Last Man's Head Read Free Page B

mouth.
    In the corner of the garage, a metallic blue Dodge Dart had been reversed into the space. There was a man next to the car.  He was lying face down, at a ninety degree angle, as if he was just about to open the door before he fell. The right arm was stretched out, as if reaching for the door. Except for a pair of red shorts, this man was naked. There were vicious looking scratch marks across his back.
    Melody screamed again, her scream echoing around the whitewashed walls of the garage.
     
     

FOUR
    It was a Saturday night. The same as any other Saturday night. As any other Saturday night at the Marriott Hotel, Downtown Los Angeles. Guests moved around the lobby, making their way to or from one of the bars, or the restaurant. Some were sitting on one of the many armchairs, chatting over coffee or a drink, reading a newspaper, or just waiting.
    There were three lines waiting at reception, each with two guests behind the person checking in. Once check-in had been completed, a bell hop appeared, to escort the guest and his bags to one of the bedrooms in the twenty-one storey hotel.
    This night was slightly different, however, in that a raucous noise was emanating from one of the three function rooms. From outside, you could hear a man’s voice, and laughter.
    The man concerned was Henry Meriwether II, owner of a leather goods manufacturing firm, and father of the bride.
    The bride, his only daughter, Holly, was the subject of his speech. A speech filled with tales of Holly when she was growing up, of his admiration for her new husband, Police Detective Ray Quinn, who was sitting laughing, and clutching his new wife’s hand. The speech was also peppered with numerous jokes, ranging from harmless G-rated to deep blue. He seemed to have no concern that a large number of children were at the wedding. Maybe he figured the bluer jokes would go over the heads of the minors.
    Then it was time for the groom to give his speech. Quinn stood up, coughed, pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, and nervously opened it. Took a gulp of water, a deep breath, and began his speech.
    Quinn ’s speech had no jokes. He thanked all those who had attended the ceremony, his in-laws, and his new bride, ‘for having the cojones to put up with me’.
    The speech over, he leaned down, and gave his wife a long, loving kiss. The guests cheered and clapped as he sat back down again. As he sat back down, he looked over to the guests, at one guest in particular.
    At the far end of one of the tables, Police Detective Sam Leroy laughed and applauded as Quinn sat down. As Quinn looked over, Leroy returned his grin. Raised his glass to him.
    Leroy and Quinn were colleagues working on the Homicide Desk of the West Los Angeles Area of the LAPD. More than colleagues: they had been partnering each other for two years now; Leroy was the senior partner, and had become a mentor to Quinn. And a good friend. So it was only natural that he would be here at Quinn’s wedding.
    After the speeches, the music began. The first dance was of course for the bride and groom.  Leroy remained at the end of his table, turning his chair around to face the dance floor.
    ‘Your turn next, Sam,’ Holly called out as they glided past his chair.
    Leroy raised his glass to them. ‘For what?’ he replied. ‘A dance or a wedding?’
    Holly shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ she laughed as they glided away.
    Leroy finished his drink, stood up and ambled over to the bar. There were already three other guests there, including Preston Patterson, a fifty-something career cop, known throughout the department as ‘PP’, and Leroy’s captain.
    Patterson stepped over next to Leroy.‘Put it on my tab,’ he instructed the bartender.
    Leroy took the drink and raised the glass to Patterson. ‘Thanks.’
    ‘No problem.’ Patterson moved closer to Leroy. ‘Look – I’m glad I caught you.’
    ‘Oh yes?’ Leroy replied, slowly and suspiciously.
    ‘Yeah. Saves having to wait till