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CHAPTER 31
ALVAREZ AND CAPPY were waiting for me in the pod.
I asked, “Sonia, did you get all of that?”
“Absolutely, and the tape quality is totally clear.”
I brought out D’Amato’s boarding pass and showed it around.
“Looks real enough to me,” Conklin said. “Arrival Monday at 4 p.m., the day after Marty was shot on Sunday.”
I said, “D’Amato’s wife will vouch for him, for what that’s worth.”
Cappy said, “Thinking out loud.”
“Please do,” I said.
“It’s a six-hour drive from LA to San Francisco. D’Amato could have driven here anytime during the week. Say he makes a date with Marty to maybe, who knows, bury the hatchet. D’Amato stoops to tie a shoelace, shoots Marty in the head on Sunday night. Then he drives home to LA. Little less than a day later, he flies back and arrives at 4:00.”
I said, “Rich, can you see if there was a call or two between Bill and Marty on or before Sunday?”
While Conklin was getting Marty’s phone from the property, I said, “The major dispute between Marty and Billy happened over a theft from this woman…”
“Bolo,” said Alvarez. “Reva Bolo.”
“Right. Mrs. Bolo calls the police about a possible stalker. Why did her call get shifted to homicide?”
Cappy said, “Slow night.”
“Okay. So the two of them go to check if the lady’s fear is something actual, and after they’ve left, Mrs. Bolo was missing a pricey keepsake. Billy says Marty took it. Marty says it was Billy. Marty had more weight and Billy is out of a job. This changes Billy’s life plan to be a cop. That’s motive.”
Conklin came back scrolling through Marty’s phone.
He said, “Three calls to and from Darla on Sunday, nothing from D’Amato. We found no gun on Darla but we didn’t check out Darla’s alibi with the neighbor Angela. I’ll get on that.”
I nodded. And I was having thoughts about Darla. Had she had enough of her husband’s “bad behavior”… I was trying it on when movement down at the end of the aisle caught my eye.
Brady was leaving his office, heading toward us in a hurry. When he reached our pod, Brady said, “We’ve got a confession. A dying declaration.”
CHAPTER 32
ALVAREZ SAID, “A confession to Marty’s murder? By whom?”
Brady said, “Jack Robbie. Tried to shoot himself in the head but his girlfriend pushed the gun away. He still took a head shot and he’s not expected to make it, but he can speak a few words. You’ll want to talk to the girlfriend.”
I said, “Robbie’s at Metro Emergency?”
“Girlfriend is there, too. Only one of you can see him,” Brady said. “Boxer, you’re up. Record what he says. Fly.”
Conklin said he’d drive. Alvarez said she’d man the desk and relay messages.
If there was ever a time for Code Three, this was it. Deathbed confession during noon rush. Rich shot off the mark with lights flashing and sirens screaming. We had to get to the hospital while Robbie lived and breathed.
Traffic on 101 South was fair. We took Cesar Chavez Street to Valencia, dodging, weaving, taking tight corners. We pulled into Metro’s parking lot, and Conklin let me out at the ER entrance.
Conklin said, “Go for it. Run.”
“You can come to the waiting room.”
