Dylan Meserve had cleared out of his Culver City apartment six weeks ago, failing to give noticeto the company that owned the place. The firm, represented by a pinch-featuredman named Ralph Jabber1, had been more lax than Michaela’s landlord: Dylan owedthree months back rent.
We encountered Jabber walking through the empty flat and jotting2 notes on aclipboard. The unit was one of fifty-eight in a three-story complex the colorof ripe cantaloupe. The Seville’stripometer put it three miles from where Michaela’s body had been found. Thatplaced the murder scene roughly equidistant from the couple’s respectiveapartments and I said so to Milo.
“What, the two of them reaching some kind of common ground?”
“I’m pointing out, not interpreting.”
He grunted3 and we walked through unguarded double glass doors into amusty-smelling lobby done up in copper4 foil wallpaper, pumpkin-coloredindustrial carpet, and U-build Scandinavian furniture made of something yellowthat yearned5 to be wood.
Dylan Meserve’s unit was on the far end of a dark, narrow hallway. From tenyards away I could see the open door, hear the supercharged whine6 of anindustrial vacuum cleaner.
Milo said, “So much for trace evidence,”and walked faster.
Ralph Jabber motioned to the dark little woman pushing the vacuum. Sheflipped a switch that quieted but didn’t silence the machine.
“What can I do for you?”
Milo flashed the badge and Jabber loweredhis clipboard. I caught a glimpse of the checklist.1. FLOORS: A. Normal Wear B.Tenant7 Liability 2.WALLS…
Jabber was sallow, short, and sunken-chested, in a shiny black four-buttonsuit over a white silk T-shirt, brown mesh8 loafers without socks. He hadnothing to offer about his former tenant, other than the outstanding rent.
Milo asked the woman what she knew and gotan uncomprehending smile. She was less than five feet tall, sturdily built,with a carved-teak face.
Ralph Jabber said, “She doesn’t know the tenants9.”
The vacuum idled like a hot rod. The woman pointed10 to the carpet. Jabbershook his head, glanced at a Rolex too huge and diamond-encrusted to begenuine.“Elotro apartmente.”
The woman wheeled the machine out of the apartment.
Dylan Meserve had lived in a rectangular white room, maybe three hundredsquare feet. A single aluminum11 window set high on one of the long walls granteda view of gray stucco. The carpeting was coarse and oat-colored. Thevest-pocket kitchenette sported orange Formica counters chipped white alongvarious corners, prefab white cabinets smudged gray near the handles, a brownspace-saver refrigerator left open.
Empty fridge. Bottles of Windex and Easy-Off and a generic12 brand ofdisinfectant sat on the counter. Scuff13 marks bottomed some of the walls. Littlesquare indentations compressed the carpet where furniture had sat. From thenumber of dents14, not much furniture.
Ralph Jabber’s clipboard lay flat against his thigh15 now. I wondered how he’dscored the scene.
“Three months back rent,” said Milo. “Youguys are pretty flexible.”
“It’s business,” said Jabber, without enthusiasm.
“What is?”
“We don’t like evictions. Prefer to keep the vacancy16 rate low.”
“So you let him ride.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyone talk to Mr. Meserve about it?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“How long would Mr. Meserve have had to go before you threw him out?”
Jabber frowned. “Every situation is different.”
“Mr. Meserve asked for an extension?”
“It’s possible. Like I said, I don’t know.”
“How come?”
“I don’t handle the rents. I’m the termination-transition manager,” saidJabber.
That sounded like a euphemism17 for mortician.
Milo said, “Meaning…”
“I fix the place up when it’s vacant, get it ready for the new tenant.”
“Got a new tenant for this one?”
Jabber shrugged18. “It won’t take long. The place is high-demand.”
Milo looked around the small dismal19 room.“Location, location, location.”
“You got it. Close to everything, Lieutenant20. The studios, the freeways, thebeach, Beverly Hills.”
“I know it’s not your area of expertise21, sir, but I’m trying to trace Mr.Meserve’s activities. If he hadn’t asked for an extension, would there be somereason you’d simply let him go for three months?”
Jabber’s eyelids22 half closed.
Milo moved closer, used his height and bulkto advantage. Jabber stepped back. “Off the record?”
“Is it a sensitive topic, Mr. Jabber?”
“No, no, not that…to be honest, this is a big building and we’ve got otherseven bigger. Sometimes things get…overlooked.”
“So maybe Meserve got lucky and just sneaked23 by.”
Jabber shrugged.
“But eventually,” said Milo, “his failureto pay rent would’ve caught up with him.”
“Of course, yeah. Anyway, we got at least his first month and damagedeposit. He’s not getting nothing back ’cause he didn’t give notice.”
“How’d you find out he was gone?”
“Phone and electricity got shut off for nonpayment. We pay the gas but theutilities notify us when the other stuff goes.”
“Kind of an early warning system.”
Jabber smiled uneasily. “Not early enough.”
“When did the phone and electricity get shut off?”
“You’d have to call the main office.”
“Or you could.”
Jabber frowned, pulled out a cell phone, punched an auto-dial three-digitcode. “Samir, there? Hey, Sammy, Ralph. I am, yeah, the usual…tell me, when didthe juice get squeezed off at Overland D-14? Why? ’Cause the cops wanna know.Yeah…who knows, Sammy, they’re here now, want to talk to them yourself…okay,then, just tell me so I can get them outta—so they can find out what they wannaknow. Listen, I got six more to deal with, Sammy, including two in the Valleyand it’s already eleven…yeah, yeah…”
Ninety seconds passed. Phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, Jabberwalked into the kitchenette, opened cabinets, ran his finger inside drawers.“Fine. Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I will, yeah.”
