V Is for Vengeance

time.”

32

    AFTER

    Santa Teresa, California May 27, 1988

    There’s always a story that comes after the end of a story. How could there not be? Life doesn’t come in tidy packages, all neatly wrapped up with a pretty bow on top. The raid resulted in seventeen arrests, with criminal charges filed against twelve. To all intents and purposes, the theft ring was shut down and the organization at large suffered crippling effects—at least until they gear up again. If it hadn’t been for Len, Pinky Ford would be dead, which Pinky claims he’d have preferred. With Dodie gone, he doesn’t feel he has anything to look forward to, but that may change in time. Len was put on administrative leave and then decided to take early retirement before Internal Affairs could conduct a review. With thirty officers and an additional two dozen witnesses on hand, the facts about Cappi’s shooting death were never in dispute. After consideration, the district attorney’s office decided not to pursue the issue. Publicly, Len was hailed as a hero, which annoyed me no end. I remembered all too well the shooting years before, when he’d been called to an accounting for inadvertently killing a fellow officer during a drug bust gone bad. At the time, he was cleared, but I was never convinced he was without blame. Word on the street had it that the other officer had threatened to report Len for certain questionable transactions that he’d observed in the course of their partnership. In the matter of Cappi’s death, the consensus was that Len had done law enforcement a favor, so nobody cared if I begrudged him the praise.
    As for Dante, he disappeared while I was still bleeding on his scuffed linoleum floor. After he decked me, I remembered seeing him slip into his office, where he grabbed the suitcase from his desk and moved out of my line of sight. When the FBI agents burst in, I expected him to be escorted out in handcuffs. By then, he was gone. There were numerous explanations for his escape. Some said there was a secret room where he concealed himself until the police wrapped up the raid and departed. Others speculated he’d gone out the window and hung on to the frame while he hauled himself and his suitcase up onto the roof and made his way to the fire escape on the far end of the building. Even when the hidden staircase came to light, the man himself had vanished so completely, he might as well have been B. D. Cooper jumping out of that plane.
    Len Priddy, on the other hand, was much in the public eye—smug, self-satisfied, and apparently bulletproof. He was a bad man, but a clever one, and he’d managed to dance out of the reach of the law. With Dante gone and Cappi dead, there were no corroborating witnesses to substantiate Priddy’s relationship with the crime family. For those who’d hoped to see him behind bars, disappointment was keen that there was no justice in sight.
    Three weeks later I had a visitor. I was sitting at my desk when a woman appeared in the doorway, saying, “Hi, I’m Lou Elle. Are you Kinsey?”
    “I am.” By then, most of my facial bruises were gone and my nose was only mildly swollen, so I didn’t feel I needed to explain my appearance. She probably didn’t know the difference since I’d never met her before. I said, “What can I do for you?”
    “I work for Lorenzo Dante. Or maybe I should say I worked for him, past tense. Mind if I have a seat?”
    “Be my guest. I hope you’re here to tell me what happened to him.”
    “Yes and no. He got in touch with me once, but says I won’t be hearing from him again. It’s probably just as well. The less I know about him the better for both of us. Dante Enterprises is out of business.”
    “But you came out of it okay?”
    “I’m fine. He made sure I wouldn’t be caught in the mess. I’m not sure you’ll appreciate this, but he had Abbie buy plane tickets for himself and a companion, leaving for Manila on Thursday night. He had me buy a second pair of tickets so when the CHP intercepted the limousine on its way to LAX, they found my husband and me in the backseat instead of him. You should have seen the looks on their faces. Talk about disappointed! They were all set to make the arrest. Instead, they had to wave us on our merry way.”
    “How did he manage to get away?”
    “Sleight of hand. In a year or two, I’ll fill you in, but at the moment, all you need to know is he’s landed safely and he’s set for life.”
    “I hope