The Patrolman - 19

19.

Two blocks from Carmelita Sabella's apartment, the radio crackled. Dispatch. A woman had called in and said she knew who the killer was. Tips like this hardly ever went out right away, but she claimed she had spoken to Officer Lacey. That got their attention.

Carruthers double parked by the nearest phone booth. The watch commander rattled off the woman's phone number and Lacey memorized it. It was a tight fit.

The woman answered on the first ring.

'Jake?' she said. 'Jake, is that you?'

It was June Hartsfield.

Carruthers' eyes rolled.

'June, we have a lead,’ Lacey said. ‘I'll call you back.'

'It's about the girl. The one you found at the Farmer's Market.'

Carruthers nodded. 'Go on,' he said.

'She was friends with the other girl.'

'You saw them together?'

'A couple of times. Listen, there’s this man. A member. I saw him with them.'

'You didn’t mention this before.’

'I didn’t put it together until I saw the paper.’

His knuckles turned white from the receiver. 'Who is he?’

A pause. 'This can’t get out, Jake. My clients expect total privacy. Anything that happens in my club stays in my club. My business relies on that reputation.’

'Who is he, June?'

Her breath came through the line, her voice soft and steady. 'William Barclay Jr.’

'The publisher?'

'His son.'

The Barclays - Los Angeles' royal family. One false move and their picture would make the front page every day for a month.

'Seeing them together isn’t enough for a warrant.'

'I’ve heard... things, things about him,' she said. 'Jake, he threw a party last night. I got an invite. Then this morning, you find a girl dead.'

'So what?'

'What if he's got another one? Like right now?'

Hartsfield shagged him the address - Holmby Hills.

Beverly Hills Police Department territory.

He told her they'd look into it and hung up the phone. He laid it all out for Carruthers, though he'd heard everything. Barclay, the party, the dead girl. Another one was in play. He pitched him the coincidences, weighing the pros and cons. The argument was simple: they were either right or dead wrong. Right, and this ended today. If not, they'd be lucky to work in the records department. Two girls were already dead. They couldn't risk a third. There wasn't enough time to wait. Enough time to go through the proper channels. If they were doing this, they had to move on it now.

They got back in the car and Carruthers radioed the watch commander. 'Requesting urgent backup to Holmby Hills. Alert B.H.P.D. Possible suspect in two homicides.'

The Lincoln peeled out, running Code 3.

© J. A. Stapleton 2025 - Image Source: Wikimedia Commons