Chapter Six
“So tell me, Special Agent West, what do you want from me that the files can’t tell you?”
Detective Lacey Child was tall, dark-haired and, despite the fact that she looked to be in her late forties, very pregnant. Which probably accounted for the note of exasperation in her voice, and definitely accounted for the swollen feet propped on her desk.
In addition to its own Emergency Medical Services, UCLA had its own police force located on Westwood Avenue and serving a community of nearly eighty-three thousand faculty, staff, and students. A jurisdiction larger than most cities. The two-story station housed a 24/7 Dispatch Center, a Community Services Bureau, and Emergency Response teams.
All that said, UCPD had not handled the investigation into Georgette Ono’s death. UCPD had worked with LAPD, but Ono had died in her Wilshire Blvd. apartment, and LAPD had led the investigation.
“The files paint a clear picture of Ono’s death. I’m hoping for some insight into her life. Her work life, anyway.”
Child said sardonically, “And you think her work life involved a lot of contact with the police?”
“A guy can hope.” Jason was sort of kidding and sort of not. LAPD had done a very thorough job in building their case. “I’m not challenging the investigation, but I’ve got a grieving family trying to come to terms with a tragedy.”
Child sighed. “Hey, I get it. The old man still has a lot of clout in Washington. I don’t take offense.”
“What a relief,” Jason replied. “That was my biggest worry.”
To give Child her due, she chuckled. “A G-man with a sense of humor. That’s a new one. Granted, you don’t look like a G-man.”
“That’s the idea.”
“An idea which, for the record, seems a little over-the-top to those of us in this building, but the administration is one hundred percent behind your cloak-and-dagger op—I’m sure they’re hoping the Ono family will donate a new wing in the professor’s name—so ask me whatever you like.”
“According to her grandfather, Professor Ono expressed fears for her safety shortly before her death. Did she report those concerns to UCPD?”
“Fears for her safety? No.”
Jason considered that noncommittal reply. “Did she report other concerns?”
Child grimaced. “I may as well tell you I disagreed with the possible-suicide determination.”
He was not entirely surprised at her frankness. Child struck him as a straight shooter. “I see.”
“As a matter of fact, I wasn’t convinced Ono’s death was accidental, but it wasn’t my—our—case. It could have been accidental. But suicide? I really struggle with that one, and I’m not surprised the family does too.”
“Did you know Professor Ono?”
“Not well. Not personally. However, I had plenty of contact with her.”
The fact that Child made that distinction furthered her credibility as far as Jason was concerned.
“As a victim or a…”
“Neither, really. She was, well, let’s just say she was an extremely contentious personality.”
“Meaning?”
Child made a sound that fell somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “There was no infraction of rules too small for her to overlook, or report. Parking violations. Smoking on campus. Copyright violations. That last one was a big one for her.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. You’d have thought she had some kind of spyware on the library copiers, the number of times she was in here reporting the unauthorized reproduction of magazine and newspaper articles.”
“Hm. That’s different.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it in twenty years of policing. That woman argued with people online, offline…”
“And all around the town?”
“Pretty much. Yeah.”
“Who was she arguing with online?”
“She was active on gaming sites. There’s a game called L.A. Noire. She was all into that, and there’s nothing wrong with gamers and gaming, but she argued constantly with people on the community portal. Oh, and movie sites. She fought with people on the TCM forum, for God’s sake. They were threatening her life on Reddit.”
Jason opened his mouth, but before he could ask the obvious question, Child said, “Absolutely. We looked into every possible line of inquiry. No one came out of the internet to get her.”
“What about her real-life confrontations?”
“She had a messy personal life, no question. Campus security was called on one occasion to break up an argument between her and Calida Lois—that was the girlfriend. She’s some kind of indie film director. I believe at one time they were going to make a movie together. I can only imagine. After that fell through, they continued a personal relationship. Apparently there was a physical altercation on Friday night—the same night we theorize Ono died.”
“Right.”
“There was also an on-again-off-again boyfriend. Balthasar Bardolf. He’s an instructor here on campus.”
Jason nodded. “Bardolf is Ono’s grandfather’s prime suspect.”
“I know. He has an alibi.”
“I thought there was some question as to the exact time of death?”
“Correct. But Bardolf was out of town the entire three-day weekend. That said, yes, in a homicide investigation, he’d certainly have warranted a closer look.”
“I see.” He still warranted a closer look, in Jason’s opinion.
“For one thing, he owed her quite a bit of money.”
“Do we know for what?”
“This, that, and the other. Which is probably why she was having difficulty collecting. Speaking of which, Ono had a sizable film collection Bardolf tried to lay partial claim to.”
“I don’t recall seeing that noted anywhere.”
“It didn’t go anywhere. He had zero documentation, zero evidence to prove his claim.”
Jason said, “Given the senator’s antipathy toward him, Bardolf would’ve been in for a fight even with proof of purchase.”
Child’s expression spoke volumes, but she restrained herself to a mild, “Agreed.”
“What happened to Ono’s film collection?”
“The family donated it to the archive.”