Read Online Vigilante by Stephen J. Cannell - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen J. Cannell
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wasn’t exactly a trip to the movies, but it was better than going to the chop shop to watch the opening.
Once I was outside, I saw the V-TV van parked at the curb across the street. Nix Nash was doing another stand-up, this time with the new Hollenbeck station behind him. He had definitely settled on our case.
His producer, Laura Burke, was watching over the shot, supervising her cameramen. When she spotted me, she leaned forward and whispered something to Nash. He stopped his rant and turned. Then he glanced at Laura and drew a finger across his throat, signaling her to stop filming. He handed his mike to an assistant and walked across the street, stopping at the chain link.
I walked the twenty yards or so to the edge of the lot to meet him. We stood two feet apart on opposite sides of the galvanized fence.
“I saw you arrested them,” he said.
I didn’t have anything to say to this guy, so I just stood there.
“Stuck for a response?” He grinned. “Here’s one that might work. How ’bout, ‘Thanks, Nix, I appreciate all the great help’?”
“You knew Lita, didn’t you?” I said, and watched him carefully for a reaction.
He favored me with a small sad smile. “Of course I knew her. She was doing important work, keeping you guys honest. Back when I still practiced law in this town, she often helped out on cases I was doing.” The smile died. “I’m going to miss her. But more than that, I’m going to catch her killer.”
“I’d advise you not to interfere. That is obstructing justice. You start an unauthorized vigilante investigation, you’ll think City Hall fell on you.”
“So I’m supposed to leave the investigation of my friend up to the very people I think might be responsible for her death?”
“The police didn’t kill Ms. Mendez,” I said softly. “You’re the one who gave me the Carla Sanchez lead.”
“In a homicide investigation I’m sure you’ve discovered some things aren’t quite as obvious as they appear on the surface.”
I let that pass, then said, “I pull up at nine fifteen A.M. , you’re already up the street interviewing Edwin Chavaria. That’s excellent response time, even for you. Wanta set my mind at ease about that?”
“If that’s some sort of accusation that I might have something to do with this, then yes, let me put your mind at rest. I was in Florida yesterday hosting a fund-raiser at the Boca Raton Rape Clinic. You can Google it and check me out. The pictures online are great. I took an early flight and landed at eight this morning. Are three thousand miles enough of an alibi for Nix Nash, Detective?”
He was back to the third person and being damn snotty about it.
“I was supposed to take Lita to breakfast after I landed this morning. Laura and my camera crew picked me up at the airport, brought me here. After breakfast we were going to set up for an interview. Lita had agreed to be a show resource for us. She knew a lot of things about L.A. and the cops here. When we got to her house at a little before nine, patrol officers were already stringing yellow tape. Maybe my showing up was divine intervention, because I’m beginning to think maybe I’m the only one here who really gives a darn who killed her.”
“You need to stop taking yourself so seriously,” I said. I had nothing more, so I turned to leave. He called after me.
“Hey, Shane? Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?” I replied, turning back. He had ditched the sad, funereal expression and was now wearing an excited, hopeful look, like a teenaged boy watching his first stripper.
“I think deep down, on some level, we all know what’s coming in the future,” he began. “Like those stories you read about people who clean out their closets or straighten up the garage and a day later get hit by a bus. The family comes in and everything’s all packed up neat and ready to go. I have a theory the reason stuff like that happens is because intuitively we can all sense the
Once I was outside, I saw the V-TV van parked at the curb across the street. Nix Nash was doing another stand-up, this time with the new Hollenbeck station behind him. He had definitely settled on our case.
His producer, Laura Burke, was watching over the shot, supervising her cameramen. When she spotted me, she leaned forward and whispered something to Nash. He stopped his rant and turned. Then he glanced at Laura and drew a finger across his throat, signaling her to stop filming. He handed his mike to an assistant and walked across the street, stopping at the chain link.
I walked the twenty yards or so to the edge of the lot to meet him. We stood two feet apart on opposite sides of the galvanized fence.
“I saw you arrested them,” he said.
I didn’t have anything to say to this guy, so I just stood there.
“Stuck for a response?” He grinned. “Here’s one that might work. How ’bout, ‘Thanks, Nix, I appreciate all the great help’?”
“You knew Lita, didn’t you?” I said, and watched him carefully for a reaction.
He favored me with a small sad smile. “Of course I knew her. She was doing important work, keeping you guys honest. Back when I still practiced law in this town, she often helped out on cases I was doing.” The smile died. “I’m going to miss her. But more than that, I’m going to catch her killer.”
“I’d advise you not to interfere. That is obstructing justice. You start an unauthorized vigilante investigation, you’ll think City Hall fell on you.”
“So I’m supposed to leave the investigation of my friend up to the very people I think might be responsible for her death?”
“The police didn’t kill Ms. Mendez,” I said softly. “You’re the one who gave me the Carla Sanchez lead.”
“In a homicide investigation I’m sure you’ve discovered some things aren’t quite as obvious as they appear on the surface.”
I let that pass, then said, “I pull up at nine fifteen A.M. , you’re already up the street interviewing Edwin Chavaria. That’s excellent response time, even for you. Wanta set my mind at ease about that?”
“If that’s some sort of accusation that I might have something to do with this, then yes, let me put your mind at rest. I was in Florida yesterday hosting a fund-raiser at the Boca Raton Rape Clinic. You can Google it and check me out. The pictures online are great. I took an early flight and landed at eight this morning. Are three thousand miles enough of an alibi for Nix Nash, Detective?”
He was back to the third person and being damn snotty about it.
“I was supposed to take Lita to breakfast after I landed this morning. Laura and my camera crew picked me up at the airport, brought me here. After breakfast we were going to set up for an interview. Lita had agreed to be a show resource for us. She knew a lot of things about L.A. and the cops here. When we got to her house at a little before nine, patrol officers were already stringing yellow tape. Maybe my showing up was divine intervention, because I’m beginning to think maybe I’m the only one here who really gives a darn who killed her.”
“You need to stop taking yourself so seriously,” I said. I had nothing more, so I turned to leave. He called after me.
“Hey, Shane? Do you feel it?”
“Feel what?” I replied, turning back. He had ditched the sad, funereal expression and was now wearing an excited, hopeful look, like a teenaged boy watching his first stripper.
“I think deep down, on some level, we all know what’s coming in the future,” he began. “Like those stories you read about people who clean out their closets or straighten up the garage and a day later get hit by a bus. The family comes in and everything’s all packed up neat and ready to go. I have a theory the reason stuff like that happens is because intuitively we can all sense the
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