“ ‘Do not swear falsely, the Lord says. This I hate.’ Book of Zechariah.”
I said, “That means he hates half the witnesses who testify in court.”
“And all congressmen,” Pick said.
“Not so fast,” Father Bob said. “He loves the sinner. It’s the sin he hates.”
“Fantasy,” Pick said.
“How do you even know what hate is?” Father Bob said. “You must have love to have hate. You must know what love is to know what hate is. You must have good to know evil.”
“I do know all these things.”
“But how?”
“Because I sense ’em,” Pick said. “The way I can tell yellow from blue. I can’t prove to you yellow exists—we have to see it together. So love and justice are the same. We see ’em, and distinguish ’em from hate and injustice.”
“What’s there to tell us our senses are correct?”
“Experience,” said Pick. “We’ve all figured out a way to get along with each other.”
“Tell that to the gangs,” I said. “They’re killing cops and each other.”
“It’s the way of all flesh,” Pick said. “There is nothing to save us.”
“Love saves,” Father Bob said.
Pick flicked his hand, as if batting away a fly.
Father Bob said, “ ‘The mind has a thousand eyes, and the heart but one. Yet the light of a whole life dies when love is done.’ ”
Pick just looked at Father Bob, who seems to pull these things out of thin air. You can argue with philosophy, but poetry is another matter.
Then Pick said, “ ‘I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to nature, art. I warmed both hands before the fire of life. It sinks, and I am ready to depart.’ ”
I was afraid Pick was dangerously close to one of his episodes. Every now and then he went off like a cherry bomb. It would take days to put the pieces back together.
So I said, “Let me contribute a thought.”
They both looked at me. Incredulously, I might add.
I said, “ ‘I do not eat green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-am.’ ”
They said nothing.
Then Father Bob started laughing. Pick scowled but at least didn’t launch.
Then my phone played “Potato Head Blues.” I answered.
“Help.” The voice was barely a whisper.
“Who is it?” I said.
“Oh God, help.”
“Kate?”
“Carl’s dead. Oh, dear God, help me.”
28
CARL’S APARTMENT WAS on Havenhurst in West Hollywood. The building was Spanish revival style. A throwback to the 1920s, when movies couldn’t talk and the cops were as crooked as an English waiter’s teeth.
The LAPD is a whole lot more professional now, so I was not surprised by the efficient police presence on the ground floor. I told a uniform I was the family lawyer and showed him my Bar card. He told me I could go in.
Kate was sitting in a wingback chair in the foyer. Slumped. Eric was on his knees, his arm around her.
“Oh Ty!” she said when she saw me. I went to her and took her hand.
“They wanted to ask Mom questions,” Eric said, “but she said she wanted to talk to you first.”
“Is there someone in charge here?” I asked.
“A detective,” Eric said. “He’s in the apartment. 102.”
Kate said, “I don’t know what to do, Ty.”
“Give me a minute.” I walked down the hall and found 102, which was yellow-taped. Another uniformed officer met me there. I told him who I was. He went inside and a moment later a plainclothes came out to the hallway. He had dark curly hair and a Roman nose. About my height. Brown, intelligent eyes. Mid-fifties.
He shook my hand. “My name’s Zebker. You’re the family lawyer?”
“Yes,” I said.
“How well do you know the mother?”
“Not very. I was retained to help Carl in a DUI.”
“Is she strong? Emotionally?”
“Why?”
“There are some details about the death that are not very pleasant. It might be better coming from you. I can give the generic. It’ll all come out in the news sooner or later.”
“All right. What was it?”
“A nine-millimeter in the mouth. Ugly.”
“Suicide?”
“Maybe.”
“Was there a note or anything?”
“I have to reserve that information for now.”
“Come on, Detective.”
“We’ll follow procedure here. Right now my concern is for the mother. She’s pretty upset.”
“There will be an autopsy, right?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” I said. “Let me talk to her. And I might talk to a few of the residents.”
“Now hold on,” Zebker said. “We’re conducting an investigation.”