Fire Point Page 8

  The complex was made up of nine town-house-style buildings that faced onto a central courtyard. It looked pleasant but functional, a shorthand that could have applied to a lot of the city. Everything was pleasant and going along just great – until it wasn’t, and then it could get very unpleasant indeed.

  Lock took a seat in the middle of the courtyard. He had already called ahead to let Stacy know he was dropping by. She was going jogging but said she’d meet him at one of the benches that were dotted among the trees. Lock had a lot on his mind, not least the fleeting return of Marcus and what was on the laptop he had been so keen to recover.

  He couldn’t lie to himself either. Lock was thinking about Tarian. It was stupid to deny that he found her attractive. She had made it very clear that it was mutual. Perhaps when this was all resolved, if it could be resolved, and when she was clear of Teddy . . . Perhaps what? They’d be in a relationship?

  That was the problem with getting older. You already knew when things had no chance of working out with someone before you could even give them a chance. With age came complications. Kids. If not yours then the other person’s. People had careers and family that tied them to a location. It was a world away from the college kids he was surrounded by. No commitments. No baggage. Free to flit in and out of each other’s lives as they wished.

  It made Lock wonder about Marcus and the anger he seemed to carry. He was one of those people who had it all yet believed that the world was out to get them. The kid was hardly a male model but he wasn’t unattractive. He was white, which already gave him a jump (as Ty never reminded of reminding Lock), he came from money and privilege. And yet Marcus had a festering resentment.

  ‘Hey!’

  Lock looked up to see Stacy standing with a tanned athletic guy in his early twenties. They were both in shorts and T-shirts. Looking at what he assumed had to be Stacy’s boyfriend, it was evident that Marcus might have had a lot going for him but Stacy was still out of his league.

  Stacy introduced her boyfriend, Brad. He shook hands with Lock while giving him his don’t-mess-with-my-girlfriend-bro face.

  ‘What did you want to see me about?’ Stacy asked, earnest.

  ‘Just a few more questions about what went on with Marcus. I promise not to take up too much of your time. I also wanted to let you know to stay alert. If you see Marcus you should call campus security and the LAPD straight away. They should both be aware of the situation because it’s already gone to court so they’ll respond quickly. Get somewhere safe, stay there, and wait for them to arrive.’

  ‘You’re kind of freaking me out, Mr Lock,’ said Stacy.

  Brad slid his arm around her waist. The gesture seemed more territorial than protective. ‘Maybe you should come stay with me this week.’ He stared at Lock. ‘I live off-campus.’

  Lock gave Brad his moment. Clearly living off campus was the mark of a man. ‘I think it’s probably better if you’re on campus, Stacy. I’m going to speak to USC security later and make sure they all know who to look out for,’ he said. ‘I don’t think anything will happen, or even close, but it’s always better to be prepared.’

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ said Stacy.

  Lock had led with the warning for two reasons. One, he wanted Stacy to take it seriously. But he also wanted to establish some trust, to make sure that she knew he was working for Marcus’s family but that that didn’t mean he wasn’t on her side. Which was true. He didn’t want to see her hurt and he didn’t want to see a troubled young man do something stupid that would hurt not only him but everyone around him. It took only a moment of idiocy to ruin a bunch of lives.

  ‘I wanted to ask you about people that Marcus might have been hanging out with when he was here. Guys. Like a group of them.’

  Brad was the first to react. He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Those losers.’

  ‘So you both knew them?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Stacy.

  ‘But you did, Brad?’ Lock pressed.

  ‘One of them, kinda. He was called Loser, or some dumb nickname like that. They both lived over on Severance.’

  ‘Was he a freshman too?’ Lock asked.

  Brad shrugged. ‘Senior, I think. Older definitely.’

  ‘You know his real name?’

  ‘Drew something,’ said Brad. ‘Sorry, that’s all I got.’

  Something occurred to Lock. ‘What about Marcus? He must have had a name, right?’

  Stacy rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, yeah, it was real imaginative. They called him MG ‒ y’ know, his initials.’

