had plans to torch your place and somebody followed
him, caught him in the act, and took him
out.” He thought for a moment. “There was a triangle,
right? How do you like the boyfriend for the
shooter role?”
20 Jonathan- Kell
“He didn’t seem the type to stalk a man tike
that.”
“Full name,” said Hardy, pen poised.
“Carlton Conley. He’s a carpenter for Aurora Studios.
He and Moody were friends before it triangulated.”
Hardy scribbled. “Did he move in with the Wife?’?
“Yes. They’re all supposed to be up near Davis.
On the advice of her lawyer.”
“The lawyer’s name?”
“Malcolm J. Worthy. Beverly Hills.”
“Better call him,” said Milo. “If Moody had a list
he’d be on it. Find out. the number up in Davis and
check out if anything went down there–shes still
next of kin, has to be notified anyway. Have the
local law go over there and read her face–see if
she’s surprised by the news. Call the judge, too.
Anyone else you can think of, Alex ?”
“There was another psychologist involved in the
case. Dr. Lawrence Daschoff. Lives in Brentwood.
Office in Santa Monica.” I knew Larry’s office number
by heart and gave it to them.
“What about Moody’s own lawyer?” asked Del.
“If the joker thought his case had been botched he
might lash out, right?”
“True. The guy’s name is Durkin. Emil or Elton
or something like that.” ‘
A grimace of recognition crossed the black detective’s
face.
“Elridge,” he growled. “Fucker represented my
ex-wife. Cleaned me out.”
“Well, then,” laughed Milo, “you can have the
pleasure of interviewing him. Or consoling his
widow.”
BLOOD TEST 23i
Hardy grumbled, closed his pad, and went into
the kitchen and left to make the calls.
A crime scene tech beckoned from the door and
Milo patted my shoulder and went out to talk to
him. He returned in a few minutes.
“They found tire tracks,” he said. “Fat ones, hke
on a hot rod. Ring any bells ?”
“Moody drove a truck,”
“They already looked at his wheels. No match.”
“Nothing else comes to mind.”
“There were six more gas cans in the truck, which
supports the hit list theory. But it also doesn’t
make sense. He was ing to use three cans here.
.Let’s assume that he planned this out as some kind
of structured revenge ritual, three cans per victim.
Given a minimum of five victims–you, the other
shrink, both lawyers, and the judge, that adds up to
fifteen cans. Six left means nine used. Not count°
ing you, that makes two prior attempts. If he planned
on torching the family home, make it twelve and
three possible priors. Even if the numbers are wrong
it’s unlikely you were singled out for more gas than
anyone else. Which means you probably weren’t his
first stop. Why would the shooter follow him around
town, watch him set two or three fires, risk being
seen, and wait until the third to do-the job?”
I puzzled over that.
· “Only thing I can think of,” I said, “is this is a
pretty secluded area. Lots of big trees, easy for a
sniper to hide.”
“Maybe,” he said skeptically. “We’ll pursue the
tire angle. The Hot Rod Killer. Catchy.”
He chewed on a hangnail, looked at me gravely.
“Got any enemies I don’t know about, pal?”
My stomach lurched. He’d put into words what
22
]omtum Kelt .erm
bd been fulminating in my mind. That I was:the
intended victim..,
“Just the Casa de Los Ninos guys, and they’re
behind bars. No one on the streets that I know of.”
“Way the system runs you never know whether
they’re on the streets or not. We’ll run parole checks
on .all of them. Which’ll be in my best interests,
too.”
He sipped coffee and leaned forward.
“1 don’t want to raise your anxiety level, Alex,
but there’s something we should deal with. Remember
when you called me about the rat and I
asked you-to describe Moody? You told me you and
he were almost exactly the same size and coloring.”
I nodded numbly.
“You’ve been in the house all day, sick in bed.
Someone arriving after dark wouldn’t have known