that,” the DA said. “But maybe Maslin can. He wants to talk to you.”
“You mean he wants to book me.”
“He didn’t a half hour ago,” the DA said. “He told me that if you called to tell you to come down. He wants to ask some questions.”
“I’ll bet that’s all he wants. If Ritter has made as big a sucker out of him as he has out of you, Maslin will throw the key away on me.”
I rammed the phone down. I lit another cigaret and dialed Maslin’s office.
He was down in the forensic lab, but I finally got him on the wire. I said, “McKeon here. The DA said you wanted to talk to me.”
Maslin sounded as unperturbed as ever. “That’s right, Jeff. Can you come down? I have something to show you. I’ll be in the lab.”
I said, “I can come down there, but how long do I have to stay?”
“If I wanted you arrested, I’d have you here by now.”
I said, “You’d have to find me first.”
He said, “That wouldn’t be difficult. Or did Stephanie Bartlett hide your car in a downtown garage just to make us think you’re staying at her place?”
I said, “Go to hell. I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”
I took a cab, leaving Stephanie’s coupe in case I wanted it for a disguise later. The cab dropped me off at the side entrance near the basement. I walked straight to the lab and into the reception room. Maslin was conferring with Tod Billings, the city’s top lab man.
I went up to them. Maslin gave me a faint smile. He said, “Don’t look so put out, Jeff. Since Griselda isn’t in town, I chose the next most likely one.”
I said again, “Go to hell.”
“By the way, Griselda called the DA’s office and left you a message,” he said.
“Now maybe I can throw all this crap back in Ritter’s face.” I reached for a phone. “I’ll let you ask her where she stands yourself.”
I dialed the DA’s extension. I said to Stephanie, “Put me through to the bossman, babydoll.”
She put me straight through. I said, “Jeff here again. What’s this about Griselda Cletis calling?”
The DA said, “From Los Angeles. She said to tell you that she’s back in town and you can call her there. She seems to think you know the number. Nothing urgent.”
I hung up on him. I said to Maslin, “Griselda’s back from the desert. Do you want to talk to her?”
He said quietly, “I already have the L.A. police checking her out, Jeff.” He nodded to Tod Billings. “Tod has something to show us. Let’s go into his lab”
Tod Billings grinned at me as we walked toward the lab. He opened the door to his lab and we went in. Quite a collection of junk littered the workbench along one wall. I could see that it was mostly metal, twisted and burned. I looked inquiringly at Tod Billings.
He said briskly, “This stuff was taken out of what was left of Johnny Itsuko’s car.”
Maslin said, “Maybe Jeff hasn’t heard.” He glanced at me. “The car was found down by the river. Whoever stole it also tried to blow it up.”
“Not quite accurate,” Billings said. He poked a finger at a particularly twisted piece of metal. “He didn’t just try to blow it up. He knew his business. This is the timing mechanism for the bomb. He had it planted in the right place. He just didn’t count on one item.”
Maslin and I both waited. When Billings had something to say about scientific crime detection, everyone listened. He said, “Itsuko drove a small English car. The demolition expert is probably used to blowing up American cars.” He grinned at us. “No offense meant, but some of those little bugs are just tougher. So he got only half as much destruction as he planned.”
I said, “You called him a demolition expert. Does that mean anything?”
“It means what it says,” Billings answered. “Whoever rigged the car was probably the same person who blew Itsuko’s toolshed and set it afire. The techniques are the same.” He touched a smaller bit of twisted, blackened metal. “This is the
“You mean he wants to book me.”
“He didn’t a half hour ago,” the DA said. “He told me that if you called to tell you to come down. He wants to ask some questions.”
“I’ll bet that’s all he wants. If Ritter has made as big a sucker out of him as he has out of you, Maslin will throw the key away on me.”
I rammed the phone down. I lit another cigaret and dialed Maslin’s office.
He was down in the forensic lab, but I finally got him on the wire. I said, “McKeon here. The DA said you wanted to talk to me.”
Maslin sounded as unperturbed as ever. “That’s right, Jeff. Can you come down? I have something to show you. I’ll be in the lab.”
I said, “I can come down there, but how long do I have to stay?”
“If I wanted you arrested, I’d have you here by now.”
I said, “You’d have to find me first.”
He said, “That wouldn’t be difficult. Or did Stephanie Bartlett hide your car in a downtown garage just to make us think you’re staying at her place?”
I said, “Go to hell. I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”
I took a cab, leaving Stephanie’s coupe in case I wanted it for a disguise later. The cab dropped me off at the side entrance near the basement. I walked straight to the lab and into the reception room. Maslin was conferring with Tod Billings, the city’s top lab man.
I went up to them. Maslin gave me a faint smile. He said, “Don’t look so put out, Jeff. Since Griselda isn’t in town, I chose the next most likely one.”
I said again, “Go to hell.”
“By the way, Griselda called the DA’s office and left you a message,” he said.
“Now maybe I can throw all this crap back in Ritter’s face.” I reached for a phone. “I’ll let you ask her where she stands yourself.”
I dialed the DA’s extension. I said to Stephanie, “Put me through to the bossman, babydoll.”
She put me straight through. I said, “Jeff here again. What’s this about Griselda Cletis calling?”
The DA said, “From Los Angeles. She said to tell you that she’s back in town and you can call her there. She seems to think you know the number. Nothing urgent.”
I hung up on him. I said to Maslin, “Griselda’s back from the desert. Do you want to talk to her?”
He said quietly, “I already have the L.A. police checking her out, Jeff.” He nodded to Tod Billings. “Tod has something to show us. Let’s go into his lab”
Tod Billings grinned at me as we walked toward the lab. He opened the door to his lab and we went in. Quite a collection of junk littered the workbench along one wall. I could see that it was mostly metal, twisted and burned. I looked inquiringly at Tod Billings.
He said briskly, “This stuff was taken out of what was left of Johnny Itsuko’s car.”
Maslin said, “Maybe Jeff hasn’t heard.” He glanced at me. “The car was found down by the river. Whoever stole it also tried to blow it up.”
“Not quite accurate,” Billings said. He poked a finger at a particularly twisted piece of metal. “He didn’t just try to blow it up. He knew his business. This is the timing mechanism for the bomb. He had it planted in the right place. He just didn’t count on one item.”
Maslin and I both waited. When Billings had something to say about scientific crime detection, everyone listened. He said, “Itsuko drove a small English car. The demolition expert is probably used to blowing up American cars.” He grinned at us. “No offense meant, but some of those little bugs are just tougher. So he got only half as much destruction as he planned.”
I said, “You called him a demolition expert. Does that mean anything?”
“It means what it says,” Billings answered. “Whoever rigged the car was probably the same person who blew Itsuko’s toolshed and set it afire. The techniques are the same.” He touched a smaller bit of twisted, blackened metal. “This is the
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