Story: Sebastian (part 2 of ?)
TITLE: "Sebastian"
AUTHOR: tess_dicorsi
RATING: R
GENRE: Mystery
CHARACTERS: Ensemble
DISCLAIMER: Recognizable characters are not mine. Just playing with them and promise not to break them. There are a few original characters, they're mine. I'm also trying not to break them.
SUMMARY: An old collar from the LAPD and an angry colleague from the FBI are back and looking for Marty Deeks. Established Deeks-Kensi. Multi-chapter story.
2. "The past actually happened but history is only what someone wrote down." - A. Whitney Brown
"In 2006, LAPD confiscated some commercial real estate in a drug bust," Deeks began. "Most was auctioned off but the Department held to on a couple of properties they thought had possibilities. One place was a bar-restaurant in Venice called Ruby's which in other incarnations was Beach Beer Bar, Seashore Inn and my favorite, Long Island Ice Tea. Lt. Bates wanted to run a year-long operation out of it just to see what would happen. Since I was coming off nearly five months with a burglary crew and looked like a Venice guy, I got the assignment of being the bar's new owner."
"What did you know about running a bar?" Kensi asked.
"Bates's sister-in-law was in the restaurant business. She was able to walk me through what I needed to know to look like I knew how to run a bar-restaurant. After installing a ton of surveillance equipment in and around the place and wiring up the living space above the bar that was going to be my undercover apartment, Boogie's opened on February 12th." Deeks hit enter on his laptop and photos of Boogie's popped up on the big screen
"Boogie's?" Eric perked up. "You ran Boogie's?" Eric stared at Deeks, his hand coming to his mouth. "Oh my God, you're Marty."
"Who else would he be, Mr. Beale?" Hetty wondered.
"Edward Michael Martin, please, call me Marty. Everyone does," Deeks answered Hetty with practiced ease. "The bar was far enough away from places I hung out as a kid that LAPD wasn't too worried about someone remembering me but it was just easier to be 'Marty' for this set-up. A year is a long time and I was still fairly green."
"Marty had the best life. Surfed all morning, hung out at Boogie's lunch until closing. Free liquor, free food, big table in the back, best looking waitresses around always flirting with him. He was a rock star," Eric almost sighed in admiration.
Deeks burst Eric's bubble. "OK, the food wasn't free since it came out of the budget. No drinking on duty, just ginger ale, and I was always on duty. I was usually working the books, ordering food and running the business at the big table in the back and the best looking waitresses were usually complaining about the customers, not flirting."
Hetty was growing bored, paging through Deeks's notes. "Gentlemen, can we continue?"
"Sorry. The first few months of the undercover assignment were really successful. Two morons who thought they were the next Tony Soprano tried to shake down the place for extra payments for trash removal. They were quickly set up and arrested. Two real shake down guys were involved with the linen service. We got someone inside their business, wound up not only closing down the kickback business but there was a pretty good human trafficking trade in the laundries that was stopped. Jess Traynor ran that operation." Deeks shook his head, as if to clear it. "There was a building inspector looking for a bribe, a couple of narcotics operations. It worked."
"Mr. Deeks," Hetty looked up from the case notes, "Boogie's was clearing five thousand a month in profit, is that correct?"
Deeks nodded. "I figured to keep the operation going the place couldn't bleed money. Now, I wasn't getting paid by the bar so that added to the bottom-line but I found other revenue streams that could help with investigations. The guys who ran it as Long Island Ice Tea were from Brooklyn. They put a window on the side of the building like you see in New York pizzerias. They didn't stay opened long enough to have the pizza oven delivered and installed but the window was there. I paid a wanna be actress who lived about three blocks away to pick up some pastries at a local bakery, make some coffee and open the window at 6AM and sell the coffee and pastries until she ran out or had auditions. That gave the place a morning presence. I worked for a caterer in college and law school so we started catering beach weddings and parties, which opened up other investigations. Bates's sister-in-law knew a chef who needed extra money after a divorce so he did lunch at a big time restaurant downtown and dinner for Boogie's. Frank had a chef friend coming out of rehab and wanted to work days so he could go to meetings at night. A week before Memorial Day, Boogie's started opening for lunch. That's important."
Kensi looked at Deeks, "Why was that important?"
"Sometime around 4th of July, a guy started coming in for a late lunch. After two o'clock, usually twice during the week, sometimes but not always one day over the weekend but never on a fixed day."
"Boothe?" Hetty asked.
"Sebastian Boothe. I didn't pay much attention to him in the beginning except he ate alone, tipped well and was one of the few men there after two o'clock. After two, Boogie's got a bunch of moms walking around with kids in strollers coming in for coffee and cheesecake. Usually not a lot of guys in that group - maybe a male nanny or a father with the kids for the day but Boothe started showing up a couple of times a week." Deeks hit enter again on his laptop and a photo of Sebastian Boothe hit the big screen. He was about six foot, slight build - maybe 165 pounds - light brown hair, green eyes, clean-shaven.
"Kind of an average guy," Eric commented.
"Seemed to be except for his money. Sebastian Boothe was 30 in 2007," Deeks explained. "He was the only child of Davis and Regina Boothe. Davis Boothe had a mid-five figure inheritance after he graduated college in the early 1970's and looked to get a start in the financial industry. Fifteen years later, he was the founder and CEO of Boothe Financial. At the time of his death, Davis Boothe was worth about $90 million."
"What do you know about Davis Boothe's death?" Hetty asked.
"Sebastian told me in passing his father drowned in the family swimming pool when Sebastian was fifteen, so 1992ish. After it all went to hell, I found the police report about the drowning. Nobody saw anything, a housekeeper found him around 7AM dead. He swam regularly before going to the office. No signs of foul play. Regina Boothe died of natural causes about six months before I met her son."
"How did you officially meet Mr. Boothe?"
"One afternoon, the waitress covering Boothe's table got a phone call that her mom was in a car accident. She went to the hospital and I covered her three customers since I was the only other person there not working in the kitchen. The two women sharing a piece of cheesecake didn't need much but refills of their coffee. I joked with Boothe that I knew his order. He laughed when I told him he'd have what he always had, a small bowl of tomato soup, a Caesar salad with grilled chicken, a sugar cookie with chocolate sprinkles and a bottle of Pellegrino water."
"You can do that from memory?" Eric asked.
"He never changed his lunch order. Carrie, the day waitress, had a running bet with Julio in the kitchen that Boothe would never change his order. He bought her a smoothie every Friday if Boothe had the same meal during the week. It was memorable. Boothe wasn't, well that's not true. He stuck out with his dress. Most of the male customers were locals or surfers."
"So dressed like Mr. Beale."
Deeks smiled at Eric. "Exactly Hetty. The dress code we had was no wetsuits, no wet clothing and the usual no shoes, no shirts, no service." Deeks pointed at the photo of Boothe on the screen. "That's probably a two hundred dollar Ralph Lauren custom sport shirt, three hundred dollar tailor-made pants, six hundred dollar Gucci loafers. That all made Boothe hard to miss."
"So the two of you started to talk."
"Yeah, he'd joke about the women in the restaurant. He called the young moms 'the hens' and I was the 'cock of the walk.'" Deeks shrugged. "I said 'Cock of the Walk' sounded like a good name for a chicken restaurant. Just small talk in the beginning. Then it got weird."
"What changed?" Kensi asked.
"On Monday, July 23rd, really early Tuesday the 24th, the cleaning crew was one man short so I dragged the trash out to the dumpsters out back. I saw a car with someone ducking down behind the wheel parked just off the bar property. It was a bright yellow MG-Midget, early 1970's, so the partial plate number I got made it easy to trace."
"Boothe." Kensi and Eric said simultaneously.
"Yep. I reviewed some of the security video and the car was hanging around for weeks. Again, different nights - a lot of nights when he didn't stop off for lunch. The car would show up at different times but a few hours a week, just sitting out of normal eyeshot."
"That's not a good car for surveillance." Eric pulled up a photo of Boothe's car from the LAPD file.
