“I want to see Detective Thomas.”
I took out my press identification.
“Denver,” the cop said, in case I had forgotten where I was from. “Let me see if he’s back there. He expecting you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“What’s Denver got to do with—yeah, Ed Thomas back there? Got one here from Denver to see him.”
He listened for a few moments, creased his brow at whatever information he was being given and then hung up.
“Okay. Go on down the hall. Second door on the left.”
I thanked him and headed down the hallway. Along both walls were dozens of framed black-and-white publicity shots of entertainers interspersed among photos of police softball teams and officers killed in the line of duty. The door I was told to go to was marked HOMICIDE. I knocked, waited a beat for a reply and then opened the door and stepped in when I didn’t get one.
Rachel was sitting behind one of the six desks in the room. The others were empty.
“Hello, Jack.”
I nodded. I wasn’t that surprised to see her.
“What are you doing here?”
“That should be obvious, since you’ve obviously been waiting for me. Where’s Thomas?”
“He’s safe.”
“Why all the lies?”
“What lies?”
“Thorson said Gladden was not a suspect. He said he was checked out and dropped. That’s why I came out. I thought he was either wrong or lying. Why didn’t you call me, Rachel? This whole thing—”
“Jack, I was busy with Thomas and I knew if I called anyway, I’d have to lie to you and I didn’t want to.”
“So, you just had Thorson do it. Great. Thanks. That makes it better.”
“Stop being a baby. I had more to worry about than your feelings. I’m sorry. Look, I’m here, aren’t I? Why do you think that is?”
I hiked my shoulders.
“I knew you’d come no matter what Gordon told you,” she said. “I know you, Jack. All I had to do was call the airlines. Once I knew your ETA, all I had to do was wait. I only hope that Gladden wasn’t out there watching the place. You were on TV with us. That means he probably thinks you are an agent. If he saw you come in here he’ll know we’re running a setup.”
“But if he was out there and close enough to see me, then you’d have him now, right? Because you’ve got a twenty-four-hour watch for him on the outside of this place.”
She smiled thinly. I had guessed right.
She picked a two-way radio up off the desk and called her command post. I recognized the voice that came back. It was Backus. She told him she was coming in with a visitor. She then ended the call and stood up.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“The command post. Not too far.”
Her voice was curt, clipped. It was cold toward me and I found it hard to believe that I had made love to this woman less than twenty-four hours earlier. It was as if I was a stranger to her now. I kept quiet as we walked through a back hallway of the station and to an employee parking lot in the rear where she had a car waiting.
“I’ve got a car out front,” I said.
“Well, you’ll have to leave it for now. Unless you want to stay on your own and keep doing the cowboy shit.”
“Look, Rachel, if I hadn’t been lied to this might not have happened. I might not even have come.”
“Sure.”
She got in and started the car and then unlocked my door. It always annoyed me when people did that to me but I didn’t say anything when I got in. She headed out of the lot and up toward Sunset Boulevard with a heavy foot on the gas. She didn’t speak until a red light forced her to stop the car.
“How did you know that name, Jack?” she asked.
“What name?” I replied, though I knew.
“Gladden, Jack. William Gladden.”
“I did my homework. How did you people come up with it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Rachel. . . Look, this is me, okay? We made, uh. . .” I couldn’t say it out loud for fear it would sound like a lie. “I thought there was something between us, Rachel. Now you’re acting like I’m some kind of leper or something. I don’t. . . Look, is it information you want? I’ll tell you all I know. I figured it out from the newspapers. Big story on this guy Gladden in the L.A. Times on Saturday. Okay? The story said he knew Horace the Hypnotist in Raiford. I just put two and two together. It wasn’t hard.”
“Okay, Jack.”
“Now you.”
Silence.
“Rachel?”
“Are we off the record?”
“You know you don’t have to ask me that.”
She hesitated a moment and then seemed to relent. She began.
“We arrived at Gladden through two separate leads that just happened to click at the same time. That gives us a high sense of reliability that he’s our man. First, the car. Automotive ID traced the stereo serial number to a car which, in turn, was traced to Hertz? You remember this?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Matuzak and Mize went down to the airport and traced the car. Some snowbirds from Chicago had already rerented it. They had to go up to Sedona to get it back. It’s been processed. Nothing usable from it. The stereo and window had been replaced. But not by Hertz. Hertz never knew about the break-in. Whoever had the car when the break-in occurred replaced the window and the stereo on their own. Anyway, the rental records put the car in the hands of an N.H. Breedlove for five days this month, including the day Orsulak was killed. This Breedlove turned it in the day after. Matuzak put the name on the computer and got a hit on the ID net. Nathan H. Breedlove was an AKA turned up during the investigation of William Gladden in Florida seven years ago. It was a name used by a man who had placed ads in the papers in Tampa offering his services as a children’s photographer. He molested the kids when left alone with them, took dirty pictures. He wore disguises. The Tampa police were looking for this Breedlove at the same time the Gladden case broke. The molestations at the child care center. The investigators always believed Gladden was Breedlove but they never made a case because of the disguises. Besides, they didn’t press it because they thought he’d be going away to prison for a long time on the other case.
“Anyway, once we had Gladden’s name from the ID net’s alias data bank, from there we picked up the wanted that LAPD put out on NCIC last week. And here we are.”
“It seems. . .”
“Too easy? Well, sometimes you make your own luck.”
“You said that before.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Why would he use an alias that he must’ve known was on file somewhere?”
“A lot of these people find comfort in tradition. Plus, he’s a cocky son of a bitch. We know that from the fax.”
“But he used a whole new alias when he was arrested by Santa Monica police last week. Why would he—”
“I’m only telling you what we know, Jack. If he’s as smart as we think he is, then he probably has several ID packages. They wouldn’t be hard to come by. We have the Phoenix field office working on a subpoena for Hertz. We want Breedlove’s complete renting history going back three years. He’s a Hertz Gold customer no less. Again it shows how smart he is. Most airports, you get off the plane, walk to the Gold lot and your name is on the board. You go to your car and the keys are in it. Most of the time you don’t even have to talk to any clerks. You just get in your car, show your license at the gate and you are out of there.”