  Lock spent another fifteen minutes talking to them before he sensed he was exhausting their patience and starting to go round in circles. He mentioned, in an oblique way, the shots fired at Marcus’s apartment and was met with a blank stare by both Stacy and Brad. That left him with a couple of nicknames. He could only hope that the copy of the hard drive from Marcus’s laptop computer would yield something more.

  From what Brad had said, which chimed with what Teddy had told them, Marcus had fallen in with a crowd of self-styled pick-up artists. On the surface it didn’t seem to Lock like the most troubling thing in the world, especially for a kid like Marcus, who needed to bolster his confidence and social skills. Marcus would go out with his friends to pick up girls – just like every other bunch of young men since the dawn of time. But that wasn’t the worrying part. That came when girls weren’t interested. It seemed that Marcus wasn’t the only one who couldn’t take no for an answer.

  But how did that fit with what else that had happened? The gunfire. Marcus’s moods and habit of going AWOL. His threats to Stacy. Did it add up to anything?

  Perhaps the best thing would be for Tarian to give her son some space. To let him find his own way. It was a tough thing for a parent to do, perhaps the toughest, but it might also be the right thing. Marcus had seemed pretty together when Lock had met him. Surly, sure, but that hardly made the boy unique.

  And what would end up happening if he stuck around Tarian? By the time he started the drive back to Brentwood he had made up his mind. He and Ty would finish up their security review. They could look some more into the hard drive, and what Marcus Griffiths might be hiding, but if that yielded nothing, they were done. Marcus wasn’t missing. He didn’t appear to be in danger ‒ at least, not from an external source. The LAPD and USC security could cover Stacy and her boyfriend. There was no job to speak of for Lock and Ty, and there were plenty of people out there who actually needed help. It was over.

  Lock was in his car heading back to Brentwood when he thought of something. He couldn’t work out anything from the nicknames. Krank. Loser. They might as well have been named John Doe I and II. Instead of staying on the 10 freeway, he took the next exit and headed down Sepulveda, back to the Marina.

  At the apartment complex, he parked outside the main office but didn’t go inside. They might have the information he needed but there was no way they’d give it to him. He headed for the booth that controlled access into the complex. A middle-aged Hispanic guard was on duty. Lock introduced himself, told him who he was. He got a break when the guard, who was called Ramón, mentioned that he’d served in the Middle East. Lock had been with Britain’s Royal Military Police specialist close-protection unit, but shared service gave him a platform on which to build.

  Twenty minutes later Lock got back into his car and left the complex. He was a hundred dollars lighter but he had a promise from Ramón that he would provide Lock with a list of visitors to Marcus’s apartment. No one would have got past Ramón or his colleagues with something as flimsy as a nickname like Krank.

  31

  Marcus pulled the laptop from his rucksack and dumped it casually on the kitchen table. Loser and two of the other guys were busy cooking while Krank pored over a map that was laid out on the dining-table. Krank glanced at him. ‘Anyone try and access it?’ Krank asked.

  ‘Yeah, last night,’ said Marcus. ‘Probably one of those security guys m
y mom has working for her.’

  Krank gave Marcus his death stare. ‘Tell me you’re kidding.’

  ‘Relax,’ said Marcus. ‘They didn’t get past the first log-in, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have known what they were looking at.’

  ‘We’re taking no chances,’ said Krank. Fingers spread out at the two upper corners of the map, he went back to his studies. ‘You ready for tonight, MG?’

  Marcus had hoped that Krank had changed his mind and decided to let her go. After all, she had never actually done anything to Marcus. Not like that stuck-up little bitch Stacy or his mom. He should have known better. Once Krank had decided on a course of action that was it. There was no knocking him off course.

  ‘You want me to do it?’ Marcus said, looking at Loser.

  One of them was busy chopping garlic. He lifted the knife from the cutting board and made a slashing motion in the air. ‘It’s easy, dude. Just slice her carotid. She’ll be done in, like, five, ten minutes.’