"Or stalking," Kensi added. "Why didn't you notice it earlier?"
"Wasn't really worried about what was going on off the property. Around the same time there were three underage girls roofied and raped at two different bars in the area. I was watching what was going on inside the bar every night." Deeks sighed. "And honestly, I was a bit overwhelmed just running the place. Running a bar is a full-time job, I was doing that alone with an expanding restaurant business and there were one or two investigations going at any time."
"If they kept you on the case, Detective, you were doing a good job," Hetty reassured.
Deeks knew where the story was going and wasn't so sure. "Thanks. Anyway, Tuesdays were shopping days for me for the bar. I had a van and I'd pick up flowers, non-tradition booze or food we'd need, whatever couldn't be delivered. Ruben Ramos was working as my handler and he'd be at the flower shop, which was another LAPD undercover front. Walking to the florist on the 24th, I was arrested and dragged downtown."
"Your interest in Mr. Boothe caught someone's attention," Hetty deduced.
"Pulling Boothe's license plate at 2:40AM set off alarms. The FBI wanted to meet with me. Well, not the FBI, Assistant Special Agent in Charge Andrea Miller." Deeks hit enter again and a five-year old photo of Agent Miller appeared. "She was the golden girl of the Violent Crimes Unit and wanted to know why a lowly undercover cop who washed out of the Legal Bureau was interfering with her investigation of Sebastian Boothe."
"Nice." Kensi comment.
"That didn't sit well with either Ruben or Bates. Since Miller was hell-bent on not sharing any intel and just getting it on the record that I was interfering with her case, I decided to leave. Much like you saw this morning, Hetty, I was told I didn't have her permission to leave. Bates told me to go and if anyone asked about the arrest, tell them that the FBI wanted me brought in because someone at the bar was the subject of a federal investigation."
"I do like that man," Hetty added.
"Miller relented. She said that among other crimes," Deeks threw air quotes around the phrase, "Boothe was a suspect in some financial nonsense including insider trading. I had to get back to the bar so they made plans and I made the dinner rush. Boothe shows up for the first time ever at dinner and said he heard I got arrested that day."
"He was following you." Kensi's concern was growing.
"I didn't see him following me but I would have been looking for a yellow Midget as a tail car. Wound up he owned six cars including a silver Toyota Prius which was about every third car in Venice that summer."
"What did you tell him?"
"That there was an assault on the beach Monday morning, which there was, and I fit the basic description a homeless man gave, which I did - blonde surfer dude. He stayed for dinner, said he liked the dinner crowd and would be back again and off he went. Until I took out the trash that night and there was the yellow Midget.
"Ruben came by the next day dressed as a plumber. We went to the basement for some bogus repairs and he handed me instructions along with info on all of Boothe's cars and his home. LAPD wanted me to stay friendly with Boothe, see if he'd open up."
"Did you think he was stalking you at the time, Detective?"
"I don't know what I thought, Hetty, except it was weird and he was an odd guy."
"Odd?" Kensi asked.
"Rituals. The same lunch every time he came in. Same dinner when he started showing up later in the day - heirloom tomato salad, grilled striped bass with green beans and new potatoes, another sugar cookie and a bottle of Pellegrino water. Paid the same way every time - a fifty dollar bill for lunch, a hundred dollar bill for dinner - brand new bills. Never wanted change so the over-tipping had the staff fighting over him. According to the FBI, he didn't own a cell phone. Didn't own a computer. Had a phone in all his cars, never used them. Rarely used the land-line in his home. All his bills for his home and cars were paid through an accountant who had written instructions but only met with Boothe face to face once a quarter."
Eric shook his head. "No electronic or social footprint."
"Exactly. For the longest time, I had the feeling when I said hello as I passed him at lunch that Carrie and I were the only persons he spoke to regularly who didn't work for him. LAPD wanted me to be a bit more aggressive with Boothe. Miller wasn't providing any intel and was trying to pressure LAPD higher ups to close the bar."
"Obviously, didn't work," Kensi said."
"It didn't work because Bates liked the results from the other bar investigations and because Miller was so aggressive and obnoxious that people enjoyed doing the exact opposite of her wishes." Deeks put another photo up on the big screen - this time a beach wedding in Malibu. "We're catering the Smith-Daniels wedding on the beach one Friday night in late August and I decide to up the ante. I saw him not far from the wedding party in a Chrysler PT Cruiser convertible."
"He showed up at the wedding? And in another vehicle that stands out?"
"Yeah, funny thing was I wasn't supposed to be there. Derek, the usual bartender for the catering gigs, got some bad sushi Wednesday night and wound up in the hospital Thursday with dehydration. I didn't know I was covering for him until Friday afternoon when he showed up to work and was still green around the gills. I had Derek babysit Boogie's and I worked the wedding."
"What did you do?" Kensi asked.
"Heather, one of the catering waitress, could tend bar in a pinch. They were bringing out the wedding cake so I put her behind the bar, took an ice pick and decided to visit with my buddy Boothe."
"Was that wise?" Hetty asked.
"Probably not. He was parked facing the wedding from the right. I made it look like I was picking some wine out of the back of the catering van and ran to the side of the parking lot. As I got closer, I see he's taking pictures. He had an old film camera with a big telephoto lens and was taking photos of the wedding from the driver's seat of his car. I crouched along the side of the car and jumped in the front passenger seat."
"That was not wise."
"No, but if you're going to confront a guy taking covert pictures, surprise and putting an ice pick into his ear gives the ice pick holder a real advantage."
"What did he do?"
"I explained that if he moved I'd see if I could push the ice pick in far enough to see if the tip would come out of his other ear. He sat perfectly still. I pulled the film out of the camera and took the two rolls he had sitting in the cup holder. Told Boothe to pop the trunk. He did. I then told him if I ever saw him following the girls working as waitresses again, he'd wish I used the ice pick. I took the camera, dropped it into the car truck - wouldn't want a theft charge after all - kept the film and walked away. Boothe hit the road in a hurry."
Kensi looked at Hetty, then Deeks, "Crude but effective."
"I thought so. Miller was furious. She didn't think I could sell being enough of a bad ass. I think us daring to have our own plan was more of the problem." Deeks hit a key and photos of him working the Smith-Daniels wedding popped up.
"Did those photos worry you, Mr. Deeks?"
"Again, it was odd. I had no reason to think he was violent or anything more than a weird rich guy who maybe did some inside trading."
"When did you next see Boothe?" Kensi asked.
"The following Monday. A messenger delivered a handwritten letter from Boothe just before lunch."
"A handwritten letter?" Eric was amazed.
"A handwritten letter. Remember, no computer, no smart phone, no nothing. It was on this really expensive stationery, inviting me to lunch at his house that day. He wanted to apologize in person for his inappropriate behavior - his words - and felt the least he could do was offer me lunch."
"Please don't tell me you went alone." Kensi said.
"No, called Ruben and told him I was going. I had a couple of guns in my apartment. Took the .32 snub nose, tucked it in my boot. Ruben showed up in his plumbers gear again and wired me for sound. Then I went to Boothe's home." Deeks hit the enter key on his computer and Boothe's home appeared.
"Wow." Eric said. The Malibu mansion could have been the home used in the "Iron Man" movies.
"Yeah, it was on the beach, Sea Lane Drive. Very white inside and out, lots of glass. Modern furniture, very little of it. Intentionally spartan and spare according to the person who put the place together for Boothe after his mother's death. He thought the views were all you needed."
"What happened when you got there?"
"Boothe brought me in, introduced me to his housekeeper and invited me to sit with him on the dining deck near the pool where his old man drowned. And that view was remarkable. Once outside, there was this nice lunch spread. Boothe offered me lunch and wanted to apologize for what happened. I didn't accept either."
"Why?"
"Because Marty the bar owner would be suspicious of a guy trailing his waitresses. Marty worked hard to keep the bar a decent place to work and there's no way he was putting up with someone creeping after the waitresses. So I asked him, if he wasn't creeping after the girls, was he a cop? He laughed, unbuttoned his shirt and said no, he wasn't a cop and wasn't wearing a wire. The funny thing, of course, is that I'm a cop and I was wearing a wire."