He clicked off. “Utilities went four weeks ago. One of our inspectors24 saidthere’d been no mail for six weeks.”
“Four weeks ago and you just came by today.”
Jabber colored. “Like I said, it’s a big company.”
“You the owner?”
“I wish. My father-in-law.”
“That him you were talking to?”
Jabber shook his head. “Brother-in-law.”
“Family affair,” said Milo.
“By marriage,” said Jabber. His lips twisted into a tight, pale blossom.“Okay? I gotta lock up.”
“Who’s the inspector25?”
“My sister-in-law. Samir’s wife. Samir has her come around, check thingsout. She’s not too bright, never told anyone about the no-mail.”
“You have any idea where Mr. Meserve went?”
“I wouldn’t know him if he walked in right now. Why all the questions?What’d he do?”
Milo said, “Would anyone at the companyhave information about him?”
“No way,” said Jabber.
“Who rented to him?”
“He probably used one of the services. Rent-Search, or one of them. It’son-line or you can call, mostly people do it on-line.”
“How’s it work?”
“Applicant26 submits an application to the service, service passes it along tous. Applicant qualifies, he puts down the deposit and the first month and movesin. Once we get occupancy, we pay a commission to the service.”
“Meserve have a lease?”
“Month to month, we don’t do leases.”
“Leases don’t keep the vacancy rate down?”
“You get a bum27,” said Jabber, “doesn’t matter what’s on paper.”
“What does it take to qualify as a tenant?”
“Hey,” said Jabber. “Lots of homeless would kill for a place like this.”
“You ask for references?”
“Sure.”
“Who did Meserve give?”
“Like I said, I’m just the—”
“Call your brother-in-law. Please.”
Three references: a previous landlord in Brooklyn, the manager of the FootLocker where Dylan Meserve had worked before getting arrested, and Nora Dowd,Artistic Director of the PlayHouse, in West L.A.,where the young man had been listed as a “creative consultant28.”
Jabber examined what he’d written down before passing it along to Milo.
“Guy’s an actor?” He laughed.
“You rent to a lot of actors?”
“Actor means bum. Samir’s stupid.”
I followed Milo to the West L.A. station, where he parked his unmarked inthe staff lot and got into the Seville.
“Meserve stopped his mail soon after he got busted,” he said. “Probablyplanning to rabbit if things didn’t work out in court.” He searched his notepadfor the acting29 school’s address. “What do you think of that ‘creativeconsultant’ business?”
“Maybe he apprenticed30 to earn extra money. Michaela blamed Dylan for thehoax but obviously Nora Dowd didn’t.”
“How’d Michaela feel about that?”
“She didn’t talk about Nora’s reaction to Dylan. She was surprised at Nora’sangry reaction to her.”
“Dowd boots her but keeps him on as consultant?”
“If it’s true.”
“Meserve faked the reference?”
“Meserve’s been known to embellish31.”
Milo phoned Brooklyn, located the landlordDylan had cited as a reference. “Guy said he knew Dylan’s father because he’s apart-time musician himself and they used to gig. He has a vague memory of Dylanas a kid but never rented him an apartment.”
“Creative consultant,” I said.
“Let’s talk to the consultee.”
1 jabber | |
v.快而不清楚地说;n.吱吱喳喳 | |
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2 jotting | |
n.简短的笔记,略记v.匆忙记下( jot的现在分词 );草草记下,匆匆记下 | |
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3 grunted | |
(猪等)作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 ); (指人)发出类似的哼声; 咕哝着说 | |
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4 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
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5 yearned | |
渴望,切盼,向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6 whine | |
v.哀号,号哭;n.哀鸣 | |
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7 tenant | |
n.承租人;房客;佃户;v.租借,租用 | |
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8 mesh | |
n.网孔,网丝,陷阱;vt.以网捕捉,啮合,匹配;vi.适合; [计算机]网络 | |
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9 tenants | |
n.房客( tenant的名词复数 );佃户;占用者;占有者 | |
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10 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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11 aluminum | |
n.(aluminium)铝 | |
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12 generic | |
adj.一般的,普通的,共有的 | |
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13 scuff | |
v. 拖着脚走;磨损 | |
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14 dents | |
n.花边边饰;凹痕( dent的名词复数 );凹部;减少;削弱v.使产生凹痕( dent的第三人称单数 );损害;伤害;挫伤(信心、名誉等) | |
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15 thigh | |
n.大腿;股骨 | |
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16 vacancy | |
n.(旅馆的)空位,空房,(职务的)空缺 | |
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17 euphemism | |
n.婉言,委婉的说法 | |
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18 shrugged | |
vt.耸肩(shrug的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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19 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
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20 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
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21 expertise | |
n.专门知识(或技能等),专长 | |
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22 eyelids | |
n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 );眼睛也不眨一下;不露声色;面不改色 | |
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23 sneaked | |
v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 );偷偷溜走;(儿童向成人)打小报告;告状 | |
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24 inspectors | |
n.检查员( inspector的名词复数 );(英国公共汽车或火车上的)查票员;(警察)巡官;检阅官 | |
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25 inspector | |
n.检查员,监察员,视察员 | |
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26 applicant | |
n.申请人,求职者,请求者 | |
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27 bum | |
n.臀部;流浪汉,乞丐;vt.乞求,乞讨 | |
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28 consultant | |
n.顾问;会诊医师,专科医生 | |
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29 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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30 apprenticed | |
学徒,徒弟( apprentice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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31 embellish | |
v.装饰,布置;给…添加细节,润饰 | |
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