else?”
“You are the first.”
“Don’t I feel special. Okay. What’s
the address?”
“12043 Franklin Avenue, Apartment 2C,”
said Raja, reading a piece of mail.
“Don’t touch anything. I’ll be
there in thirty minutes.”
Meanwhile, Vinny drove to Long Beach to look for
evidence on the boat. She found it still docked at the Alamitos Bay
Yacht Club waiting to be claimed. Clarice Hope had not had the
stomach to retrieve it yet. Vinny climbed on board and began a
methodical search, top to bottom. She found nothing useful until she
noticed a shiny metallic object wedged into a drain channel on the
lower deck. She pried up what turned out to be a cap for one of those
stainless steel Starbucks drink containers. The bottle was nowhere to
be found.
After securing the cap in a plastic bag, Vinny
called Raja. He was still in the girl’s apartment waiting for
Detective Rafferty.
“Vinny. I hope you did better than I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“I found the girl. But, someone else found
her, too. She’s dead. Looks like an overdose.”
“Convenient.”
“That’s my word for the day. I’m
waiting for the detectives. So?”
“I found a cap.”
“A baseball cap?”
“No, silly. The screw cap to one of those
metal thermos bottles.”
“I don’t remember any mention of a
bottle in the police report.”
“That’s just it—no bottle on
board, no bottle on the evidence list.”
“How did they miss the cap?”
“It was wedged tight in a runoff, and looked
like it could have been part of the boat. I studied detailed pictures
of the boat online before I spotted it. Got it bagged and tagged, as
they say.”
“You are awesome as usual,” said Raja.
Vinny smiled.
“Take it straight to Dr. Becker for tests.
Rafferty will be here soon. I’ll get a ride with him and meet
you later at the police station. Nice work.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, yeah. Can you get me everything you can
find on Jennifer Gowan?”
“Sure.” Vinny’s smile broadened.
She loved to help.
Raja continued to search the dead girl’s room.
Besides a rich taste in clothes, there was nothing specific that
jumped out. She lived alone, and from the look of the place, probably
didn’t spend much time at home. Then he noticed something under
her right hand on the rug. It was an unused pack of matches embossed
with the letters HCC on a shield. Raja recognized the logo. The
Hillcrest Country Club was one of the most exclusive clubs in LA.
This girl was not the country club type, unless she was working
there. Raja heard someone coming down the hall and stepped away from
the dead girl, slipping the matches into his pocket.
“Raja?”
“In here.”
Detective Rafferty shuffled through the doorway into
the apartment, followed by two uniformed officers. “Clear the
place,” ordered Rafferty. “No offense,” he said to
Raja.
“Standard procedure. None taken.”
The two officers fanned out to check all the rooms.
“Definitely dead,” noted Rafferty.
“Looks like three or four days. You say there is a connection
to Randall Hope?”
“Yes, there is. Vinny found something on the
boat that I’m hoping will confirm Randall Hope’s death
was a murder.”
“And you claim to be my friend.”
“You may end up thanking me.”
“That I’d like to see.”
“After talking to the coroner I traced two
calls from Jennifer Gowan’s phone to the coroner’s office
and the lab. And I’ll bet the authorization faxed in to release
the body came from that machine as well.” Raja pointed to a
portable fax machine sitting on the desk in the corner.
Rafferty walked over and picked up a cell phone from
the desk. “This phone?”
“Yes.”
“Looks like a drugstore burner. Why would she
keep a burner phone that we could trace right to her?”
“I think someone hired her to make the calls,
and then told her to keep the phone so they could reach her. Maybe
for a final payment for her services. Instead, they used it to
“You are the first.”
“Don’t I feel special. Okay. What’s
the address?”
“12043 Franklin Avenue, Apartment 2C,”
said Raja, reading a piece of mail.
“Don’t touch anything. I’ll be
there in thirty minutes.”
Meanwhile, Vinny drove to Long Beach to look for
evidence on the boat. She found it still docked at the Alamitos Bay
Yacht Club waiting to be claimed. Clarice Hope had not had the
stomach to retrieve it yet. Vinny climbed on board and began a
methodical search, top to bottom. She found nothing useful until she
noticed a shiny metallic object wedged into a drain channel on the
lower deck. She pried up what turned out to be a cap for one of those
stainless steel Starbucks drink containers. The bottle was nowhere to
be found.
After securing the cap in a plastic bag, Vinny
called Raja. He was still in the girl’s apartment waiting for
Detective Rafferty.
“Vinny. I hope you did better than I did.”
“What do you mean?”
“I found the girl. But, someone else found
her, too. She’s dead. Looks like an overdose.”
“Convenient.”
“That’s my word for the day. I’m
waiting for the detectives. So?”
“I found a cap.”
“A baseball cap?”
“No, silly. The screw cap to one of those
metal thermos bottles.”
“I don’t remember any mention of a
bottle in the police report.”
“That’s just it—no bottle on
board, no bottle on the evidence list.”
“How did they miss the cap?”
“It was wedged tight in a runoff, and looked
like it could have been part of the boat. I studied detailed pictures
of the boat online before I spotted it. Got it bagged and tagged, as
they say.”
“You are awesome as usual,” said Raja.
Vinny smiled.
“Take it straight to Dr. Becker for tests.
Rafferty will be here soon. I’ll get a ride with him and meet
you later at the police station. Nice work.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, yeah. Can you get me everything you can
find on Jennifer Gowan?”
“Sure.” Vinny’s smile broadened.
She loved to help.
Raja continued to search the dead girl’s room.
Besides a rich taste in clothes, there was nothing specific that
jumped out. She lived alone, and from the look of the place, probably
didn’t spend much time at home. Then he noticed something under
her right hand on the rug. It was an unused pack of matches embossed
with the letters HCC on a shield. Raja recognized the logo. The
Hillcrest Country Club was one of the most exclusive clubs in LA.
This girl was not the country club type, unless she was working
there. Raja heard someone coming down the hall and stepped away from
the dead girl, slipping the matches into his pocket.
“Raja?”
“In here.”
Detective Rafferty shuffled through the doorway into
the apartment, followed by two uniformed officers. “Clear the
place,” ordered Rafferty. “No offense,” he said to
Raja.
“Standard procedure. None taken.”
The two officers fanned out to check all the rooms.
“Definitely dead,” noted Rafferty.
“Looks like three or four days. You say there is a connection
to Randall Hope?”
“Yes, there is. Vinny found something on the
boat that I’m hoping will confirm Randall Hope’s death
was a murder.”
“And you claim to be my friend.”
“You may end up thanking me.”
“That I’d like to see.”
“After talking to the coroner I traced two
calls from Jennifer Gowan’s phone to the coroner’s office
and the lab. And I’ll bet the authorization faxed in to release
the body came from that machine as well.” Raja pointed to a
portable fax machine sitting on the desk in the corner.
Rafferty walked over and picked up a cell phone from
the desk. “This phone?”
“Yes.”
“Looks like a drugstore burner. Why would she
keep a burner phone that we could trace right to her?”
“I think someone hired her to make the calls,
and then told her to keep the phone so they could reach her. Maybe
for a final payment for her services. Instead, they used it to
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