Kensi said, "But you successfully kept him on the defensive."
"That was the plan. He ate his lunch - tomato soup, a grilled chicken Caesar salad - what he would have had at the bar. He told me about himself, how he tended to his dying mother for two years and how he was just beginning to deal with people again. He saw how comfortable I was with people, how comfortable the waitresses were with customers and just wanted to relearn some social skills. Marty the bar owner was not mean about Boothe's admission, more indifferent."
"How did Boothe react?" Eric asked.
"He was really interested in getting back in Marty's good graces. He told me he had a secret. We walked along the deck to a doorway off what looked to be a guest bedroom. He pulled out a key, opened the door and invited me in. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw about six plasma screen TVs, probably a dozen laptops all stacked one on top of another. There were about six pieces of mismatched carry-on luggage."
"Did he open the luggage for you?" Hetty asked.
"No, but I knew from my burglary crew days they were probably full of jewelry and things like silver picture frames, Hummels, expensive knick-knacks. He had this smile, full of pride and said to me, 'Now you know my secret.'"
"Creepy," Kensi said.
"Weird. He said he started stealing things when he was in high school. A handheld video game here, walkman there, jewelry when he could get it, cellphones once his fellow students had them. In college, Stanford University, he took little things like girls earrings, wallets. Never sold a thing, never did anything but collect them. He opened a dresser drawer and it was just full of wallets. Cheap velcro ones, Fendi wallets, ones with chains on them. Another drawer had cellphones, a third had walkmans, iPods and Gameboys. He just stole things."
"Definitely creepy."
"What was weird was how excited he was to tell someone. The police shrink thought he was doing this for half his life and never told a soul. Marty the bar owner was the first guy who knew Boothe stole things."
"What happened next?"
"Marty the barkeep told Boothe that he was freaked out about having the waitresses followed."
"Smart move Detective, didn't make it about you."
"Exactly. I told him that if he was interested in one of the waitresses, ask them out but stop following them. I also told him one of the waitresses had an order of protection out on an old boyfriend - and she did, we had a photo of him behind the bar and were ready to deal with him if we had to. I told Boothe I was worried he was like Diane's creepy ex."
"Did he stop following you?"
"No. I purposely took out the trash that night and there he was. Showed up the following day for lunch like nothing happened and for a while, we were back to friendly barkeep and loyal customer. More cautious but mostly normal. The Thursday before Labor Day, Andrea Miller, who was complaining in her weekly meeting with Bates and Ruben about the case, walks in and sits next to me while I'm sitting at my back table trying to price out a bachelor party we were asked to host in our back room."
"This doesn't sound good," Eric noted.
"It wasn't. She starts playing with my hair and coming on to me."
Kensi's eyes narrowed. "What was she up to?"
"Nothing good. I rather forcefully and publicly told her to get away from the table and out of the bar. When she didn't stop, for the whole bar to hear, I told her that I didn't really think I had a type but I knew what I didn't like - forward women with big hair, bad blue contact and hooker red nail polish. She stormed out; I got a round of applause from the dinner crowd."
"Was Boothe there?" Kensi was not happy.
"Since the floor show was for his benefit, oh yeah. After he paid for his meal he asked Donna, his waitress, if he could stop by my table."
"Didn't just walk up?"
"I was given a wide berth by everyone to that point that night. Marty the bar owner was exactly what I called him, your friendly barkeep. He was never bad to people, rarely yelled, wasn't one to cause a scene, did everything to keep those things out of the bar. In a five minute span, I did all that. Anyway, Donna asked and I waved Boothe over. He sat down and just started laughing. Never saw him laugh like that. I started to laugh too. There was some small talk. Boothe mentioned having a business proposition about a catering gig at Boothe Financial he wanted to discuss after Labor Day and I agreed. Miller's very public display of affection and my reaction seemed to work."
"Was any other patron that forward with you, Mr. Deeks?"
"A few women made offers but running that place and running the stings LAPD was setting up was overwhelming at times. I was on the job just about three years, nearly two of them driving a desk in Legal. Looking back, Miller wasn't all that wrong. While I wasn't in over my head, I was treading water."
"Did Lt. Bates have any reaction to this?" Hetty asked.
"He thought she was up to something and was going to look into it. He never got back to me. At the end of September, we had this crazy Saturday night. USC was playing Washington on the big TV over the bar, bachelor party in the back room and just some rowdy people in the place. Around eight, a man gets into it with his girl, calls her a name. Some guy at the bar knows the girl, sees she's upset and tries to help her. One thing leads to another, a table gets turned over and suddenly we have the biggest brawl ever in the bar. I'm pulling people off each other, throwing them out of the bar. In the middle of this, I see Boothe, eating dinner just hypnotized by what's going on."
A suspicious Kensi asked, "Did the FBI set this up?"
"Not this time. Maybe it was a full moon but everyone was just nuts that night. I finally get things semi-calm when the cops show up. A couple of guys are bleeding; I'm bleeding. The girl who was in the middle of all this wanted to press charges so the LAPD shut us down. Everyone has to leave but Boothe and the people with dinner on the table were allowed to finish up while LAPD took statements. They all start drifting out. I'm giving my statement to the cops as friendly barkeep Marty when I realize my cellphone is gone."
"Boothe took it." Kensi just knew.
"Yep. Didn't dawn on me at the time. I was working at the end of the bar because we needed my usual table. After the fight, my shirt was ripped and the shirt pocket was actually torn off. I figured it was either lost or stolen in the melee. It wasn't an LAPD problem. That phone was just for bar business. The real plumber, the laundry service, my liquor guy were in there."
"How did you learn Boothe took it?" Kensi asked.
"He called the bar's phone early Sunday morning as I was surveying the damage. He apologized that he wasn't much help in the fight. He said he saw my phone hit the ground and he grabbed it for safe keeping."
"You weren't sure?" Hetty asked.
"He could have kept it. He showed me a drawer full of cellphones but he was willing to return it. I was suspicious but honestly, I needed that phone. I asked if it was alright if I picked it up and Boothe said sure. That's when it all sort of fell apart." Deeks hit a key and a photo of a US Naval Academy midshipman appeared. "Eric, I think this is your part."
"Corbert Anderson Moran III, Annapolis graduate, dual major in systems engineering and cyber security. Was all about drone projects and weapons design. He was splitting his time between running a number of weapon projects out of China Lake and testings them out in Coronado."
Eric put up Moran's military record and continued. "Received nothing but excellent performance reviews through his first four years. Designed several impressive drones. Modified two designs of a weaponized drone and a spy drone when they both failed. And they were expensive failures. Lt. Moran's modifications fixed design flaws in both drones and they worked. That put him in conflict with Lt. Commander Andrew Emerson who designed the original drones. Emerson was in line for a graduate degree spot in Annapolis that would have been worth millions once he graduated and finished his commitment to the Navy. Moran got the nod instead."
"I'm guessing that didn't sit well with Emerson." Hetty surmised.
"No. After Moran's death, NCIS Agent Yates who investigated Emerson thought the Commander was capable of a lot but not killing Moran. He was never really a suspect."
"How does that involve Boothe?" Kensi asked.
"After Moran got the slot at the Academy, his commanding officer got some pictures. The commanding officer had to ask, Moran had to tell."
"He was gay," Kensi said.
"Yes. He had a boyfriend teaching computer design at Cal Tech, Dr. Michael Mills." Eric put a photo of Mills on the big screen. "Going back and forth between China Lake and Coronado freed him up to have a life that the Navy didn't know about."
"But Commander Emerson did," Hetty said.
"Yes. Not a month after he got the offer to go back to Annapolis, he was brought in and asked to leave quietly when his commitment was done. Otherwise, he was released from all responsibilities to the Navy."
Hetty sighed. "Unfortunate outcome of an unfortunate policy."
