Dying For LA by Ian Jones (top fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

knew it. The other channels had barely turned up in comparison. If she could just track this man down and run a piece on him she could name her price, and the nationals would come calling. Moran would have no choice but to back her. She thought about Jimmy Frost and his blatant leering, knowing what he believed was on the table. She shook her head and looked away, she would have to toughen up.

Whatever it takes, she told herself. This was a fresh start, and could be the last one she would ever get. Whatever it takes.

***

They were driving down Alameda Street when Keane’s mobile started to warble. Warner was driving with Judy next to him, John and Keane in the back. They all automatically checked their phones.

‘Me!’ Keane announced and held it to his ear.

‘Hello.’

He listened for a while and then gestured for something to write with. Judy produced a pad and pen and Keane started writing, listening intently, grunting and nodding. It took a while but eventually he asked for everything to be emailed across and hung up the call, the notepad had a long list written on the page.

‘OK, we got the IDs of the victims. The five women, and we know who they all are.’

He scrutinised the list.

‘First look nothing of any real interest. The two that stand out are a Deanna Hayter and a Madeline White. Deanna was thirty-three and just married an army major three weeks ago. Madeline was forty and a high-class hooker. Of the other women, I got a doctor, a nurse and a restaurant manager.’

‘Any records?’ Judy asked.

‘Well, that is interesting because both Deanna and Madeline do, but nothing on the others.’

‘What for?’ John asked.

‘Madeline is straightforward, she worked Vegas for years, so she got a string of soliciting misdemeanours, no real prison time. Deanna was a stripper, again in Vegas. Her maiden name is Clark. She’s also got priors for soliciting, but doesn’t look serious. Seems like they were friends, from their final locations they were the two women close to John on the platform.’

‘Deanna Hayter just married an army major?’ Judy asked.

‘Yeah. In Vegas. I don’t have any real details, but he has been informed.’

‘What about the other three women, Ron?’ asked Warner.

‘Right, Christa Vorchek, forty-eight, married, one daughter, she was a doctor. Fiona Bright, thirty-one, married, no kids, a nurse. Her and Christa were travelling together, they just ended a shift at USC hospital. Then there was Jane Elliot, thirty, unmarried, manages the Deluxe Grill. Staff there say she left before her shift ended, she wasn’t feeling too good.’

‘Hmmm, anything in that I wonder. You know, that she left early,’ Judy wondered.

‘Could be I guess,’ Keane scribbled a note on the pad. ‘So, assuming for now Christa and Fiona are in the clear we got Deanna, Madeline and Jane to look into, or have I missed something?’

‘I don’t think so, no,’ Judy replied.

The rabbit warren of Imperial Courts slid past the windows of the car, and then further down Warner turned left and with several turns followed a couple of streets before pulling over to the kerb.

‘Got to be careful here,’ Warner said grimly. ‘These motherfuckers always got a point to prove.’

John looked around. It was a street among several similar with low single storey houses on both sides, all of them identical. On several porches groups of young people were sitting, male and female, mostly black. They looked relaxed, but isolated in their respective groups. A motorbike came down the road from the opposite direction, and pulled a wheelie halfway along, the bike almost completely upright, rider with his head hanging off the side, no crash helmet. Several people whooped and cheered.

‘What number you got?’ asked Keane.

‘I got 1163,’ Judy replied, and Warner rolled slowly down the street as they checked the numbers, until he stopped dead. They were looking at two burnt-out houses, side by side.

‘That’s it,’ Warner told them, pointing at the left-hand ruin.

They got out the car and walked over. It was obvious the fires had occurred a long time previously. Both sites were little more than burnt scattered bricks and remains of timbers, but there were weeds and long grass everywhere.

‘Real clever right? Let’s go,’ Warner urged, aware they were attracting interest. He knew only too well how quickly the local residents could react, and most of them would be carrying guns.

They got back in the car and drove off.

‘Well, I know Kong got arrested for arson, but I don’t think we can make that work,’ John said as they cruised back to Santa Monica.

Keane shook his head.

‘No way, that’s got to be five years old, probably more.’

‘It shows how organised they are, Perez must have shown his ID, and that was what he had. Already set up and ready to go.’ Judy said.

‘Probably his passport, and he just gave that address. But yeah, it proves they know what they’re doing, 1163 would have checked out through the system as valid, nothing on the PD computers to say the place is a pile of ash.’ Warner told them.

‘So, we got nothing,’ Keane sullenly repeated what he had told them earlier but John shook his head.

‘You’re wrong. Let’s focus on the women, got to be something there.’

Chapter Eight

By the time they had fought the traffic and they finally got back to the hotel it was past seven, so they decided to go straight out for dinner. They ate at the bar, and afterward Judy wanted to go back to her room. She had a case going to trial in a couple of days and wanted to make sure her team was fully briefed. Warner went with her, he wanted to Skype his family, which left John and Keane sitting at a table next to the window.

The bar had been done out with a supposedly tropical feel, the staff all wore Hawaiian shirts, there were lots of plastic palm leaves and coconuts everywhere with a simple seafood menu and a long cocktail list.

‘This used