‘Thanks, sir.’

He cut the line and immediately dialled Ruben’s number in New Mexico. Harper went through the protocol to securely identify himself before outlining the situation.

‘Garrison could not only be a danger to his former wife and son,’ said Harper, ‘but he’s also a potential suspect in an ongoing case here in LA.’

‘What kind of thing?’ said Ruben.

‘Threatening parcels. The murder of a small child. And ripping the tongue out of a homeless man. Oh, and the amputation of some fingertips that have yet to be identified.’

‘Nice.’

‘So if you could put out a call for him to be arrested then –‘

‘I’m afraid that won’t be -.’ Interference on the line reduced his voice to a series of crackles.

‘I’m sorry?’ Harper walked away from Curtis and moved further down the street in an effort to improve the reception.

‘I said,’ Ruben’s voice came through clearer now. ‘I said, that won’t be necessary.’

‘Why?’

‘One of my men called in two hours ago with the information on a middle-aged white male who had been beaten to death next to his vehicle on the highway into New Mexico. He hasn’t been formally identified, but documents on his person show him to be a Charles Garrison, born May 13 1955. Whoever did it must have taken all his cash, but left everything else including his wallet.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Sorry?’

The line started to break up again.

‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me this straight away?’

‘The reception is really bad –‘

‘Never mind. Thanks.’ He cut the line. ‘Fuck,’ he said to himself again, running his hand through his hair in frustration and leaning against his car.

‘Is there a problem?’ Jennifer said walking up to him.

‘Garrison is dead. Beaten to death in New Mexico.’

‘What is going on?’ she said, her voice tinged with a note of fear.

‘I haven’t got a fucking clue,’ he said. ‘But I do know one thing. We’re being fucked with. Whoever is doing this is having a fucking great time watching us fuck around. Shit.’ He banged his fist against the bonnet of the car, causing a slight indentation. He brought his knuckles up towards his mouth. ‘Fuck, that hurt.’

He remembered the lock on the door, the map on the floor by the TV. Had someone broken into Garrison’s house in an effort to find out where he had gone? His death was certainly no coincidence. But the events of the last three weeks just didn’t seem to hold together. He tried to separate each one in sequence so as to try and gain an overview.

First Kate discovers a dead child floating outside her beach house. Then she finds out she is pregnant. Cassie Verlinger, the blind girl, is sent a package of fingertips and then Jordan Weislander opens up his icebox to find a tongue nestling amongst some cuts of veal. Now Garrison, a criminal who served time in the same prison as Gleason, is murdered, beaten to death. And then what about those other cases that had been reported to his office – the murder of the child porn enthusiast, Raymond Cutler, and the weird overdose of that drug dealer in Silverlake?

What was happening to LA? Sure, it had always been a violent city. Now it seemed like it was fast mutating into the crime capital of the world. At particularly difficult or stressful times he had wondered whether it was all worth it. Certainly he’d had that argument with Kate many times. She felt like she couldn’t take it any more. At the time, he was pleased that she had made that decision to resign from her job. Although she didn’t have to experience some of the vileness he encountered during the course of his work, he could tell that at times it was too much for her. He always maintained that he wanted to carry on. He was doing a public duty. But now? He felt like he was drowning in a tide of evil, a filthy darkness filling up his lungs. He thought of Kate. Kate and the baby she was carrying. He couldn’t let her die. Even if they never really communicated again – and, shit, why should she want to talk to him after Jules – he vowed he would protect her. And his baby. He thought of that baby girl Kate had found in the sea and was surprised by a wave of emotion that was almost too much for him to bear.

‘Josh – are you okay?’ asked Jennifer, touching him lightly on his shoulder.

‘Sorry, yep, fine. Just a bit freaked out.’ He coughed.

He called Helen on his secure line and told her the news. He gave her Garrison’s address and asked her to send over a fingerprint and forensics team.

‘And what about the addresses of the remaining four men?’

‘I’m told they will be with us in the next thirty minutes.’

‘You may need to put some pressure on. We need that information now. Otherwise –‘

‘Yes, sir?’

‘I don’t know. But I’ve got a feeling there’s something else to this case besides Gleason.’

17

The sun was beginning to set over the mountains as Kate and Cassie drove towards Hollywood. The sky split into fissures of bright yellow, bruised purple and burnished orange, and the light cast upon the hills in the distance seemed to turn the rocks a blood red. By the interchange of Hollywood and Vine hordes of tourists meandered up and down the sidewalk, some hunting out the hand and foot prints of their favourite celebrities, others moving with an aimlessness approaching catatonia. Los Angeles had a lot to answer for, thought Kate to herself, selling as it did the empty promise of the American dream through the medium of motion pictures. Perhaps mass entertainment was just as bad as organised religion.

Certainly her father used to think so – it was one of the topics guaranteed to light up the dinner table. ‘Escapism turns folks’ brains into mush,’ Saul would say. ‘Oh, don’t be such a prig,’ her mother would reply. ‘What’s wrong with taking people out of their lives and giving them the chance to dream?’ Dad said he could list a dozen or so reasons, and so the argument would start.

‘What are you thinking about?’ asked Cassie from the passenger seat.

‘I was just thinking about my dad. He hated the entertainment industry.’

‘But your mother used to –‘

‘I know, I know,’ she laughed. ‘I think it was one of those life-long differences of opinion that kept their relationship going.’ She thought of her own relationship with Josh – her former relationship with Josh, she corrected herself – and the things they used to argue about. No, she wasn’t going to allow herself to go there. She had promised not to think about him.