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"Maybe she didn't kill the guy in Fresno," Yosh offered.
Lexington shook his head. "It had to be her. There's no other suspect."
Angie and Connie rode to the Excelsior Street address Stan had given them, parked down the block, and sat in the car, doors locked.
"What now?" Connie asked as they stared at the house. "We can't just walk up and say, hi, tell us about Veronica Maple. We're running out of time! This day is almost gone. Only one more day and word will get out that Veronica Maple is dead, then who knows what will happen?"
"All we need to do is find out what this Fernandez is all about. We know he's shady and single. He liked Veronica. There's got to be a way. Whatever it takes, we're going to find out what's happening and dispense some justice!"
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Angie gave a long glance in Connie's direction. "Of course! You look like Veronica Maple, and she was his friend, possibly his girlfriend..."
"Not again, Angie. No! I won't do it. No way, no how!"
When Lexington left, Vic Walters from Robbery was waiting for Paavo. He had a description of the guy who'd tried to fence Zakarian's diamonds-tall, broad shouldered, scraggly blond hair, wearing ragged clothes. Sounded like Max Squire had struck again. The usual fences wouldn't touch the diamonds-too hot to handle, they said.
Paavo found information about Dennis Pagozzi on the Internet due to Dennis's position with the Forty-Niners. Born and raised in San Francisco, attended Galileo High School, was given a football scholars.h.i.+p to USC in Los Angeles, and signed with the Forty-Niners as a third-round draft pick.
He then turned to Veronica Maple's background. She was born the same year as Dennis, but in Sacramento, California. Moved to San Francisco when she was fifteen. From the address on her juvenile arrest records, she would have been in Galileo High School's jurisdiction. Although it was a good-sized city school, the odds were excellent that Dennis and Veronica, both in the same grade, had known each other.
Veronica left San Francisco in her eighteenth year and went to Los Angeles. It would have been the same year Dennis went to USC. Another connection?
In LA, her problems with the law began again, and the name "Sid Fernandez" showed up in her file as someone who'd been arrested with her.
Five years later, the same year Dennis joined the Forty-Niners, Veronica was back in San Francisco.
It looked like Chuck Lexington was right about Pagozzi and Veronica-whether they had a legal marriage or not, they had a long and complicated past.
Pagozzi, Squire, Fernandez...and Julius Rodriguez could be thrown into the mix. Rodriguez, who was as thin as Fernandez was heavy. Just like the two hooded men on the bas.e.m.e.nt-garage security tape...
He grabbed his files on the courier's murder and went in search of Robbery Inspector Vic Walters.
"I don't like this one bit," Connie said, tugging with dismay at the hem of the two-sizes-too-small glittery purple sweater she was wearing. How did she let Angie talk her into these things? They sat in her car, a half block from Fernandez's house. "All I want to do is find Max."
"One leads to the other," Angie insisted, picking lint from the red midriff-baring angora she wore.
"I should be so lucky!" They'd gone to the Stones-town mall and bought short skirts, tight sweaters, spike-heeled boots, frosted turquoise eye shadow, and bright orange lipstick-the kind that turned practically fluorescent after a while. Angie ratted her hair so that it stood out from her head in gnarled splendor. Connie's was too short to rat, for which she was grateful.
They changed clothes and put on makeup in the ladies' room at Macy's, then ran like crazy to Connie's car just in case someone who knew them was in the store.
"Now," Angie began, "remember, all we have to do is saunter up to his house, knock on the door, and say we were told he was having a party and that we're there to party, big time. Got it?"
Connie looked sick. "Yes. Unfortunately."
Angie couldn't be more pleased with her brainstorm. "Well, when he sees a couple of 'ladies of the night,' so to speak, and with one of us-you-looking so much like Veronica, he's going to be hot and h.o.r.n.y and curious, right? So he'll invite us in."
"Lovely."
"Don't worry, I'll be right there-I'll protect you. But first you've got to play up to him, sweet-talk him, charm the pants off him-but not literally. And then just sli-i-i-ide in a question here, and a question there, until you have some idea what the connection is between him, Dennis, Veronica, and Max."