"I can take it from here, Eric," Deeks interrupted. "Moran wound up working for a special effects company designing computerized explosions and other cool stuff for movies. He also was a military adviser for movies and television shows. He landed on his feet financially but Dr. Mills said he changed when he was dismissed. Moran loved the Navy and since his father and his mother's father were both career Navy, the dismissal devastated him. He was estranged from his family. He and Dr. Mills were on a break when I saw Moran."
"Was he at the bar the night of the fight?" Kensi asked.
"No, Moran was at Boothe's place. Boothe left me in his living room when he went to get my phone. Not sure if Moran knew where he was but I saw him tied to a chair by the pool."
"Tied? How?"
"Rope. It looked like the kind of rope people use to anchor boats. Boothe had both a 64-foot yacht that was his old man's and from what the marina said was never used and a classic 1996 38-foot Cigarette boat, which he did use. Very "Miami Vice"-ish. He'd have access to that sort of rope." Deeks took a deep breath. "Moran was tied rather elaborately to the one of the lounge chairs on the deck by the pool. There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and some what looked like some recreational pharmaceuticals on a side table."
"Do you think he was there willingly?" Hetty wondered. "Lt. Moran?"
"Moran at that point had no ability to consent to where he was or what he was doing. Boothe, who by the way was wearing silk pajamas that Hef would envy, reappeared with my phone and then excused himself, he had company. I thanked him for saving my phone and got the hell out of there."
"Why?"
"Lt. Moran didn't look like his Annapolis graduate photo anymore." Deeks put up a picture of Moran as a civilian on the big screen. Taken at a beach volleyball game, Moran was shirtless, with a large tattoo covering most of his chest. He was about six foot, long blond hair, blue eyes and tan.
"Oh my God," Eric said. "That picture isn't in his records. That photo..."
Deeks put up his LAPD issued Edward Michael Martin driver's license photo, finishing Eric's thoughts. "We looked alike. And I'll be honest, it freaked me out."
"No beard back then, Mr Deeks?" Hetty asked.
Deeks saw Kensi's eyes were as wide as saucers. "No, grew it after the case. Also cut my hair to this length." Deeks pointed to his head before he cleared the driver's license photo off the big screen. "I got back to the bar and sent Ruben and Bates an e-mail that I needed to see them and gave them a brief rundown on Saturday and Sunday. Cops came by around four and told me I could reopen Monday so I had the night off. Didn't hear from either of them. All day Monday, nothing. Monday night, we've got football on the big TV and the USC crowd is back for Carson Palmer against the Pats when Bates walks in and greets me like long lost family."
"Did he ever do that before?"
"First and last time he appeared on an undercover of mine. Told me my cousin Andrea was unhappy but he thought I should let her cool off for a while. I asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner and just then, Boothe walks in. Bates says we should go out for dinner, I needed a change of scenery so I left just as Boothe was being seated."
"How often did you leave the bar, Mr. Deeks?"
"Rarely at night. Some of the Sundays in the summer were really dead so I left early but with all the security camera feeds in my apartment, I could watch what was going on. Dinner that night was at Anna's with LAPD watching Boothe at Boogie's. Ruben was at dinner, so was Vern Johnson from Missing Persons. Moran was working on a television show that was shooting that Sunday night. He never showed. He was not someone who didn't show up for work so one of the PA's was detailed to his home. Not there. Didn't answer calls. The executive producer did some cop shows over the years and had friends in the Department including Roger Bates. The producer is also former military so he was tight with Moran on the set. Called in a favor and had Moran listed as a missing person."
"Where was Ms. Miller during this meeting?"
"She was sent all the info, including the missing persons report on Moran. She asked Bates if this was my first undercover assignment and if the Department knew I was a prude at best and a bigoted homophobe at worse."
Kensi gasped. "Is she kidding?"
"No. She declined attending the meeting. She said that Boothe was grown man whose interest in men or women was none of our business." Deeks shrugged. "If he wasn't the focus of an FBI investigation from the Violent Crime Unit, if he wasn't following me around or if he wasn't claiming he was following me around because he didn't know how to deal with people, maybe. If Lt. Moran wasn't so wasted when I saw him and missing after that, maybe. All of this together was a problem."
"What did you do?"
"All the beach substations were told to look for Moran. He was a surfer. They parked a patrol vehicle outside his West Hollywood apartment. Boothe was more of a problem. The Department couldn't tail him. Rich guy, no record..."
"Even with all the stolen goods in his pool house?"
"The FBI wanted that as a fallback position to whatever they were doing. I spent the next few days at the bar. Boothe showed up for lunch one day with a woman."
"Was that a first?" Eric asked.
"First mealtime companion, male or female, ever," Deeks told them. He threw a photo up of a slim, blonde woman. "Elizabeth Kelly was, at the time, the assistant CFO at Boothe Financial. She was about his age, Stanford grad at 19, Wharton MBA/JD three years later. I never spoke with her except at the bar but she told investigators that she was asked to drop by Boothe's place out of the blue to discuss some charitable ideas he had. She was surprised when the meeting was over and he invited her to such a kitschy little place like Boogie's."
"What happened to Miss Kelly?"
"She's the CEO of Boothe Financial. All the business columnists at the Times and financial magazines said she was the real deal and was the right person to run the company while Boothe was in jail. Speaking of which," Deeks took a deep breath, "on Friday, October 5th, a headless body was found by an early morning walker washed up on the rocks in Portuguese Bend. Big tattoo across the torso..."
"Moran," Kensi and Eric said in unison.
"Yes." Deeks put crime scene photos up. "I get a call on the bar's phone from Bates just as the lunch crowd started in telling me to stay put, Ruben would be dropping by for a briefing. Lunch crowd comes, lunch crowd goes and around two-thirty, in walks Boothe for lunch. Carrie takes his order and I stop by for a chat to discuss Elizabeth Kelly, some charity ideas he has and how he wants Boogie's to cater an event on the beach. We're having a nice talk when Ruben comes in with about a half dozen uniforms."
Kensi's phone rang. "Hello." She listened for a few seconds before saying "okay" and handing the phone to Deeks. "Bates" she mouthed to him.
"I'm here," Deeks said into the phone.
"Are you not answering my calls on purpose or does the Department have to issue you a new cellphone?" Bates demanded.
"I'm going to put you on speaker," Deeks told him. "You're on with Kensi Blye, Hetty Lange and NCIS Technical Analyst Eric Beale."
"I finally may have some good news. Andrea Miller was called back to Washington rather suddenly after this morning's meeting," Bates told them. As everyone in Ops eyes turned to Hetty, Bates said, "I don't know who you called Ms. Lange, but when they told Miller to return to Quantico, she was booking her flight at the elevator door."
"I just explained to a friend that we needed a few days to prepare to work with Miss Miller and they were happy to call for a review of her handling of the case in front of an FBI assembly tomorrow. It is at 8AM Eastern time since she's shown her appreciation for an early morning meeting," Hetty said with a smile.
"Well, I'd like a meeting with you, Deeks. I'm guessing Agent Blye and Ms. Lange will want to be there."
"Do you remember where we met during the Clarence Fisk investigation?" Kensi asked.
"The place in the marina, sure. I need some coffee and Ramos needs to calm down."
"Still muttering in Spanish?" Deeks joked.
"Spanish, yes. Muttering, no," Bates joked right back. Andrea Miller's absence seemed to improve everyone's mood.
"Why don't you get some breakfast and we'll meet in an hour. Lieutenant, if you could, would you and Sgt. Ramos to turn off your phones before leaving your office," Hetty asked.
"And I'll watch for a tail. See you there." Bates disconnected.
Deeks handed her phone back to Kensi. "I'm sorry about all of this."
"Mr. Deeks, no apologies needed. Why don't you continue with the debrief and we'll make plans accordingly."
"OK, it gets a little sketchy for me at this point," Deeks told them as he kept an eye on Kensi. "When the uniforms yelled freeze and moved to our table, Boothe picked up his knife and ran it through my neck."
