H Is for Homicide

believe it," I said. "He apparently gave Chago instructions to 'smoke' her if she didn't cooperate."
    Santos shifted in his chair, his voice flat. "That's all bluff. Raymond wants her back."
    I looked from one to the other. "If you already know all this stuff, why ask me?"
    Both men ignored me. I could see there wasn't going to be any point in getting crabby about the situation.
    Dolan consulted a small spiral-bound notebook, leafing back a page. "What's the story on Jimmy Tate? How'd he get involved?"
    "I'm not sure," I said. "I gather he and Bibianna have been embroiled in some kind of heavy-duty sexual relationship for the past couple of months. It seems to be serious – for the moment, at any rate." I went on, detailing the day's work, filling in as much as I knew about the dead man, which wasn't much, and about Jimmy Tate, which was considerable. As fond as I was of Tate, I couldn't see any reason to shield him from police scrutiny when it came to the shooting. There were other witnesses at the scene, and for all I knew, Dolan had already talked to them.
    When I finished, there was a silence. I looked down at my hands, realizing that I'd systematically destroyed my now empty cup in the course of my narrative. I placed fragments on the table.
    "And Tate did the shooting," Dolan said at length.
    "Well, I didn't actually see that, but it's a fair assumption. He fired twice at the car, and after I hit the pavement, there were several more shots fired. I don't think Bibianna was armed."
    "What about the other woman, Dawna? She have a gun?"
    "Not that I saw, at least not in the restaurant. She could have had one stashed in the car, I suppose. Hasn't she turned up?" I didn't think Dolan was going to answer, but I liked pretending we were equals. Just us law enforcement types having a friendly little tete-a-tete here at the county jail.
    Dolan surprised me with a response. "She took a hit. Nothing serious. Looks like a bullet ricocheted off something and grazed her collarbone. We picked her up in a phone booth a few blocks away. Probably interrupted a call to Raymond, though she wouldn't admit it."
    "She's in the hospital?"
    "For the time being. We'll hang on to her if we can, just to see what she has to tell us."
    "About what?"
    Dolan slid a look to Santos, like he was checking his hole card in a game of poker. I had the feeling Santos was making a decision. His expression didn't seem to change, but something must have been communicated between the two of them.
    "I guess we better tell you what's happening," he said. His voice was rumbling and his delivery methodical. "You've stumbled into a bit of a sticky situation here."
    "Oh, yeah, tell me about it."
    Santos tipped his chair back against the wall and laced his hands across his head. "I head a task force made up of a number of agencies working to uncover what we believe is one of the biggest auto insurance fraud operations ever mounted in Southern California. You've worked in this business long enough to know what I'm talking about. Los Angeles County is the nation's automobile insurance fraud capital. Now it's spreading through Ventura and Santa Teresa counties. This particular ring is only one of dozens that generate an estimated five hundred million to a billion in phony claims every year. In this case, we're looking at fifteen lawyers, two dozen medical doctors, half a dozen chiropractors. On top of that, a rotating pool of some fifty to sixty individuals recruited to participate in the trumped-up incidents that comprise the claims." He pushed away from the wall, sitting upright, the front legs of the chair hitting the floor with a chirp. "You with me so far?"
    "Oh, I'm here," I said.
    He leaned forward, resting one arm on the table. I noticed his manner toward me was warming somewhat. He was a man animated by his work. I had no idea where he was going with the explanation, but it was clear he hadn't driven all the way up from Los Angeles in the dead of night just to deliver this deadpan rendition of his professional concerns.
    "We've put this case together bit by bit, piece by piece, over the last two years, and we're still not in a position to shut them down."
    "I don't see the connection," I said. "Bibianna isn't part of the ring, is she?"
    "She was. Raymond Maldonado started out as a 'capper'. At this point, we believe he's one of the kingpins, but we can't prove it yet. You know how these rings operate?"
    "Not really," I said. "The people I'm used to