"And what if he's trying to sli-i-i-ide you-know-what in me while I'm doing all this nicey-nice stuff?"
"If things get scary, I'll just say our pimp is outside, and he's livid. Then we'll leave."
"At least say he's 'p.i.s.sed,' Angie. I don't think 'livid' is a pimp kind of word."
"Whatever. Let's go."
"Wait!" Connie said, clutching a door handle with one hand and rubbing her stomach with the other. "I'm scared. I feel sick. I can't do it!"
"There's nothing to be scared of. I'm sure he's harmless. Just some creep Veronica hung out with, a little shady, but aren't most people?"
"What if I throw up on him?"
"That'll work even better than my threat about a pimp."
Just then, a limousine turned onto the street, and the two stared, their mouths agape, as it pulled into Fernandez's driveway. The limo looked nearly as big as the house.
A large man, as wide as he was tall, got out and thumped up the stairs to the front door, the limo driver behind him. The first one unlocked the door, and they went inside.
"Fernandez," Angie whispered. "He must have a lot more money than we thought."
"What does he know about a deadbeat like Squire?" Connie asked, hunkering down behind the wheel. "All the more reason to get out of here."
"Chicken!" Angie cried. With that, she was out of the car and sauntering s.e.xily down the street.
With a groan, Connie caught up, and then began to saunter as well. They would have gotten there a lot faster if they'd simply walked, but Fernandez might have been watching from the window.
"Let's just take a look at the limo before we knock on the door. I wonder why he uses it," Angie said. The windows were darkened. She and Connie cupped their hands against the gla.s.s and tried to see inside with no luck.
"Where the h.e.l.l have you been?" A voice bellowed. "I'm going to kill you!"
The two spun around. Fernandez huffed down the stairs toward them, waving a gun. It looked like a cannon.
"Don't shoot!" they screamed in unison. This wasn't the kind of greeting Angie was expecting.
"We're just looking at your car," she explained.
"Yeah," Connie said, too scared to add another word.
"Hey," Fernandez said as he stepped closer. "You're not Veronica." He faced Angie. "What the h.e.l.l are you two made up for, Halloween?"
Angie was taken aback. "We're here to party," she said indignantly. Had she gone a teensy bit overboard with the clothes? Must be the eye shadow.
"Is this some kind of game?" His voice was low, dangerous.
The driver stepped to his side, eying the two women. "Hey, they ain't so bad, boss. Maybe they are what they say. They just wanna see the limo, maybe meet the driver. Party." He faced Angie. "The name's Raymondo."
"You drive this monster? How cool," Angie said. "And you're right. We just wanted to look at it and meet you guys."
Like a puppy on a leash, Raymondo's eyes begged Fernandez to let him go play.
Angie peered up at Raymondo and smiled. His tongue was too busy hanging out to form words.
She moved closer to him and turned so that he faced away from Connie. "Why don't you tell me about the...drive shaft," she purred.
This time, he didn't even wait for Fernandez's okay, but started talking. She paid no attention, simply wanting to get him out of the way so Connie could talk to Fernandez.
Connie's eyes widened with obvious terror as Angie glided away from her. She glanced from Fernandez's gun to his fat face and back to the gun again, and gulped. In a herky-jerky motion, she pointed at the gun. "I'm glad I'm not Veronica," she said with a forced laugh.
His eyes narrowed, but he lowered the gun. She smiled, and his gaze went to her very snug sweater. "You just came out of nowhere to party with me, huh?"
"Sure," she said. Angie's back was to her. "Uh...why do you hate Veronica so much?" she asked.
Big mistake. His fingers tightened on the gun. "Who are you two?"
Connie jumped back, grabbed a startled Angie, and pulled her close. "We're n.o.body. Just being friendly. Forget it, okay? Let's go, Angie."
"Hey, I'm friendly," Raymondo offered loudly.
Fernandez stepped to the side, blocking their way. "How did you two get here?" he demanded.