-30-
AUTHOR: tess_dicorsi
RATING: R
GENRE: Mystery
CHARACTERS: Ensemble
DISCLAIMER: Recognizable characters are not mine. Just playing with them and promise not to break them. There are a few original characters, they're mine. I'm also trying not to break them.
SUMMARY: An old collar from the LAPD and an angry colleague from the FBI are back and looking for Marty Deeks. Established Deeks-Kensi. Multi-chapter story.
2. "The past actually happened but history is only what someone wrote down." - A. Whitney Brown
"In 2006, LAPD confiscated some commercial real estate in a drug bust," Deeks began. "Most was auctioned off but the Department held to on a couple of properties they thought had possibilities. One place was a bar-restaurant in Venice called Ruby's which in other incarnations was Beach Beer Bar, Seashore Inn and my favorite, Long Island Ice Tea. Lt. Bates wanted to run a year-long operation out of it just to see what would happen. Since I was coming off nearly five months with a burglary crew and looked like a Venice guy, I got the assignment of being the bar's new owner."
"What did you know about running a bar?" Kensi asked.
"Bates's sister-in-law was in the restaurant business. She was able to walk me through what I needed to know to look like I knew how to run a bar-restaurant. After installing a ton of surveillance equipment in and around the place and wiring up the living space above the bar that was going to be my undercover apartment, Boogie's opened on February 12th." Deeks hit enter on his laptop and photos of Boogie's popped up on the big screen
"Boogie's?" Eric perked up. "You ran Boogie's?" Eric stared at Deeks, his hand coming to his mouth. "Oh my God, you're Marty."
"Who else would he be, Mr. Beale?" Hetty wondered.
"Edward Michael Martin, please, call me Marty. Everyone does," Deeks answered Hetty with practiced ease. "The bar was far enough away from places I hung out as a kid that LAPD wasn't too worried about someone remembering me but it was just easier to be 'Marty' for this set-up. A year is a long time and I was still fairly green."
"Marty had the best life. Surfed all morning, hung out at Boogie's lunch until closing. Free liquor, free food, big table in the back, best looking waitresses around always flirting with him. He was a rock star," Eric almost sighed in admiration.
Deeks burst Eric's bubble. "OK, the food wasn't free since it came out of the budget. No drinking on duty, just ginger ale, and I was always on duty. I was usually working the books, ordering food and running the business at the big table in the back and the best looking waitresses were usually complaining about the customers, not flirting."
Hetty was growing bored, paging through Deeks's notes. "Gentlemen, can we continue?"
"Sorry. The first few months of the undercover assignment were really successful. Two morons who thought they were the next Tony Soprano tried to shake down the place for extra payments for trash removal. They were quickly set up and arrested. Two real shake down guys were involved with the linen service. We got someone inside their business, wound up not only closing down the kickback business but there was a pretty good human trafficking trade in the laundries that was stopped. Jess Traynor ran that operation." Deeks shook his head, as if to clear it. "There was a building inspector looking for a bribe, a couple of narcotics operations. It worked."
"Mr. Deeks," Hetty looked up from the case notes, "Boogie's was clearing five thousand a month in profit, is that correct?"
Deeks nodded. "I figured to keep the operation going the place couldn't bleed money. Now, I wasn't getting paid by the bar so that added to the bottom-line but I found other revenue streams that could help with investigations. The guys who ran it as Long Island Ice Tea were from Brooklyn. They put a window on the side of the building like you see in New York pizzerias. They didn't stay opened long enough to have the pizza oven delivered and installed but the window was there. I paid a wanna be actress who lived about three blocks away to pick up some pastries at a local bakery, make some coffee and open the window at 6AM and sell the coffee and pastries until she ran out or had auditions. That gave the place a morning presence. I worked for a caterer in college and law school so we started catering beach weddings and parties, which opened up other investigations. Bates's sister-in-law knew a chef who needed extra money after a divorce so he did lunch at a big time restaurant downtown and dinner for Boogie's. Frank had a chef friend coming out of rehab and wanted to work days so he could go to meetings at night. A week before Memorial Day, Boogie's started opening for lunch. That's important."
Kensi looked at Deeks, "Why was that important?"
"Sometime around 4th of July, a guy started coming in for a late lunch. After two o'clock, usually twice during the week, sometimes but not always one day over the weekend but never on a fixed day."
"Boothe?" Hetty asked.
"Sebastian Boothe. I didn't pay much attention to him in the beginning except he ate alone, tipped well and was one of the few men there after two o'clock. After two, Boogie's got a bunch of moms walking around with kids in strollers coming in for coffee and cheesecake. Usually not a lot of guys in that group - maybe a male nanny or a father with the kids for the day but Boothe started showing up a couple of times a week." Deeks hit enter again on his laptop and a photo of Sebastian Boothe hit the big screen. He was about six foot, slight build - maybe 165 pounds - light brown hair, green eyes, clean-shaven.
"Kind of an average guy," Eric commented.
"Seemed to be except for his money. Sebastian Boothe was 30 in 2007," Deeks explained. "He was the only child of Davis and Regina Boothe. Davis Boothe had a mid-five figure inheritance after he graduated college in the early 1970's and looked to get a start in the financial industry. Fifteen years later, he was the founder and CEO of Boothe Financial. At the time of his death, Davis Boothe was worth about $90 million."
"What do you know about Davis Boothe's death?" Hetty asked.
"Sebastian told me in passing his father drowned in the family swimming pool when Sebastian was fifteen, so 1992ish. After it all went to hell, I found the police report about the drowning. Nobody saw anything, a housekeeper found him around 7AM dead. He swam regularly before going to the office. No signs of foul play. Regina Boothe died of natural causes about six months before I met her son."
"How did you officially meet Mr. Boothe?"
"One afternoon, the waitress covering Boothe's table got a phone call that her mom was in a car accident. She went to the hospital and I covered her three customers since I was the only other person there not working in the kitchen. The two women sharing a piece of cheesecake didn't need much but refills of their coffee. I joked with Boothe that I knew his order. He laughed when I told him he'd have what he always had, a small bowl of tomato soup, a Caesar salad with grilled chicken, a sugar cookie with chocolate sprinkles and a bottle of Pellegrino water."
"You can do that from memory?" Eric asked.
"He never changed his lunch order. Carrie, the day waitress, had a running bet with Julio in the kitchen that Boothe would never change his order. He bought her a smoothie every Friday if Boothe had the same meal during the week. It was memorable. Boothe wasn't, well that's not true. He stuck out with his dress. Most of the male customers were locals or surfers."
"So dressed like Mr. Beale."
Deeks smiled at Eric. "Exactly Hetty. The dress code we had was no wetsuits, no wet clothing and the usual no shoes, no shirts, no service." Deeks pointed at the photo of Boothe on the screen. "That's probably a two hundred dollar Ralph Lauren custom sport shirt, three hundred dollar tailor-made pants, six hundred dollar Gucci loafers. That all made Boothe hard to miss."
"So the two of you started to talk."
"Yeah, he'd joke about the women in the restaurant. He called the young moms 'the hens' and I was the 'cock of the walk.'" Deeks shrugged. "I said 'Cock of the Walk' sounded like a good name for a chicken restaurant. Just small talk in the beginning. Then it got weird."
"What changed?" Kensi asked.
"On Monday, July 23rd, really early Tuesday the 24th, the cleaning crew was one man short so I dragged the trash out to the dumpsters out back. I saw a car with someone ducking down behind the wheel parked just off the bar property. It was a bright yellow MG-Midget, early 1970's, so the partial plate number I got made it easy to trace."
"Boothe." Kensi and Eric said simultaneously.
"Yep. I reviewed some of the security video and the car was hanging around for weeks. Again, different nights - a lot of nights when he didn't stop off for lunch. The car would show up at different times but a few hours a week, just sitting out of normal eyeshot."
"That's not a good car for surveillance." Eric pulled up a photo of Boothe's car from the LAPD file.
