To Die in Beverly Hills Read Online Free PDF Page A

up."
    Bailey took out a pad and pen. "When I tell you about the goodies, you'll thank me for waking you up." He drew a square on the blank paper and made X's on three sides of the square. "Three entrances," he said. He drew an oval. "...A swimming pool in the backyard." He pointed to the X between the pool and the square. "Sliding glass doors. This is where you should go in."
    "What kind of goodies are we talking about?" Sheboygan asked. His face went through two full twitch cycles.
    "Gold Krugerrands," Bailey said smugly. "At least a hundred grand's worth and a stamp collection that is probably worth about that much. The man doesn't trust banks and keeps his goodies in a cabinet under an aquarium." He pointed to the diagram. "The aquarium is next to the sliding glass doors, across from a bar."
    Sheboygan's eyes were riveted on the diagram. "I love it," he said. "What about servants?" He dug a pack of filter tips out of a pouch in his jump suit and lit up.
    "No servants," Bailey said. "That's definite...and the owner will be in Palm Springs. This has been verified."
    Sheboygan's face twitched again. "Dogs?"
    "No dogs."
    "Alarms?"
    "I saw tape on the windows, but nothing on the sliding glass doors," Bailey said.
    "Guard service?"
    "I checked the records at the department," Bailey said. "There's no guard service listed."
    Sheboygan twitched as he puffed smoke, then waved his hand through it. "Sounds like a piece of cake."
    "Go for it, baby," Bailey said. He gave Sheboygan's beard a playful tug.
    "Do you want to see the goodies afterward?"
    Travis Bailey shook his head. "I trust you. Just take everything to Emil. He'll have buyers lined up."
    "I don't know what Emil has told you," Sheboygan said, "but there was no fucking Picasso ink drawing inside that place I did last week. The Rolex and the furs were there. There was silver that he hadn't even told me about. I got it all and took it straight to him. He looked at me like I was an asshole or something. 'Where's the Picasso?' he says, like I got it in the trunk of my car or something. He accused me of holding out and I don't like it. As far as I'm concerned he's nothing but a goddamn punk...a red-assed punk. I swear to God there was no Picasso anywhere in that house. I went through every room."
    "I trust you," Bailey said with a tone of confidence, "and don't let Emil Kreuzer get to you. He's just a little money- hungry. After you turn the goodies to cash, give me one ring at my apartment and well meet. Make sure you bring me small bills. It looks funny for a cop to carry hundreds." He smiled.
    Sheboygan grinned. "You ain't a cop," he said. "You're just a crazy low-class motherfucker who carries a badge."
    "You didn't talk to me like that when I caught you red-handed peddling silverware," Bailey said. "You used to talk real nice to Detective Bailey. You used to say yes, sir, and no, sir."
    Sheboygan twitched. "Now I say three bags full, sir."
    Both men chuckled.
     
    It was 2:00 A.m. The freeway was almost empty.
    It took Carr less than twenty minutes to get from Ling's to his Santa Monica apartment.
    He trudged up the steps, unlocked the door and headed for the refrigerator. Inside, a milk carton, a head of lettuce that he knew had been there for ages and one pickle left in ajar. He ate the pickle and tossed everything else in a trashcan. His stomach growled. He dismissed the thought of going for a hamburger and staggered wearily into the bedroom. Having tossed his clothes in a pile, he crawled into the unmade bed and closed his eyes.
    The telephone rang. Carr grabbed it off the nightstand.
    "I'm sorry if I woke you up," Sally said. "I really am. But I can't sleep. I want to come over."
    Carr ran a hand through his hair. "Right now?"
    "You have someone else there, don't you?"
    "No," Carr said.
    "If you do, please tell me and I'll just hang up. It's that Korean cocktail waitress, isn't it?...I'm sorry. It's none of my business..."
    "There's no one here," Carr said.
    "I'm sorry I