Page 85 of The Grave Artist
“Whittier.”
“Still Southern California. Lot of crime, lot of homicides, but there’s still a finite number of professional killers.” He leaned against the kitchen bar. “There’s somebody I want to talk to. Guy I put away my first year on the job. A fixer named Everett Judd.” He pulled out his phone, scrolled and sent a text.
“What’s a fixer?”
“Like a broker. He puts together buyers and sellers—drugs, guns, hit people.”
“So he’s not a killer himself?”
“No, but he’s handled some deals with a few. I remember his ads for hits on the dark web.”
“You’re not serious. Advertising?”
“Yep. Look it up. ‘Silk Road.’ There are others too.”
“Can I talk to him?”
“No.” Hall was texting.
“But—”
“I’ll do the talking. Judd’s a three-time loser. He’s doing a twenty-fiver for conspiracy and state RICO. The man doesn’t play well with others. He just shanked his cellmate last week. Nobody died but he’s in solitary.” He nodded at his phone. “I just texted a buddy who’s a supervisor at the prison. Maybe he’ll agree to a video call.”
Selina continued briefing Ryan for another twenty minutes before his phone vibrated on the coffee table.
“It’s him.” He picked it up and tapped the screen. “Hey, Tal. Thanks ... Five, ten minutes ... Okay, thanks ... yeah, this number.”
He disconnected. “My friend. He’s head of the block that includes solitary. Cal State Prison.”
“Will Judd answer your questions?”
“Maybe. You never know. The thing you have to remember: Criminals at his level? They’re mostly sociopaths. Sometimes you have normal conversations, sometimes things take a dark turn. But always—and I mean always—they try to manipulate you.”
He finished getting dressed while Selina continued to stare at the list of names.
Had one of them hired Roberto’s killer?
Caliber jumped up and purred and rubbed his head against her leg. She absently stroked the soft fur.
Hall’s phone hummed once more and he walked into the living room, clipping his gun onto his belt. He glanced at the phone and, answering, gestured her to join him, but to stand to the side. “It’s a video call. You can listen, but I don’t want him to see you. A woman would be a distraction.” He added under his breath, “Especially you.”
Fine with her. She had no desire to see Judd. “All right.”
She listened as Ryan navigated his way through the Corrections Department’s communication system. After a couple of minutes, he held the cell phone up in front of him and she knew the video link was live.
A deep, raspy voice sounded through the tiny speaker. “Well, well, well. My old buddy. What do you want, Detective?”
Ryan’s expression hardened. “Information.”
“Like everything else in this world of ours, it’s gonna cost you.”
“After that stunt you pulled last week, there’s no way you’ll get your sentence shortened. In fact, it’ll be extended considerably.”
“You think I’m stupid? I know there’s nothing you or the DA can do for me that way. There’s something else I want.”
“Before we get to haggling, let’s see if you have anything to trade. You know anything about a contract three years ago on a Roberto Sanchez? Whittier. An investment adviser.”
“No, nothing.”