"Or stalking," Kensi added. "Why didn't you notice it earlier?"
"Wasn't really worried about what was going on off the property. Around the same time there were three underage girls roofied and raped at two different bars in the area. I was watching what was going on inside the bar every night." Deeks sighed. "And honestly, I was a bit overwhelmed just running the place. Running a bar is a full-time job, I was doing that alone with an expanding restaurant business and there were one or two investigations going at any time."
"If they kept you on the case, Detective, you were doing a good job," Hetty reassured.
Deeks knew where the story was going and wasn't so sure. "Thanks. Anyway, Tuesdays were shopping days for me for the bar. I had a van and I'd pick up flowers, non-tradition booze or food we'd need, whatever couldn't be delivered. Ruben Ramos was working as my handler and he'd be at the flower shop, which was another LAPD undercover front. Walking to the florist on the 24th, I was arrested and dragged downtown."
"Your interest in Mr. Boothe caught someone's attention," Hetty deduced.
"Pulling Boothe's license plate at 2:40AM set off alarms. The FBI wanted to meet with me. Well, not the FBI, Assistant Special Agent in Charge Andrea Miller." Deeks hit enter again and a five-year old photo of Agent Miller appeared. "She was the golden girl of the Violent Crimes Unit and wanted to know why a lowly undercover cop who washed out of the Legal Bureau was interfering with her investigation of Sebastian Boothe."
"Nice." Kensi comment.
"That didn't sit well with either Ruben or Bates. Since Miller was hell-bent on not sharing any intel and just getting it on the record that I was interfering with her case, I decided to leave. Much like you saw this morning, Hetty, I was told I didn't have her permission to leave. Bates told me to go and if anyone asked about the arrest, tell them that the FBI wanted me brought in because someone at the bar was the subject of a federal investigation."
"I do like that man," Hetty added.
"Miller relented. She said that among other crimes," Deeks threw air quotes around the phrase, "Boothe was a suspect in some financial nonsense including insider trading. I had to get back to the bar so they made plans and I made the dinner rush. Boothe shows up for the first time ever at dinner and said he heard I got arrested that day."
"He was following you." Kensi's concern was growing.
"I didn't see him following me but I would have been looking for a yellow Midget as a tail car. Wound up he owned six cars including a silver Toyota Prius which was about every third car in Venice that summer."
"What did you tell him?"
"That there was an assault on the beach Monday morning, which there was, and I fit the basic description a homeless man gave, which I did - blonde surfer dude. He stayed for dinner, said he liked the dinner crowd and would be back again and off he went. Until I took out the trash that night and there was the yellow Midget.
"Ruben came by the next day dressed as a plumber. We went to the basement for some bogus repairs and he handed me instructions along with info on all of Boothe's cars and his home. LAPD wanted me to stay friendly with Boothe, see if he'd open up."
"Did you think he was stalking you at the time, Detective?"
"I don't know what I thought, Hetty, except it was weird and he was an odd guy."
"Odd?" Kensi asked.
"Rituals. The same lunch every time he came in. Same dinner when he started showing up later in the day - heirloom tomato salad, grilled striped bass with green beans and new potatoes, another sugar cookie and a bottle of Pellegrino water. Paid the same way every time - a fifty dollar bill for lunch, a hundred dollar bill for dinner - brand new bills. Never wanted change so the over-tipping had the staff fighting over him. According to the FBI, he didn't own a cell phone. Didn't own a computer. Had a phone in all his cars, never used them. Rarely used the land-line in his home. All his bills for his home and cars were paid through an accountant who had written instructions but only met with Boothe face to face once a quarter."
Eric shook his head. "No electronic or social footprint."
"Exactly. For the longest time, I had the feeling when I said hello as I passed him at lunch that Carrie and I were the only persons he spoke to regularly who didn't work for him. LAPD wanted me to be a bit more aggressive with Boothe. Miller wasn't providing any intel and was trying to pressure LAPD higher ups to close the bar."
"Obviously, didn't work," Kensi said."
"It didn't work because Bates liked the results from the other bar investigations and because Miller was so aggressive and obnoxious that people enjoyed doing the exact opposite of her wishes." Deeks put another photo up on the big screen - this time a beach wedding in Malibu. "We're catering the Smith-Daniels wedding on the beach one Friday night in late August and I decide to up the ante. I saw him not far from the wedding party in a Chrysler PT Cruiser convertible."
"He showed up at the wedding? And in another vehicle that stands out?"
"Yeah, funny thing was I wasn't supposed to be there. Derek, the usual bartender for the catering gigs, got some bad sushi Wednesday night and wound up in the hospital Thursday with dehydration. I didn't know I was covering for him until Friday afternoon when he showed up to work and was still green around the gills. I had Derek babysit Boogie's and I worked the wedding."
"What did you do?" Kensi asked.
"Heather, one of the catering waitress, could tend bar in a pinch. They were bringing out the wedding cake so I put her behind the bar, took an ice pick and decided to visit with my buddy Boothe."
"Was that wise?" Hetty asked.
"Probably not. He was parked facing the wedding from the right. I made it look like I was picking some wine out of the back of the catering van and ran to the side of the parking lot. As I got closer, I see he's taking pictures. He had an old film camera with a big telephoto lens and was taking photos of the wedding from the driver's seat of his car. I crouched along the side of the car and jumped in the front passenger seat."
"That was not wise."
"No, but if you're going to confront a guy taking covert pictures, surprise and putting an ice pick into his ear gives the ice pick holder a real advantage."
"What did he do?"
"I explained that if he moved I'd see if I could push the ice pick in far enough to see if the tip would come out of his other ear. He sat perfectly still. I pulled the film out of the camera and took the two rolls he had sitting in the cup holder. Told Boothe to pop the trunk. He did. I then told him if I ever saw him following the girls working as waitresses again, he'd wish I used the ice pick. I took the camera, dropped it into the car truck - wouldn't want a theft charge after all - kept the film and walked away. Boothe hit the road in a hurry."
Kensi looked at Hetty, then Deeks, "Crude but effective."
"I thought so. Miller was furious. She didn't think I could sell being enough of a bad ass. I think us daring to have our own plan was more of the problem." Deeks hit a key and photos of him working the Smith-Daniels wedding popped up.
"Did those photos worry you, Mr. Deeks?"
"Again, it was odd. I had no reason to think he was violent or anything more than a weird rich guy who maybe did some inside trading."
"When did you next see Boothe?" Kensi asked.
"The following Monday. A messenger delivered a handwritten letter from Boothe just before lunch."
"A handwritten letter?" Eric was amazed.
"A handwritten letter. Remember, no computer, no smart phone, no nothing. It was on this really expensive stationery, inviting me to lunch at his house that day. He wanted to apologize in person for his inappropriate behavior - his words - and felt the least he could do was offer me lunch."
"Please don't tell me you went alone." Kensi said.
"No, called Ruben and told him I was going. I had a couple of guns in my apartment. Took the .32 snub nose, tucked it in my boot. Ruben showed up in his plumbers gear again and wired me for sound. Then I went to Boothe's home." Deeks hit the enter key on his computer and Boothe's home appeared.
"Wow." Eric said. The Malibu mansion could have been the home used in the "Iron Man" movies.
"Yeah, it was on the beach, Sea Lane Drive. Very white inside and out, lots of glass. Modern furniture, very little of it. Intentionally spartan and spare according to the person who put the place together for Boothe after his mother's death. He thought the views were all you needed."
"What happened when you got there?"
"Boothe brought me in, introduced me to his housekeeper and invited me to sit with him on the dining deck near the pool where his old man drowned. And that view was remarkable. Once outside, there was this nice lunch spread. Boothe offered me lunch and wanted to apologize for what happened. I didn't accept either."
"Why?"
"Because Marty the bar owner would be suspicious of a guy trailing his waitresses. Marty worked hard to keep the bar a decent place to work and there's no way he was putting up with someone creeping after the waitresses. So I asked him, if he wasn't creeping after the girls, was he a cop? He laughed, unbuttoned his shirt and said no, he wasn't a cop and wasn't wearing a wire. The funny thing, of course, is that I'm a cop and I was wearing a wire."