Connie turned to Angie to answer. It didn't make sense to say they drove there, but if she said they were neighbors, he might ask where they lived, and he might know she was lying. Her lips were dry. "The bus?" she offered.
"Get in the limo!" he ordered.
Raymondo, a lurid sneer on his face, opened a door. "Come on, ladies." he said, then laughed.
"No...no, we're leaving," Angie said. "Our...our pimp..."
Even Fernandez laughed at that statement.
She and Connie backed up, holding each other securely. When Fernandez stepped toward them, they bolted and ran into the street, hoping to get around him, the limo, and the driver.
Raymondo easily grabbed Connie's wrist, and a second later, his arm went around Angie's waist, lifting her off the ground even though her feet kept moving.
They screamed and tried to break free, but he was able to handle both with no problem and tossed them into the limo.
The next instant, the street turned into a sector of h.e.l.l.
Sirens blared, car wheels screeched, and a force of men wearing black head-to-toe SWAT uniforms, Kevlar body armor, and s.h.i.+elds appeared out of nowhere barking orders to Fernandez to drop the gun and freeze.
Feet pounded the pavement, there were shouts and the sound of scuffling...then all was silent.
Angie and Connie untangled themselves from each other and stuck their heads out the pa.s.senger door, Connie's below, Angie's right above hers.
Fernandez and Raymondo stood with their hands up, surrounded by police.
Chapter 27.
"I knew it was a set-up!" Fernandez yelled.
Robbery Inspector Vic Walters walked up to him. "You're under arrest, Fernandez. We've got you this time. Not only for the diamond robbery-"
"What robbery? What diamonds? I don't have no diamonds!"
Paavo was right behind Walters. "Also for the murder of Janet Clark, a courier employed by Couriers Unlimited."
"h.e.l.l. I don't know what you're talking about."
"And for the murder of Julius Rodriguez."
Fernandez's face fell. "Where'd you get that s.h.i.+t?"
Paavo glanced toward Raymondo, who had also been cuffed. "I'm sorry, boss. They said I was an accessory. That I could get the chair just for driving you!"
"Shut up, d.a.m.n you! So this was a set-up! I'll get out, and when I do, you're all dead men! All of you!"
"Did you also kill Veronica Maple?" Paavo asked.
Fernandez's eyes went wide with shock. He clearly wasn't acting. "What? She's dead? Where the h.e.l.l are my diamonds? I thought she ran off with them-that Julius was going to meet her!" Suddenly, his mouth began to quiver as the full import of Paavo's words struck him. His voice was small. "I thought they'd double-crossed me. I thought...I cared about her, dammit! She can't be dead!"
"Take them away," Paavo said to the uniforms who were there with a paddy wagon. He started back toward his car.
"Excuse me, Inspector Smith," said Officer Crossen, the young policeman who had helped Paavo several times over the years. "Wasn't that your fiancee in the limo?"
Paavo stared at him. "What did you say?"
"In the limo." He pointed toward the pa.s.senger door. It had been pulled nearly closed, but not latched.
Paavo frowned, walked over to it, and swung it open.
Angie and Connie cowered on the floor, curled up to make themselves as small as possible. Big turquoise-shadow-ringed brown eyes looked up at him.
"Hi," Angie said, her voice as meek as he'd ever heard it.
Angie nervously toyed with her engagement ring after Paavo left. She was glad she still had it. She'd never seen him as furious as he was with her and Connie for going to meet Sid Fernandez.
How was she supposed to know he was a murderous gang leader? n.o.body ever told her anything! She'd a.s.sumed he was rich, had a few dishonest financial dealings, but was basically a harmless guy whom Veronica had scammed-sort of like Max Squire, but on the shady side of the law.
How was she to know Robbery and Homicide had, minutes before, worked out a deal with Raymondo on the limo's phone, and that was why he'd brought Fernandez back home, saying the limo was overheating? The SWAT team had been called in just in case other g.a.n.g.b.a.n.gers were at the house, and Fernandez refused to go quietly.