The Case of the Murdered MacKenzie: A Masao Masuto Mystery (Book Seven) by Howard Fast Page B

had to see you, Masuto, and it was on my way.”
    â€œOn your way?” Masuto asked, puzzled. “The court is in Santa Monica and you live in Encino, so how can Culver City be on your way?”
    â€œI was downtown, Masuto. The judge asked me to come to his chambers down there. He’s going to throw out the case tomorrow. I agree with him. But then, while I was there, we got the news that Eve Mackenzie is dead.”
    â€œWhat? No—Eve Mackenzie?”
    Geffner nodded.
    â€œI’ve been a fool—a total, stupid fool!” Masuto exclaimed. “A woman is dead. She was murdered.”
    â€œOh?” Geffner stared at him. “Why do you say that?”
    â€œHow did she die?”
    â€œA car accident.”
    â€œWhere?”
    Geffner stared at him thoughtfully. “Why murder?”
    â€œFirst tell me where she died and how.”
    â€œMalibu Canyon. You know the road—one of the most dangerous in the county. The story is that she was driving too fast and she went over the edge, through the guardrail, and into a seventy-foot ravine.”
    â€œWhose story? Who did you talk to?”
    â€œThe California Highway Patrol.”
    â€œMental giants.”
    â€œMasuto, they’re pretty good with accidents.”
    â€œThen why are you here?”
    â€œBecause I think what you’re thinking—that it was no accident.”
    â€œAnd you ask me why I think so?” Masuto said angrily. “This is the most idiotic frame and contrivance I have ever heard of. And you lent yourself to it, and now the woman is dead. Of course I said murder. The moment she blurted out that the man in the tub was not her husband, she was doomed.”
    â€œDon’t come down on me, Masuto. I didn’t lend myself to it. I was told what to do, and at that point I didn’t know what was valid evidence and what was not.”
    Masuto nodded. “Sorry. I should not have said that. Tell me, what was Eve Mackenzie doing at night on the Malibu Canyon Road?”
    â€œI don’t know. I would guess she was at the Fenwick Works. That appears to be the source of everything in this insane case. I want you to come with me to Malibu Canyon tonight, Masuto. I want to look at the wreck, and I want you with me.”
    â€œYou can’t be serious. I’m a Beverly Hills policeman. The accident belongs to the highway patrol, and they’re there already. If there’s any suggestion of criminal action, they’ll turn to the Malibu Sheriff’s Station. The sheriffs are not very nice people to begin with, and if they see a Beverly Hills cop putting his nose into things, they’ll skin me.”
    â€œIt’s in the county and I have jurisdiction,” Geffner said, “and if they can prove I haven’t, we’ll be out of there before they find the right page in the book. I won’t introduce you as a Beverly Hills cop. Joe Hendricks is waiting outside in my car. He’s the L.A.P.D. accident consultant, and I’ll introduce you as his assistant.”
    â€œI work for a living,” Masuto said. “All I know is being a cop and growing roses. If Wainwright hears about this—”
    â€œDamn it, Masuto, you’re doing nothing wrong. I’m asking for your help as a private citizen.”
    Masuto sighed. “All right. Wait for me outside. I’ll talk to my wife.”
    But Kati did nothing to soften Masuto’s doubts. “I didn’t want to listen, Masao,” she said, “but in this house you can’t help overhearing. It’s eleven o’clock, and you’re doing something that isn’t right, and I won’t sleep—”
    â€œWhat I’m doing is perfectly all right.”
    â€œIs it? The story you told me tonight makes me terribly afraid.”
    Masuto understood that. There was a thread of madness running through it that would make any normal person afraid.

Hendricks was a large, overweight