Kensi said, "But you successfully kept him on the defensive."
"That was the plan. He ate his lunch - tomato soup, a grilled chicken Caesar salad - what he would have had at the bar. He told me about himself, how he tended to his dying mother for two years and how he was just beginning to deal with people again. He saw how comfortable I was with people, how comfortable the waitresses were with customers and just wanted to relearn some social skills. Marty the bar owner was not mean about Boothe's admission, more indifferent."
"How did Boothe react?" Eric asked.
"He was really interested in getting back in Marty's good graces. He told me he had a secret. We walked along the deck to a doorway off what looked to be a guest bedroom. He pulled out a key, opened the door and invited me in. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw about six plasma screen TVs, probably a dozen laptops all stacked one on top of another. There were about six pieces of mismatched carry-on luggage."
"Did he open the luggage for you?" Hetty asked.
"No, but I knew from my burglary crew days they were probably full of jewelry and things like silver picture frames, Hummels, expensive knick-knacks. He had this smile, full of pride and said to me, 'Now you know my secret.'"
"Creepy," Kensi said.
"Weird. He said he started stealing things when he was in high school. A handheld video game here, walkman there, jewelry when he could get it, cellphones once his fellow students had them. In college, Stanford University, he took little things like girls earrings, wallets. Never sold a thing, never did anything but collect them. He opened a dresser drawer and it was just full of wallets. Cheap velcro ones, Fendi wallets, ones with chains on them. Another drawer had cellphones, a third had walkmans, iPods and Gameboys. He just stole things."
"Definitely creepy."
"What was weird was how excited he was to tell someone. The police shrink thought he was doing this for half his life and never told a soul. Marty the bar owner was the first guy who knew Boothe stole things."
"What happened next?"
"Marty the barkeep told Boothe that he was freaked out about having the waitresses followed."
"Smart move Detective, didn't make it about you."
"Exactly. I told him that if he was interested in one of the waitresses, ask them out but stop following them. I also told him one of the waitresses had an order of protection out on an old boyfriend - and she did, we had a photo of him behind the bar and were ready to deal with him if we had to. I told Boothe I was worried he was like Diane's creepy ex."
"Did he stop following you?"
"No. I purposely took out the trash that night and there he was. Showed up the following day for lunch like nothing happened and for a while, we were back to friendly barkeep and loyal customer. More cautious but mostly normal. The Thursday before Labor Day, Andrea Miller, who was complaining in her weekly meeting with Bates and Ruben about the case, walks in and sits next to me while I'm sitting at my back table trying to price out a bachelor party we were asked to host in our back room."
"This doesn't sound good," Eric noted.
"It wasn't. She starts playing with my hair and coming on to me."
Kensi's eyes narrowed. "What was she up to?"
"Nothing good. I rather forcefully and publicly told her to get away from the table and out of the bar. When she didn't stop, for the whole bar to hear, I told her that I didn't really think I had a type but I knew what I didn't like - forward women with big hair, bad blue contact and hooker red nail polish. She stormed out; I got a round of applause from the dinner crowd."
"Was Boothe there?" Kensi was not happy.
"Since the floor show was for his benefit, oh yeah. After he paid for his meal he asked Donna, his waitress, if he could stop by my table."
"Didn't just walk up?"
"I was given a wide berth by everyone to that point that night. Marty the bar owner was exactly what I called him, your friendly barkeep. He was never bad to people, rarely yelled, wasn't one to cause a scene, did everything to keep those things out of the bar. In a five minute span, I did all that. Anyway, Donna asked and I waved Boothe over. He sat down and just started laughing. Never saw him laugh like that. I started to laugh too. There was some small talk. Boothe mentioned having a business proposition about a catering gig at Boothe Financial he wanted to discuss after Labor Day and I agreed. Miller's very public display of affection and my reaction seemed to work."
"Was any other patron that forward with you, Mr. Deeks?"
"A few women made offers but running that place and running the stings LAPD was setting up was overwhelming at times. I was on the job just about three years, nearly two of them driving a desk in Legal. Looking back, Miller wasn't all that wrong. While I wasn't in over my head, I was treading water."
"Did Lt. Bates have any reaction to this?" Hetty asked.
"He thought she was up to something and was going to look into it. He never got back to me. At the end of September, we had this crazy Saturday night. USC was playing Washington on the big TV over the bar, bachelor party in the back room and just some rowdy people in the place. Around eight, a man gets into it with his girl, calls her a name. Some guy at the bar knows the girl, sees she's upset and tries to help her. One thing leads to another, a table gets turned over and suddenly we have the biggest brawl ever in the bar. I'm pulling people off each other, throwing them out of the bar. In the middle of this, I see Boothe, eating dinner just hypnotized by what's going on."
A suspicious Kensi asked, "Did the FBI set this up?"
"Not this time. Maybe it was a full moon but everyone was just nuts that night. I finally get things semi-calm when the cops show up. A couple of guys are bleeding; I'm bleeding. The girl who was in the middle of all this wanted to press charges so the LAPD shut us down. Everyone has to leave but Boothe and the people with dinner on the table were allowed to finish up while LAPD took statements. They all start drifting out. I'm giving my statement to the cops as friendly barkeep Marty when I realize my cellphone is gone."
"Boothe took it." Kensi just knew.
"Yep. Didn't dawn on me at the time. I was working at the end of the bar because we needed my usual table. After the fight, my shirt was ripped and the shirt pocket was actually torn off. I figured it was either lost or stolen in the melee. It wasn't an LAPD problem. That phone was just for bar business. The real plumber, the laundry service, my liquor guy were in there."
"How did you learn Boothe took it?" Kensi asked.
"He called the bar's phone early Sunday morning as I was surveying the damage. He apologized that he wasn't much help in the fight. He said he saw my phone hit the ground and he grabbed it for safe keeping."
"You weren't sure?" Hetty asked.
"He could have kept it. He showed me a drawer full of cellphones but he was willing to return it. I was suspicious but honestly, I needed that phone. I asked if it was alright if I picked it up and Boothe said sure. That's when it all sort of fell apart." Deeks hit a key and a photo of a US Naval Academy midshipman appeared. "Eric, I think this is your part."
"Corbert Anderson Moran III, Annapolis graduate, dual major in systems engineering and cyber security. Was all about drone projects and weapons design. He was splitting his time between running a number of weapon projects out of China Lake and testings them out in Coronado."
Eric put up Moran's military record and continued. "Received nothing but excellent performance reviews through his first four years. Designed several impressive drones. Modified two designs of a weaponized drone and a spy drone when they both failed. And they were expensive failures. Lt. Moran's modifications fixed design flaws in both drones and they worked. That put him in conflict with Lt. Commander Andrew Emerson who designed the original drones. Emerson was in line for a graduate degree spot in Annapolis that would have been worth millions once he graduated and finished his commitment to the Navy. Moran got the nod instead."
"I'm guessing that didn't sit well with Emerson." Hetty surmised.
"No. After Moran's death, NCIS Agent Yates who investigated Emerson thought the Commander was capable of a lot but not killing Moran. He was never really a suspect."
"How does that involve Boothe?" Kensi asked.
"After Moran got the slot at the Academy, his commanding officer got some pictures. The commanding officer had to ask, Moran had to tell."
"He was gay," Kensi said.
"Yes. He had a boyfriend teaching computer design at Cal Tech, Dr. Michael Mills." Eric put a photo of Mills on the big screen. "Going back and forth between China Lake and Coronado freed him up to have a life that the Navy didn't know about."
"But Commander Emerson did," Hetty said.
"Yes. Not a month after he got the offer to go back to Annapolis, he was brought in and asked to leave quietly when his commitment was done. Otherwise, he was released from all responsibilities to the Navy."
Hetty sighed. "Unfortunate outcome of an unfortunate policy."
