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Authors: Faye Kellerman
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read about him in the papers…”
“You don’t recall Ekerling’s name in your mini-investigation of Little?”
“Mini-investigation…” Shriner smiled. “That’s a good term for it. I might have heard the name. If he turns out to be a lead, let me know. In the meantime, I’ve got a date with my golf clubs. It’s not as exciting as PI work, but it keeps me out of trouble.”
DECKER HAD JUST finished eating his bag lunch when Marge called, recapping the interview with Phil Shriner. When she was done, he said, “Exactly how
bad
of a gambling problem?”
Marge said, “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. I’m sure that Melinda Little is expecting your call any minute. I think you should pounce on it, Pete, before she starts thinking of some very clever excuses.”
“I’m still in Simi Valley.” Decker shifted the phone to his other ear. “Besides, I’ve got the interview with Arnie Lamar in fifteen minutes at the police station. What’s your afternoon like?”
“I have some free time.”
“Oliver and you need to pay her a visit.”
“What if she lawyers up?” Marge asked.
“Then that’ll tell us something.” Another call was coming through the line. A private number. “Someone’s breaking in, Marge. Set something up with Melinda and let me know, okay?”
“Will do. Good luck.”
Decker hung up and took the private call. “Decker.”
“What do you want?”
The low, smooth voice was instantly recognizable and made Decker sit up in the cruiser and grab his pencil and notepad. Normally, he would have thanked Donatti for calling back, but there was no such thing as chitchat with Chris. “What do you know about the Bennett Little murder?”
A long silence over the line. “You suspect me?”
“So far as I can tell, you were fifteen and in New York when it happened. Am I wrong?”
“Then why are you calling?”
“You were in L.A. when the murder was still fresh. You’re a good listener. Maybe you heard something.”
Another pause. “It was a long time ago, and I have a substance abuse problem. If I ever had any long-term memory, it’s gone by now.”
“But you remember the case.”
“A guy gets hit, you’re wondering who’s working the territory.”
“You think it was a hit?”
A small laugh came over the line. “Uh, yeah.”
“But no idea who?”
“Before my time. Is that all?”
“Speaking of abuse problems, I heard that Little’s wife had a secret of her own.”
Another pause. “She gambled. What was her name? Rhoda, Melinda?”
“Melinda. Where’d you know her from?”
“My uncle was a silent partner in several card houses in Gardenia.” A beat. “This was a long time ago. Joey let go of the casinos ten years ago. He’s dead, you know.”
“I do know.”
“Good riddance.”
“What can you tell me about Melinda Little.”
“I was sixteen. The woman was a MILF.”
“A MILF?”
“Mother I’d Like to Fuck
. Red hot. What does she look like now?”
“She’s still hot. Did her hotness get her into trouble back then?”
“Not with me, unfortunately.”
“Could there have been someone else?”
“There always could be someone else, but nothing I remember.”
“Did she owe your uncle money?”
“Decker, I didn’t keep track of her. I had just moved out to L.A. and had my own problems. If she was in hock big-time, I never knew about it.”
“How about a cop named Calvin Vitton?”
A pause. “Vaguely familiar.”
“He worked the Little case. He just blew his head off this morning.”
“If I were you, I’d look into that.”
Decker made a face, although Donatti couldn’t see it. “Thanks for the advice. Can you tell me anything about Vitton?”
“I recall that he was an old guy…” Another pause. “Let me think about him.”
“Fair enough. How about a guy named Primo Ekerling.”
“He’s a music producer,” Donatti told him. “What’d he do?”
“Someone whacked him and stuffed him into the
“You don’t recall Ekerling’s name in your mini-investigation of Little?”
“Mini-investigation…” Shriner smiled. “That’s a good term for it. I might have heard the name. If he turns out to be a lead, let me know. In the meantime, I’ve got a date with my golf clubs. It’s not as exciting as PI work, but it keeps me out of trouble.”
DECKER HAD JUST finished eating his bag lunch when Marge called, recapping the interview with Phil Shriner. When she was done, he said, “Exactly how
bad
of a gambling problem?”
Marge said, “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. I’m sure that Melinda Little is expecting your call any minute. I think you should pounce on it, Pete, before she starts thinking of some very clever excuses.”
“I’m still in Simi Valley.” Decker shifted the phone to his other ear. “Besides, I’ve got the interview with Arnie Lamar in fifteen minutes at the police station. What’s your afternoon like?”
“I have some free time.”
“Oliver and you need to pay her a visit.”
“What if she lawyers up?” Marge asked.
“Then that’ll tell us something.” Another call was coming through the line. A private number. “Someone’s breaking in, Marge. Set something up with Melinda and let me know, okay?”
“Will do. Good luck.”
Decker hung up and took the private call. “Decker.”
“What do you want?”
The low, smooth voice was instantly recognizable and made Decker sit up in the cruiser and grab his pencil and notepad. Normally, he would have thanked Donatti for calling back, but there was no such thing as chitchat with Chris. “What do you know about the Bennett Little murder?”
A long silence over the line. “You suspect me?”
“So far as I can tell, you were fifteen and in New York when it happened. Am I wrong?”
“Then why are you calling?”
“You were in L.A. when the murder was still fresh. You’re a good listener. Maybe you heard something.”
Another pause. “It was a long time ago, and I have a substance abuse problem. If I ever had any long-term memory, it’s gone by now.”
“But you remember the case.”
“A guy gets hit, you’re wondering who’s working the territory.”
“You think it was a hit?”
A small laugh came over the line. “Uh, yeah.”
“But no idea who?”
“Before my time. Is that all?”
“Speaking of abuse problems, I heard that Little’s wife had a secret of her own.”
Another pause. “She gambled. What was her name? Rhoda, Melinda?”
“Melinda. Where’d you know her from?”
“My uncle was a silent partner in several card houses in Gardenia.” A beat. “This was a long time ago. Joey let go of the casinos ten years ago. He’s dead, you know.”
“I do know.”
“Good riddance.”
“What can you tell me about Melinda Little.”
“I was sixteen. The woman was a MILF.”
“A MILF?”
“Mother I’d Like to Fuck
. Red hot. What does she look like now?”
“She’s still hot. Did her hotness get her into trouble back then?”
“Not with me, unfortunately.”
“Could there have been someone else?”
“There always could be someone else, but nothing I remember.”
“Did she owe your uncle money?”
“Decker, I didn’t keep track of her. I had just moved out to L.A. and had my own problems. If she was in hock big-time, I never knew about it.”
“How about a cop named Calvin Vitton?”
A pause. “Vaguely familiar.”
“He worked the Little case. He just blew his head off this morning.”
“If I were you, I’d look into that.”
Decker made a face, although Donatti couldn’t see it. “Thanks for the advice. Can you tell me anything about Vitton?”
“I recall that he was an old guy…” Another pause. “Let me think about him.”
“Fair enough. How about a guy named Primo Ekerling.”
“He’s a music producer,” Donatti told him. “What’d he do?”
“Someone whacked him and stuffed him into the
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