Blood Test by Kellerman, Jonathan

any nasty surprises so far—apparently Moody’s crazy

but not stupid. But she’s mega-pissed about the

whole thing. She called the D.A. and ordered him

to get someone on it. He dumped it on Foothill

Division.”

“Who said they’d been looking for him already.”

“Right.” He looked surprised. I told him about

Milo’s call to Fordebrand.

“Very impressive, Alex. More?” He picked up

the bottle. I declined a refill. Good Scotch is hard

to resist but talking about Moody reminds me of

the importance of staying clear-headed.

“Anyway, Foothill claims to be looking for him

seriously but they think he’s gone into Angeles

Crest.”

“Wonderful.”

Angeles Crest National Forest is 600,000 acres of

wilderness bordering the city to the north. The

Moodys had lived in nearby Sunland, and the forest

would be familiar territory to Richard, a natural

.place to escape. Much of the acreage was

impenetrable except on foot and a man could stay

lost there for as long as he pleased. It was a haven

for hikers, campers, naturalists, and climbers; as

well as for packs of outlaw bikers who partied all

166 Jonathan Kel/erman

night and sacked out in caves And its ravines and

washes were favorite dumping spots for bodies.’

Just before we’d scuffled in the court parking lot,

Moody’d talked about surviving in the wilderness,

,clearly including his children in the ,fantasy. I let

Mai know that.

He nodded .grimly.

“I’ve instructed Darlene to take the kids and get

out of town for a while. Her folks have a farm up

near Davis. They’re leaving today.”

“Won’t he be able to figure that out?”

“If he comes out in the open. I’m hoping he

decides to play mountain man for a while.”

He threw up his arms.

“It’s the best I can do, Alex.”

The conversation was taking an unsettling turn. I

got up to go and we shook hands. At the door I

asked him if he’d ever heard of a lawyer named

Norman Matthews.

“Stormin’ Norman? That’s a golden oldie. I went

up against him at least a dozen times. Biggest

ballbreaker in Beverly Hills,”

“He was a divorce lawyer?”

-“The best. Super-aggressive, had a reputation for

getting his clients what they wanted no matter who

he offended in the process. Handled lots of Hollywood

dissolutions with big bucks at stake and got to

thinking of himself as a star. Very image conscious–an

Excalibur and a Corniche, conspicuous clothes,

blonds on each arm, blew Downhill latakia through a

thousand-dollar meerschaum.”

“He’s a bit more spiritual nowadays.”

“Yeah, I heard. Got a weird group down on the

border. Calls himself Grand Noble Poobah or something

like that.”

BLOOD Test

“Noble Matthias. Why’d he leave law?”

He laughed uneasilY.

“You might say it left him. This was five or six

years ago. It was in the papers. I’m surprised you

don’t remember. Matthews was representing the

wife of some playwright. The guy had just hit it

big–a smash on Broadway–after ten years of eating

air sandwiches. At that point the wife found

another loser to mother and filed. Matthews got her

everything–a huge chunk of royalties from the play

and a healthy percentage of everything the guy

would bring in for the next ten years. It was a

publicized case and there was a press conference

scheduled on the courtroom steps, Matthews and

the wife were headed there when hubby came out

of nowhere with a twenty-two. He shot them both

in the head. She died but Matthews squeaked by

after half a year of touch and go, Then he dropped

out of sight, resurfaced a couple of years later as a

maharishi. Your basic California story.”

I thanked him. for the information and turned to

leave.

“Hey,” he asked, “why the interest?”

“Nothing important. His name came up in conversation.”

“Stormin’ Norman,” he smiled. “Sanctification

through brain damage.”‘

13

THE NEXT morning, Milo knocked on my door and

woke me at six forty-five. The sky was alley-cat

gray. It had rained all night and the air smelled like

damp flannel. The glen harbored a relentless chill

that seeped into my bones the moment I opened the

door.

He wore a thin shiny black raincoat over a wrinkled

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