"I can take it from here, Eric," Deeks interrupted. "Moran wound up working for a special effects company designing computerized explosions and other cool stuff for movies. He also was a military adviser for movies and television shows. He landed on his feet financially but Dr. Mills said he changed when he was dismissed. Moran loved the Navy and since his father and his mother's father were both career Navy, the dismissal devastated him. He was estranged from his family. He and Dr. Mills were on a break when I saw Moran."
"Was he at the bar the night of the fight?" Kensi asked.
"No, Moran was at Boothe's place. Boothe left me in his living room when he went to get my phone. Not sure if Moran knew where he was but I saw him tied to a chair by the pool."
"Tied? How?"
"Rope. It looked like the kind of rope people use to anchor boats. Boothe had both a 64-foot yacht that was his old man's and from what the marina said was never used and a classic 1996 38-foot Cigarette boat, which he did use. Very "Miami Vice"-ish. He'd have access to that sort of rope." Deeks took a deep breath. "Moran was tied rather elaborately to the one of the lounge chairs on the deck by the pool. There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and some what looked like some recreational pharmaceuticals on a side table."
"Do you think he was there willingly?" Hetty wondered. "Lt. Moran?"
"Moran at that point had no ability to consent to where he was or what he was doing. Boothe, who by the way was wearing silk pajamas that Hef would envy, reappeared with my phone and then excused himself, he had company. I thanked him for saving my phone and got the hell out of there."
"Why?"
"Lt. Moran didn't look like his Annapolis graduate photo anymore." Deeks put up a picture of Moran as a civilian on the big screen. Taken at a beach volleyball game, Moran was shirtless, with a large tattoo covering most of his chest. He was about six foot, long blond hair, blue eyes and tan.
"Oh my God," Eric said. "That picture isn't in his records. That photo..."
Deeks put up his LAPD issued Edward Michael Martin driver's license photo, finishing Eric's thoughts. "We looked alike. And I'll be honest, it freaked me out."
"No beard back then, Mr Deeks?" Hetty asked.
Deeks saw Kensi's eyes were as wide as saucers. "No, grew it after the case. Also cut my hair to this length." Deeks pointed to his head before he cleared the driver's license photo off the big screen. "I got back to the bar and sent Ruben and Bates an e-mail that I needed to see them and gave them a brief rundown on Saturday and Sunday. Cops came by around four and told me I could reopen Monday so I had the night off. Didn't hear from either of them. All day Monday, nothing. Monday night, we've got football on the big TV and the USC crowd is back for Carson Palmer against the Pats when Bates walks in and greets me like long lost family."
"Did he ever do that before?"
"First and last time he appeared on an undercover of mine. Told me my cousin Andrea was unhappy but he thought I should let her cool off for a while. I asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner and just then, Boothe walks in. Bates says we should go out for dinner, I needed a change of scenery so I left just as Boothe was being seated."
"How often did you leave the bar, Mr. Deeks?"
"Rarely at night. Some of the Sundays in the summer were really dead so I left early but with all the security camera feeds in my apartment, I could watch what was going on. Dinner that night was at Anna's with LAPD watching Boothe at Boogie's. Ruben was at dinner, so was Vern Johnson from Missing Persons. Moran was working on a television show that was shooting that Sunday night. He never showed. He was not someone who didn't show up for work so one of the PA's was detailed to his home. Not there. Didn't answer calls. The executive producer did some cop shows over the years and had friends in the Department including Roger Bates. The producer is also former military so he was tight with Moran on the set. Called in a favor and had Moran listed as a missing person."
"Where was Ms. Miller during this meeting?"
"She was sent all the info, including the missing persons report on Moran. She asked Bates if this was my first undercover assignment and if the Department knew I was a prude at best and a bigoted homophobe at worse."
Kensi gasped. "Is she kidding?"
"No. She declined attending the meeting. She said that Boothe was grown man whose interest in men or women was none of our business." Deeks shrugged. "If he wasn't the focus of an FBI investigation from the Violent Crime Unit, if he wasn't following me around or if he wasn't claiming he was following me around because he didn't know how to deal with people, maybe. If Lt. Moran wasn't so wasted when I saw him and missing after that, maybe. All of this together was a problem."
"What did you do?"
"All the beach substations were told to look for Moran. He was a surfer. They parked a patrol vehicle outside his West Hollywood apartment. Boothe was more of a problem. The Department couldn't tail him. Rich guy, no record..."
"Even with all the stolen goods in his pool house?"
"The FBI wanted that as a fallback position to whatever they were doing. I spent the next few days at the bar. Boothe showed up for lunch one day with a woman."
"Was that a first?" Eric asked.
"First mealtime companion, male or female, ever," Deeks told them. He threw a photo up of a slim, blonde woman. "Elizabeth Kelly was, at the time, the assistant CFO at Boothe Financial. She was about his age, Stanford grad at 19, Wharton MBA/JD three years later. I never spoke with her except at the bar but she told investigators that she was asked to drop by Boothe's place out of the blue to discuss some charitable ideas he had. She was surprised when the meeting was over and he invited her to such a kitschy little place like Boogie's."
"What happened to Miss Kelly?"
"She's the CEO of Boothe Financial. All the business columnists at the Times and financial magazines said she was the real deal and was the right person to run the company while Boothe was in jail. Speaking of which," Deeks took a deep breath, "on Friday, October 5th, a headless body was found by an early morning walker washed up on the rocks in Portuguese Bend. Big tattoo across the torso..."
"Moran," Kensi and Eric said in unison.
"Yes." Deeks put crime scene photos up. "I get a call on the bar's phone from Bates just as the lunch crowd started in telling me to stay put, Ruben would be dropping by for a briefing. Lunch crowd comes, lunch crowd goes and around two-thirty, in walks Boothe for lunch. Carrie takes his order and I stop by for a chat to discuss Elizabeth Kelly, some charity ideas he has and how he wants Boogie's to cater an event on the beach. We're having a nice talk when Ruben comes in with about a half dozen uniforms."
Kensi's phone rang. "Hello." She listened for a few seconds before saying "okay" and handing the phone to Deeks. "Bates" she mouthed to him.
"I'm here," Deeks said into the phone.
"Are you not answering my calls on purpose or does the Department have to issue you a new cellphone?" Bates demanded.
"I'm going to put you on speaker," Deeks told him. "You're on with Kensi Blye, Hetty Lange and NCIS Technical Analyst Eric Beale."
"I finally may have some good news. Andrea Miller was called back to Washington rather suddenly after this morning's meeting," Bates told them. As everyone in Ops eyes turned to Hetty, Bates said, "I don't know who you called Ms. Lange, but when they told Miller to return to Quantico, she was booking her flight at the elevator door."
"I just explained to a friend that we needed a few days to prepare to work with Miss Miller and they were happy to call for a review of her handling of the case in front of an FBI assembly tomorrow. It is at 8AM Eastern time since she's shown her appreciation for an early morning meeting," Hetty said with a smile.
"Well, I'd like a meeting with you, Deeks. I'm guessing Agent Blye and Ms. Lange will want to be there."
"Do you remember where we met during the Clarence Fisk investigation?" Kensi asked.
"The place in the marina, sure. I need some coffee and Ramos needs to calm down."
"Still muttering in Spanish?" Deeks joked.
"Spanish, yes. Muttering, no," Bates joked right back. Andrea Miller's absence seemed to improve everyone's mood.
"Why don't you get some breakfast and we'll meet in an hour. Lieutenant, if you could, would you and Sgt. Ramos to turn off your phones before leaving your office," Hetty asked.
"And I'll watch for a tail. See you there." Bates disconnected.
Deeks handed her phone back to Kensi. "I'm sorry about all of this."
"Mr. Deeks, no apologies needed. Why don't you continue with the debrief and we'll make plans accordingly."
"OK, it gets a little sketchy for me at this point," Deeks told them as he kept an eye on Kensi. "When the uniforms yelled freeze and moved to our table, Boothe picked up his knife and ran it through my neck."
-30-