  ‘Yeah, I want you to do it,’ said Krank. ‘You’re the only one who hasn’t popped his cherry. How can we take you along on this,’ he stabbed a finger at the map, ‘if you’re still a virgin? Blood in, remember.’

  ‘I thought that maybe taking that shot at—’

  He was cut off before he could finish. Krank was getting pissed. He stood up and glared at Marcus. ‘What’s “maybe”? What does “maybe” count for? No. Tonight you do her. She goes. We shouldn’t have kept her here this long in any case. Too risky.’

  Marcus was cornered. He swallowed hard. He really didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t sure he could, even if he’d wanted to. As ever Krank sensed his unease. Krank always picked up on weakness.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘You’ll have some help.’

  32

  There was a Toyota Prius parked at the front of the Griffiths family home as Lock arrived back. Any other unknown vehicle might have raised his heart rate by a few beats per minute, but Lock had yet to encounter a Prius driver capable of providing a credible threat to someone he was charged with protecting. He got out of the Audi and walked to the front door. Ty opened it as Lock approached and he went inside.

  ‘Visitor?’ Lock asked.

  ‘The father,’ said Ty. ‘Showed up about a half-hour ago.’

  Lock could see him sitting in the living room with Tarian. Her first husband, Peter Blake, was perched next to her on the couch. A tall, thin man with greying hair and frameless glasses, he was, according to Forbes magazine, worth somewhere north of half a billion dollars. He took off his glasses and sat rubbing his eyes. At least Lock now saw where Marcus Griffiths had got his social awkwardness. Everything about Peter Blake, from his body language to a slight stutter as he spoke to Tarian, indicated a man who was far from comfortable in his own skin, never mind the world.

  ‘Where’s Teddy?’ Lock asked Ty.

  ‘Sulking in his den with a big ole glass of whisky. You find anything out?’

  ‘Not really,’ said Lock. ‘Spoke to the girl at USC. Told her to be careful. Guard at the apartment complex is going to see if he can get us some actual names for Marcus’s buddies.’ Lock nodded at Peter. ‘What’s his deal?’

  Ty shrugged. ‘You jealous?’ he said.

  Before Lock could respond, Tarian called, ‘Mr Lock, would you join us?’

  Lock made his way over.

  ‘This is Peter, Marcus’s father,’ said Tarian.

  Peter got up to shake Lock’s hand. He had the grip of a recent stroke victim.

  Pleasantries out of the way, Tarian gestured for Lock to sit down. ‘I’ve already told Peter that you’re helping us try to figure out what might be going on with Marcus.’

  Lock felt that was a stretch but he let it go. He wasn’t a shrink, and he had no desire to be seen as one. He was interested in psychology in as much as it would allow him to assess whether Marcus was a danger to himself or others. That was where his interest began and ended.

  ‘When did you last see him, Mr Blake?’ Lock asked, taking a seat across from them.

  ‘See him? A couple of months ago. But I speak to him regularly.’ Peter glanced over at his ex-wife. From the way he looked at her, it didn’t take a genius to figure that he might have gotten wind of her impending of break with Teddy. ‘I’ve offered him a job with one of my companies. An apartment close to me in Palo Alto. Whatever he needs.’

  Lock wondered if Peter had ever taken his son out to a ball game, or coached his soccer team, or done any of the regular stuff. Everything his parents offered Marcus seemed to revolve around material things. Not that they were unique in that regard. That seemed to be most of modern parenting. Take this, and shut the hell up.

  ‘He wasn’t interested?’ said Lock.

  ‘Sadly, no. That’s why I came down. There have been a few things he’s said to me over the past months that concern me. Outbursts.’

  ‘Can you be a little more specific?’ said Lock.

  Peter took a deep breath. ‘He’s spoken about hurting people. At first I thought he was blowing off steam. You know, teenage hormones, being angry at the world, that kind of thing.’

  Lock stayed quiet, allowing Peter to go on. The problem was that Marcus was hardly a teenager. He was a young man who would be held accountable for his actions. Lock wasn’t sure how much of a get-out clause hormones would provide, if Marcus did something really stupid.

