Anew stack of rugs arrived. Angeline Wasserman inspected a fringe. “Theseknots are tangled.”
Milo muttered, “Story of my life.”
If she heard him, she didn’t indicate. “Darius, are these the best you’vegot?”
 
Driving to Butler Avenue,I said, “AmEx Black, never used.”
“I know, same as with the Gaidelases. But do you see them tooling around ina Range Rover that just happens to match Nora Dowd’s?”
No need to answer.
When we arrived at the station, Milodemanded his messages from the new receptionist, a terrified bald man in hisforties named Tom, who said, “There’s nothing new, Lieutenant, I promise.”
I followed Milo’s chuffy climb up thestairs. When we reached his office, he unpacked his attaché, placed the autopsyfile next to his computer, and requested a BOLO on the Range Rover, all beforesitting down.
“How about this, Alex: Nora and Meserve have an 805 love nest and thosebrochures were a diversion. I’m thinking something on the beach because what’sa rich girl without a beach house? Could be right there in Camarillo,or farther north—Oxnard Harbor, Ventura,Carpinteria, Mussel Shoals, Santa Barbara, or points beyond.”
I said, “Could be points south, too. Maybe Meserve didn’t know Latigo becausehe’d hiked there.”
“Nora’s a Malibugal,” he said. “Has a rural hideaway tucked in the mountains.”
“Something registered to her individually, not part of the BNB partnership.”
“Easy enough to find out what she pays property tax on.” He flipped thecomputer on. The screen flashed blue, then black, sparked a couple of times,and died. Several attempts to reboot were greeted by silence.
He said, “Expelling profanities is a waste of oxygen. Let me borrow someoneelse’s terminal.”
I used the time to leave another message for Robin. Read through Michaela’sautopsy findings again.
Playing with veins and arteries.
The PlayHouse.
Nora tiring of theatrical abstractions. Meeting Dylan Meserve anddiscovering common interests.
Embalming. Nora’s taste in pets.
Milo returned.
“Good news?” I said.
“If failure’s your idea of success. The circuit that feeds all the computersis down, tech support was summoned hours ago. I’m going downtown to theassessor’s office to do it the old-fashioned way. If tax leeches communicatewith their buds in other counties maybe I can get hooked up with Ventura and Santa Barbara. If not, I’m on the road again.”
Humming the Willie Nelson song.
“You’re taking this well.”
“All part of my audition,” he said.
“For what?”
“Mentally stable individual.” Grabbing his jacket, he opened the door andheld it for me.
I said, “Taxidermy.”
“What?”
“The coroner’s guess about embalming. Think Nora’s fluffy dog.”
He sat back down. “Some horrific arts and crafts thing?”
“I was thinking stage prop.”
“For what?”
“Grand Guignol.”
He shut his eyes, knuckled a temple. “Your mind…” The eyes opened. “If Dowdand Meserve have an evil hobby, why wasn’t Michaela actually messed with?”
“She was rejected,” I said. “Same for Tori Giacomo. Or not. Scattered bonesmake it impossible to know.”
“Why?”
I shook my head. “That level of pathology, the symbolism can be beyondanyone else’s comprehension.”
“Two pretty girls wrong for the part,” he said. “The Gaidelases, on theother hand, have never been found. Mean............