“I do not,” Nancy answered after a painfully long pause. “My home is a few blocks up the hill to the west. I have a better ocean view from that vantage point.”
“I’m sure,” Ryan agreed, his voice mostly sugar with just a touch of acid. “Let me ask you, if you had to pick the resident who moved out recently who had brought the most disrepute upon the neighborhood, who would that be?”
Nancy only had to think for a second before replying.
“Barnard Hemsley, without question.”
“Why him?” Ryan wanted to know.
“Mr. Hemsley is an extremely difficult man,” Nancy said.
Jessie made sure to only look at the woman, certain that if she glanced at Ryan, she’d burst out laughing at Nancy describing someone else as difficult.
“Go on,” Ryan urged Nancy to continue.
“The man had no respect for the MBSHOA rules and regs. He repeatedly hosed down his deck with chemical cleansers that would drip onto the Strand walking path proper.”
“Why is that so bad?” Jessie wanted to know.
Nancy gave her a disdainful look before consenting to answer.
“In part, it was because of the strong bleach-like scent. But more importantly, people walk their dogs on the Strand. They invariably lick any liquid they see. More than one got sick. Owners were irate.”
“Anything else?” Ryan wondered.
“Many things,” Nancy said primly, handing over the file. “Mr. Hemsley is not married. Instead he chose to have loud parties with young women at all hours. He had no respect for our noise ordinances. He routinely left his deck furniture on the walking path, blocking pedestrian traffic. He put a wooden rocking chair on a section of greenery across from the Strand that only permits approved public seating and landscaping. He tried to have the balcony of his third floor enlarged so that it extended out over the Strand itself. Not only did it violate zoning ordinances, it created a safety hazard. If a chunk of the thing broke off, it might have landed on some baby being pushed in a stroller. There are at least another half dozen violations in the file.”
“So what happened?” Jessie asked, morbidly fascinated.
“Well, this went on for several years. Mr. Hemsley is a lawyer and he seemed to enjoy the endless court battles. But the law was on the side of the MBSHOA and he started racking up significant fines, which he refused to pay. That only increased the subsequent fines. Eventually he was over five hundred thousand dollars in arrears. That’s when the court told him he had to pay everything at once or have the home seized.”
“Did he pay?” Ryan asked, clearly as curious as Jessie.
“Eventually, yes,” Nancy said. “But not without strings. He ended up selling his house for well below market value and using some of that money to pay off the fines. It seemed he wanted to intentionally lower the property value. He also made sure to sell the home to people we later learned weren’t really Strand types. We would have tried to get them removed as well, if being nouveau riche social climbers wasn’t against the bylaws.”
Nancy shook her head, appalled at the very thought of the unpleasantness.
“So where is Hemsley now?” Jessie asked.
“He’s still in Manhattan Beach. But he’s moved slightly inland. Now he lives in Manhattan Township. Have you heard of it?”
Jessie and Ryan shook their heads.
“It’s a gated community,” she said with just a hint of superiority. “They have their own HOA, thank god. The homes are smaller and more tightly packed together. But they have excellent security. Frankly, I think he moved there just to create havoc for a new set of people.”
“Where is this place?” Ryan asked.
“Just off Marine Avenue. It’s about a five-minute drive from here. You shouldn’t have much trouble finding him.”
“Why is that?” Jessie asked.
“I suspect the guards will happily take you to him. I hear everyone there hates him too.”
*
Nancy was right.
The guard at the main gate to Manhattan Township turned up his nose at the mere mention of Barnard Hemsley’s name, though he had to fight off a slight smile when he learned the LAPD wanted to question him. He offered to lead them to the man’s house and they accepted.
As he drove ahead of them slowly, Jessie took in the homes in the neighborhood. They weren’t all that different from the houses one might find in any well-to-do, cookie cutter suburban community. There were only a few real distinctions.
One was that Manhattan Township abutted a major movie studio lot and a nine-hole golf