I was back at Leisure World.
Sanchez had the night off from private investigating to work his real job as an LAPD detective. Slacker.
Admittedly, I hadn’t been in the mood to come tonight. After seeing my soulless father, I had been in the mood to drink the night away, with occasional respites for puking up my guts.
Except I wasn’t expecting to get a call from Tony Hill, head of park security at Leisure World. There had been another flashing. I’d asked if anyone had been blinded, and he told me to not be a smart ass and to swing by tonight.
So I swung by, and now we were in my crime fighting van. There’s nothing I like more than sitting in a confined space with a hard-ass rent-a-cop with control issues.
So I offered him a beer.
“ I can’t drink when I’m on duty. And I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be drinking in this van.”
“ So arrest me,” I said. I reached inside the mini-fridge and pulled out a Miller Lite.
Tony Hill looked at it long and hard, then looked around as if anyone could see us, then said, “Fine. I’ll take one. But just one.”
I grinned and handed him an ice-cold can. We sat back in the built-in swivel chairs. Like with Sanchez, we each covered one side of the van.
“ Tell me about the flashing,” I said.
“ Do I have to?” he said. He stared at the can of beer as he spoke.
“ I’m afraid so.”
He sighed and sat back, although his eyes did go back to scanning the big tinted window. As he spoke, he drank often. So often that he soon finished the beer. “Happened two nights ago. In fact, it happened the last time you were here with your friend. Maybe ten, twenty minutes after you left.”
“ Could he have known I was here?”
“ Don’t know, but I doubt it. Your van looks like any number of maintenance vehicles. Did you see anything strange that night?”
“ Nothing strange enough for me to think a flasher was on the prowl.”
Tony Hill held up the empty can. “Got another?”
“ Got lots.”
I opened, reached, grabbed, shut, and handed him another cold one. He said, “I could get fired for drinking on the job, except I kind of make the rules for our department.”
“ Maybe you should make the rule that on nights of flasher surveillance, you can knock back a minimum of two.”
“ Four.”
“ Or four.”
We both drank to that, and I think I might have just helped to add a new bylaw to Leisure World’s security.
“ So who did he expose himself to this time?”
“ Three women.”
“ Where?”
“ They were leaving their singing group.”
“ Any other groups going on tonight?”
“ More singing lessons, which is why I wanted you to come tonight.”
“ Sounds like our boy knows the park schedule.”
“ Sounds like it.”
“ Who heads the singing group.”
“ Mr. Micliwski.”
“ Mr. McWho?”
“ Micliwski. He’s Polish. Lives right there, in fact.”
Joe Hill leaned over and pointed to the same small apartment I had watched the old man exit from with the young man. A house not very far from Poppie’s. A house in the hub of the flashing hits.
“ Oh really?” I said.
“ Sometimes his son helps out.”
“ I see,” I said. “Can the ladies describe the flasher?”
“ The usual. Kind of tall, thin, long dark hair. Wore a bathrobe.”
I studied the small apartment. There were a lot of lights on. Every now and then, a shadow stepped in front of the window. I looked at my cell phone. It was getting on about the time I had seen the old man escort his son out.
We drank and watched, and I kept my suspicions to myself.
Sure enough, at about the same time the door opened and the same old man walked out. The same medium-sized and stooped old man. Another man followed. His son, I presumed. The same young man we had seen the other night.
The same tall young man.
Tony Hill was leaning in my direction, watching the scene from the house. “Yeah, that’s his son. A singer, too, like his old man. We get to know everyone who comes and goes from this park.”
“ I believe it,” I said.
Like Sanchez and I had done a few nights ago, Tony Hill dismissed the younger guy immediately and watched the old man head back into his home where, I assumed, a few older ladies were waiting to finish up their lessons.
Except, I wasn’t watching the old guy, I was watching the young man who had crossed in front of the van and was now heading for the same parked car we had seen the other night.
I watched him get in, start the car, and slowly drive away.
I eased off the lounge chair and, ducking, headed through the small doorway and back into the front seat.
I started the van and, despite Tony Hill’s protests, followed.