  ‘You never told me this,’ said Tarian. ‘What did he say?’

  Peter looked troubled. ‘Some of it was about you and Teddy. And the children.’

  Tarian grabbed for his hand. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said that he hoped that one day he’d come home and find you all dead. That he didn’t feel part of the family. That no one cared about him. That you favored the children you’ve had with Teddy more than him. He was venting, Tarian. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. But it did worry me.’

  The color had drained from her face. It couldn’t be news to her but to hear it from her ex-husband had to be shocking.

  ‘Kids say a lot of things in the heat of the moment,’ said Lock, trying to make her feel a little better.

  ‘This wasn’t in the heat of the moment. He was perfectly calm. That was what worried me,’ Peter said. Tarian still held his hand. ‘I’ve spoken to a family counselor and I think we need to stage some kind of an intervention. Perhaps if we all sit down with him and talk this through we can let him know that we’re here for him. Mr Lock, if you could find a way of getting Marcus back here?’

  Lock had the sudden desire to walk out and take Ty with him. This was domestic stuff and, as a rule, he stayed well away from such matters for very good reason. ‘Mr Blake, I’m not sure what Mrs Griffiths told you about me, but I’m not a babysitter. Nor do I help people stage interventions. Now, my business partner and I are happy to gather further information and do a risk assessment on your son. We’re also happy to review security for Mr and Mrs Griffiths. But that’s it.’

  Tarian stood up suddenly. ‘An intervention? With all of us? That might work. Let me go speak to Teddy.’

  Lock watched her leave the room. It was as if she hadn’t heard him.

  ‘You know,’ Lock said, ‘you might want to speak to someone with expertise in this area. If Marcus is demonstrating violent tendencies, pushing him into a corner might have the opposite effect to the one you want.’

  Peter seemed to bristle. ‘I think I know my own son, Mr Lock. Now, given that you’re no doubt being paid very handsomely, I’m sure you’ll have no problem accommodating us.’

  In the hallway Lock was sure he heard Ty mutter something less than complimentary about the tech tycoon. Neither he nor Ty had much time for entitled assholes.

  For a man who had spent time in the military, Lock wasn’t always the best when it came to being ordered around, as more than one officer had discovered. It had held back his career in the Military Police. It had cost him money in the civilia
n world.

  Peter Blake was already wilting under Lock’s stare. ‘Excuse me?’ said Lock.

  ‘I don’t mean to sound like I’m telling you what to do,’ he stuttered.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ said Lock. Maybe this was another clue to why Marcus had turned out as he was. He was surrounded by parents who thought that money was a substitute for persuasion or good manners. People did what you wanted them to do. Then, of course, you got into the real world and discovered that life didn’t work like that. At least, not all the time.

  Stacy had told Lock that Marcus’s first attempts to woo her had revolved around a date she hadn’t realized was a date. That had been followed by a series of expensive gifts that had creeped her out rather than softening her. ‘It was as if he thought he could buy me,’ she had told Lock.

  ‘If you need an extra fee for tracking down my son and making sure he’s here and that he stays—’ Peter said.

  ‘He stays?’ Lock asked. ‘You planning an intervention or a kidnapping, Mr Blake?’

  ‘A friend I spoke to told me that sometimes people can be initially resistant to having a dialogue and confronting their issues.’

  Confronting their issues, thought Lock. Right now he was fantasizing about pulling his SIG and helping Peter Blake confront some of his. What the hell had happened to America that no one could speak plain English anymore? Instead they descended into psychobabble, with emphasis on the babble. ‘If your son wants to sit down with you, that’s up to him. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .’ Lock walked out of the room leaving Peter stumbling over a half-assed apology.

  In the hallway, he told Ty, ‘Five minutes we’re out of here.’

  ‘You got it,’ said Ty.

  Lock headed for the den. It was located near the back of the house and looked out over the pool, spa and barbecue area. Not that Teddy could see the view as he’d had heavy-duty blinds installed, along with the home-theatre system and another wet bar, with enough whisky to maintain the population of a small Irish island during a bad winter.