Chapter 3. The Minotaur's Lounge

It was the changing of shifts at the cab company. Doc’s Jaguar was in its spot. Bob buzzed them in past the dispatch to Jenny’s desk.

Tongue slathered in ministerial butter, Doc was out of his chair to greet them, “I’m so pleased to see you, Detective Ryan, in this time of trouble. Have a seat.”

Ryan looked at the low, deep cushioned, chairs but didn’t want to sink into one of them.

“As you know, all of us at the company are grief stricken.” Doc went back behind his desk and waited for the two to sit. Ryan scrutinized Doc and took note of a near imperceptible nervous tic.

Rogers sank deep into the chair and flipped through an Art Forum magazine. Doc was still standing, as was Ryan, and continued as though reciting a prepared speech at a funeral, “Perry was one of our most beloved drivers… but he had some problems that, well, they just overwhelmed him.”

Ryan didn’t take his eyes off the Professor, “You go ahead and sit, Doc. My back is bad and I couldn’t get up if I sat in one of those.”

Doc hesitated but sat at a disadvantaged position.

Once Ryan established a dominant stratagem standing, he asked, “I hope I’m not rude by asking, do you know of anyone who would want to kill Perry?”

Doc hadn’t planned on having his sitting strategy reversed as he peered up at Ryan’s sour face, “No. Everyone loved Perry.”

As if on cue, Jenny opened the door, “Excuse me, Doctor Spawn, but your appointment is in ten minutes.”

“Thank you Jenny.” He stood from his chair, “As you might know, Perry was mixed up with some shady characters. We suspected he had a cocaine habit and had already notified him we needed a urine test.”

Ryan wondered if Doc was going to give him the bum steer too. He led with a question just to see, “You think the other driver, Crazhinski, might be involved?”

“I don’t know but, unfortunately, we’re going to have to let him go too. He was busted last night. He’s out on bail but the city pulled his cab license first thing this morning.”

“Oh, I wonder why I didn’t know that.” Ryan acted as though puzzled but, of course, he knew. He was surprised Doc knew so much already.

“You think he had something to do with this?” Doc exaggerated a shrug, “Frankly, I would have thought he’d be the one to commit suicide. Not Perry.”

“Doc, I’d like to have the dispatch logs for the last few nights.”

“Sure, they’re in the dispatch office. Jenny can copy them for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, sirs, I can’t miss this appointment with the bank.” Doc gestured for Ryan to leave first.

“Oh, you didn’t say it was with the bank, Doc. You’d better get to it.” Ryan showed a mildly sadistic delight at Doc’s discomfort.

*****

Rogers joined Ryan after picking up the logs from Jenny. Doc sped off in his Jaguar. Ryan was P.O.ed at himself for not taking pictures of the tires. He thought of following Doc to see where he was going but not with Rogers in the car. They stopped before getting in the Caprice. Ryan asked, “What did you see in Doc’s office.”

“See? What was there to see? A fancy art magazine… the usual framed documents on the wall… a comfy chair…”

“And Doc? What about Doctor Spawn?”

“He was upset about Perry. He sounded sincere, why?”

Ryan thought of Rogers as an ambitious young man but not eager enough to commit himself to detective work. If an investigation didn’t jump out the box like a Cracker Jacks prize, Rogers would just as soon let it go cold.

Perry’s suicide/murder was but one thread in a complex conspiracy Ryan had been drawn into by Anna. He was careful not to let anyone know exactly what he’d untangled of it so far. That’s why he kept two corkboards: one large one at the station, and another at home. There were too many high-power folks involved for any missteps. Now he wasn’t so sure of Rogers.

“Let’s get back to the Barn and check in with the Lewey.”

*****

Ryan knew Lieutenant Lopez was a good cop on the streets but was marking time while awaiting retirement and, proving the Peter Principle, he had been promoted past his level of incompetency in charge of Homicide, Narcotics, and Vice. Lopez wasn’t up to anything with more responsibility than keeping his desktop spotless and knowing enough about the rules of bureaucracy to not cross anyone else’s bailiwick. A picture of a tropical island beach above the file cabinet adorned the wall behind him. He was already on that beach sipping a Pina Colada.

“Sit down Ryan. Looks like you stirred up a shit storm over this Perry suicide case. Doctor Spawn’s lawyer called. Says you threatened him. And you say?”

Ryan snorted, “Suicide? What the… threatened? I asked a few questions, Lopez. I didn’t get the memo. Are they the kinds of questions that don’t get asked around here anymore?”

Lopez passed a file towards Rogers, “You’re crossing jurisdictions, Ryan. Camino Cielo’s County. You’ve got no business putting your nose in County Homicide’s business. Besides, I got the coroner’s report faxed to us a few minutes ago. Not much to it.”

Ryan grabbed the file from Lopez’s hand before Rogers had a chance. He flipped it open and ran a stubby finger to the block where cause of death was typed, Suicide. He scanned further down for the coroner’s signature. It wasn’t signed by Dr. Williams’ but by a County Deputy, “What gives, Lopez? How can you buy this crap? Where’s the forensic pathologist report?”

