Blood Test by Kellerman, Jonathan

Turning to us: “Okay ?”

“The file.” Milo held out his hand.

“Get it.” She ordered and the Jamaican fetched.

“Let them look at it.”

Milo took the folder from him and we walked to

the door.

“Hey, wait a minute!” she protested hoarsely.

“That’s an active one. You can’t take it!”

“I’ll make a Xerox, mail you back the original.”

She started to argue then stopped midsentence.

As we left I could hear her screaming at Leon.

8

ACCORDING TO his file, Doug Carmichael lived in

the upscale part of Venice, near the Marina. Milo

had me call him from a phone booth near Bundy

while he used the radio to find out if anything had

come in on the Swopes.

A phone machine answered at Carmichael’s. Classical

guitar music played in the background while a

rich baritone said, “Hi, this is Doug,” and strove to

convince me that receipt of my message was really

important for his emotional well-being. I waited for

the beep, told him it was really important to call

Detective Sturgis at West L.A. Division, and left

Milo’s number.

I got back in the car and found Milo with his eyes

closed, head tilted back against the seat.

“Anything?” he asked.

“I got a machine.”

“Figures. Zilch from this end, too. No Swopes

spotted from here to San Ysidro.” He yawned and

growled and started up the Matador. “Moving right

103

104′ Jonathan Kellerman

along,” he mumbled, steering into the broth of westbound

traffic, “I haven’t eaten since six. Early dinner

or late lunch, take your pick.”

We were a couple of miles from the ocean but a

mild easterly wind was blowing and it wafted a

hint of brine our way. “How about fish?”

“Righto.”

He drove to a tiny place on Ocean at the mouth

ofthe pier that resembles a thirties diner. Some

nights during the dinner hour it’s hard to find a

parking space in the back lot among all the Rolls,

Mercedes, and Jags. They don’t take reservations or

plastic, but people who know seafood are willing to

wait and don’t mind paying with real money. At

lunch it’s significantly more relaxed and we were

seated at a corner table immediately.

Milo drank two lemonades, which they squeeze

fresh and serve unsweetened, and I nursed a

Grolsch.

“Trying to cut down,” he explained, holding up

his glass.” Rick’s been on my case, Preaching and

showing me slides of what it does to the liver.”

“That’s good. You were hitting it pretty hard for

a while. Maybe we’ll have you around a little longer.”

He grunted.

The waiter, a cheerful Hispanic, informed us that

there’d been a huge albacore run and a prime load

had come up from San Diego that morning. We

both ordered some and shortly were feasting on

huge grilled steaks of the white tuna, baked potatoes,

steamed zucchini, and chunks of sourdough

bread.

Milo devoured half his meal, took a long swallow

of lemonade, and gazed out the window. A chrome

sliver of ocean was visible above the rooftops of the

BLOOD TEST 105

ramshackle buildings that hid in the shadow of the

sagging pier.

“So how you been, pal ?” he asked.

“Not bad.”

“What do you hear from Robin ?”

“I got a card a few days ago. The Ginza at night.

They’re wining and dining her. Apparently it’s the

first time they’ve entertained a woman that way.”.

“WHat is it they’re after, exactly?” he asked.

“She designed a guitar for Rockin’ Billy Orleans

and he played it onstage in Madison Square Garden.

The music trades interviewed him after-, the

concert and he raved about the. instrument and the

fantastic female luthier who’d created it. The U.S.

rep for a Japanese conglomerate picked up on it

and sent it to his bosses. They decided it was worth

mass-producing as a Billy Orleans model and invited

her over there to talk about it.”

‘-‘Maybe she’ll end up supporting you, huh?”

“Maybe,” I said glumly and signaled the waiter

for another beer.

“I see you’re real overjoyed about it.”

“I’m happy for her,” I said quickly. “It’s’ the big

break she’s been waiting for. It’s..just that I miss

her like crazy, Milo. It’s the longest we’ve been

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