom. We'll decorate it up real pretty for you. And it has a good closet. We'll take you shopping and fill up that closet."

Olive just kept looking at Mabel with eyes as quiet and devoted as a dog's and said, "My own bedroom?"

"Certainly, dear," Mabel said. "But of course we'll always have to share the bathroom. You wouldn't mind not having your own bathroom, would you?"

Olive started to say that in her whole life she'd never had her own bathroom. Or her own bedroom. But she was so overwhelmed she couldn't speak. She just shook her head.

Mabel said, "I think we'll buy a reliable car right away. You can drive, can't you?"

"Oh, yes," Olive said. "I'm a good driver."

"I think when we get our car, the first thing we'll do is take a drive to Universal Studios and do the tour. Have you ever been to Universal Studios?"

"No," Olive said.

"Neither have I," Mabel said. "But we'll need to buy one of those fold-up wheelchairs. I don't believe I could manage the long walk. You wouldn't mind pushing me in a wheelchair, would you?"

"I'll do anything for you, Mabel," Olive said.