“Dr. Williams must not have been available. Section 27491 says a deputy can sign it, Ryan. Lay off it.”

It was dated an hour before he’d been at the Coroners’ Office. “C’mon Lopez. We just left the lab. She hadn’t even opened him up yet, but it was obvious. She was signing it off as a homicide.”

“Must have found something after you left. County Investigators signed off on it and, if it’s as fucked up as you say, it’s all theirs now. You’re off the case.”

“It’s murder, Lopez,” the veins popped out on the stump of Ryan’s neck, “and you know it.”

Lopez slammed a fist on his desk, “Don’t go shitting a brick over it Ryan. You’ve gotta lighten up and take some of your vacation time. You’ve got it comin’ to you. Go fishing. If I had your boat, that’s where I’d be, instead of in this fucking hole.”

Ryan left Rogers with Lopez at the station and popped a Lopressor on the way to his car. His mind was racing and he knew, from how irritable he’d become, that his blood pressure was high. Lopez was right. Take it easy. Let it go. He’d been diagnosed as having an aortic aneurism and needed to take care of himself… get out to sea. He could let go of all this BS if it wasn’t for Anna. Because of Anna he knew too much to drop out of sight.

*****

Ryan took a break downtown at L’il Audrey’s on State Street. He loved the comfort of the place. All the waitresses seemed to have been there since the last ice age. Hilda was the most matronly among the rest, with hips wide enough to make it impossible to pass her in the aisle between the tables and the booths. She had a mole on the side of her upper lip. He couldn’t help but to watch it bob as she took his order and scolded, “Shame, shame on you Mr. Ryan, bacon and eggs are against doctor’s orders.”

“I know, but I’m having a vegetable with them.”

“Hash browns don’t count.”

“Would you rather I have rabbit food this morning?”

 She left him alone in his booth thinking. He had been around long enough to know that this kind of a case needed stealth and team work. Craszhinski was the best man Ryan had ever worked with until that last week in Saigon. He needed a man like Craszhinski on this job… the old Crash, that is. Rogers certainly wouldn’t do and Crash had turned into a drunk. If only he could stay sober long enough to help.

Hilda brought his order and, while she refilled his coffee, she teased, “Where you been, sailor? We’ve been missing you since you went on that diet.”

He gave her a grin and reached out to pat her ample butt, “Sweet heart, there’s too much temptation here.”

She turned her back to him to pour coffee for two uniformed cops in the next booth. Winking at them, she said, “Don’t you do that or I’ll bring down the law on you.”

One of the uniformed cops didn’t miss the opportunity to join her, “She’ll own your ass you know Ryan … sexual harassment. You’d best take your boat to Mexico.”

“That’s a good idea. The second time today I’ve been told to take a vacation,” and he thought, Why not Mexico?

Ryan tried a touch of mirth but was disturbed by the chain of events that had transpired since Anna came to him about a month ago. She’d originally told him the story of the S&M dungeon that had been in the media since then. It was, as she said, a game that had gotten out of hand. Her drivers, David Craszhinski and Douglass Perry, knew about it too. Since the victim was a Los Angeles attorney it had been in the news as a sordid unsolved case. He’d been taken off that investigation and now, Perry’s suicide. He might have had to act on the outside of the chain of command because he had no idea whether it was corruption or bureaucratic incompetence that had been thwarting both investigations.

Hilda came by with a pot of coffee. The policy at Li’l Audrey’s was to never let a cup go empty, “You thinking about Mexico?”

One of the uniforms passed the newspaper across the aisle, “Looks like we found the cabbie.”

The front page headline read, “S & M Club Death… Cab Driver Sought.” The article had a what looked like a passport picture of Perry on the front page with the article titled, Douglass Perry Person of Interest. Ryan glanced at the first sentence that read, “A Santa Barbara cab driver is a person of interest in the S & M dungeon death a month ago. Mr. Perry has been missing for two days. Police are…”

The caption under another picture read, “Anadel Bonnaire questioned.”

He passed the paper back, “I never read about ongoing investigations.”

He wasn’t sure whether Anna was doing him a favor or deflecting blame from her own complicity. He was not one to let something like this to get away from him if he could. Anna was young and, being young, she thought she was quick enough on her feet to outwit and outmaneuver everyone else. These are qualities that make her most dangerous to be involved with even though she had proven herself to be a valuable asset in the past. She had also warned him to be careful of the DA’s office. She could be right on that point.

Somebody in the DA’s office had their hands in this and Santa Barbara wasn’t a safe place for Anna. He needed to get her out of town for her own good. Maybe not Mexico but there was Craszhinski… Craszhinski… he was probably in as much peril as Perry. He knew San Francisco Bay. Damned Craszhinski … he could do the job if he would sober up. He could help get Anna out of town before they both ended up like Perry.