Cleaning Up Chapter 9
"Come on, Lola," Bradford cajoles, "we both know you see everything going down on the boulevard. Did you see anyone scoping out Hollywood Hullaballoo?"
The six-foot tall prostitute, even taller in five-inch heels, looks down sympathetically at Tim. "Sergeant, if I saw anything I would tell you. I don't need no mad bomber messing with my territory. Since this crap started my business has been down 70%. And one of the kids who died in that supermarket belonged to a friend of mine. But I was involved in a transaction from about three am to six am. So if the bomb was planted then, I wouldn't have seen anybody. But I have an idea who might."
"Who?" Tim demands.
Lola points up to a window. "Old Lady Kelly. She used to be in the trade but retired years back. Some rich john became attached and left her a bundle when he kicked. She doesn't get out much anymore, but she still keeps the hours and watches out for us girls. She can spot twisted a mile away. If someone was prowling around down here, she could have seen him."
"Will she talk to me?" Tim asks.
"No, but she'll talk to me, especially if I bring her a breakfast burrito from Toro's. She loves them. But you'll have to pay for the burrito. As I said, business is down."
"Fine," Tim agrees. "Let's get it."
"Did she see anyone?" Tim asks impatiently when Lola returns from the upstairs apartment.
"She said there was a guy on the boulevard around four am. He was going toward Hollywood Hullaballoo carrying a box. But she was thinking more of drugs than bombs. That's what deliveries at early hours usually are around here."
"Could she describe him?"
"Better, she got a picture. She has a new phone with one of those low-light cameras. And with all the signs and everything, it's never really dark around here anyway. She texted it to me." Lola holds up her phone. "That's him."
Tim views the tall black man with painstakingly plaited braids. He's seen him before but where? An image flies into his mind of a man talking to Wesley Evers in the hallway near the division interview room. When he was defending scum, Wesley was always talking to someone there. Tim hadn't paid much attention. He wishes he had."
"I need you to text the guy's picture to me," Tim instructs Lola. "I have to send it to someone I think can identify him."
"Sure thing, Sugar," Lola agrees. "The sooner I can start taking care of business again, the better."
Wesley's eyes widen and the container of coffee he's holding sloshes over the rim when he stares at the image Tim texted. "Are you all right?" fellow ADA Chris Sanford asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Wesley shakes his head. "I wish this guy was a ghost or burning in hell and his boss with him. This is Jaleel Morgan, Elijah Stone's right hand man. If he's the one planting bombs, then Elijah Stone's behind the whole operation."
"Why would a drug dealer be planting bombs?" Sanford questions.
"I don't know," Wesley admits. "With Elijah, it's always wheels within wheels, using the system against itself. If he's the one behind the bombings, he has more reason than just spreading terror. I've got to send this to Sergeant Grey right now. The LAPD and the FBI could be looking in the wrong direction."
Grey drives up alongside John's shop. "I need to talk to you off the air. We have new evidence that Elijah Stone may be involved with the bombings. And given that he tied up with Rosalind's acolyte Ellen Sims, right after she was watching your house, you could be right in the middle of this, Nolan."
"Which means Rosalind set the ball rolling for something big before she died," John figures. "But what could she have told Ellen Sims that Elijah Stone would care about?"
"The man's a drug dealer. If he orders a hit, it's just part of doing business," Grey puts in. "Rosalind was a serial killer who enjoyed torturing her victims. Stone enjoys pulling the strings, but not like that."
"Unless Rosalind left something behind that Stone thinks he can use to pull them. And Ellen Sims was watching my house. Could Elijah be planting bombs as a distraction to get something Rosalind hid there?"
"She was obsessed with you," Grey recalls.
"It's monstrous, but in the long run, Stone's drugs are responsible for even more death than the bombs. He has no conscience. And Rosalind knew that Armstrong planted drugs and money in my wall. So she'd know it would be possible to conceal something there. Perhaps she told Sims, and Sims told Elijah. It all fits – like some horrific jigsaw puzzle."
"But the last bomb failed. If it was Elijah, he could be looking to plant another one," Grey points out.
John presses his hand to his face. "Oh, God! I need to go to my house. I know every inch of the place. I managed to find what Armstrong planted there. I can find whatever it is that Rosalind left. If we put out the word that I found it, then Elijah won't have a reason to set off any more bombs."
"He'll just come straight after you," Grey warns.
"Not if we leak that my find is at Mid-Wilshire. Stone will send a lieutenant to try to throw us into chaos. Or he might even come himself. Either way, we'll be ready, and we can keep him from blowing up the rest of the city. But we'll need to get inside Stone's head."
"And we'll have to keep a lid on the plan," Grey adds. "From the way the information got out that Ellen Sims was here, Stone may have a mole."
"We can trust Lopez," Nolan declares. "After the way that Stone beat on Wesley, she would happily tear him apart with her bare hands."
"If we pull in Lopez, we should pull in Harper. Those two make a pair that can bring anyone, including Elijah Stone, to his knees."
"Good idea," John agrees. "Elijah Stone won't know what hit him, which sure beats not knowing what hit the city."
"I'm with you there, Nolan. Do you need any help searching your house?"
"No, I don't want to risk having anyone else there. Stone might spot them and get suspicious. But I could sure as hell use one of those portable x-ray units and some time with a bomb squad technician to teach me how to use it. I smashed the walls with a baseball bat to find the drugs and money Armstrong hid. I'd rather not have to do that again."
A ghost of a smile tugs at Grey's features. "I can understand that. I'll make sure you have what you need."
"We'd better hurry," Nolan urges. "I don't want Stone massacring any more children."
"I hear you. I'll put the call into the bomb squad right now," Grey promises. "But Nolan, you know that by going back to your house, you're putting your ass on the line."
"I knew I'd be doing that every day when I joined the LAPD. I'm willing to risk it. Besides, I want my house back. And I want Bailey back too. Until we untangle what's left of Rosalind's web, I won't have either. So the sooner I find her little surprise package the better."