you were loading flowers?”
“When I saw the guy, I was sitting there behind the wheel. Nothing to do, you know? My sisters hadda make the sprays. So I was just sitting there in case the cops come and I hadda move.”
Marzik said, “He was in the red zone.”
Starkey nodded. Standing there listening, she had noticed that very few cars turned off Sunset onto the little side street. Lester would have an easy, unobstructed view of the pay phone hanging on the laundry across the street. She watched an older couple emerge from the laundry with a pink box and made a note to herself to mention it to Marzik.
“Okay, Lester, would you describe him for me? I know you described him for Detective Marzik, but now for me.”
Starkey and Marzik locked eyes. They were getting down to it now. Whether the caller was Anglo or Latino.
Lester launched into his description, describing an Anglo man of medium height and build, wearing a faded blue baseballcap, sunglasses (probably Wayfarers), dark blue trousers, and a lighter blue work shirt. Lester’s impression was that the man was wearing some kind of a uniform, such as a gas station attendant or bus driver. Starkey took notes, not reacting to Lester’s statement that the caller was an Anglo. Lester had not heard the man’s voice. He thought the guy had to be in his forties, but admitted to being a lousy judge of age. As Lester spoke, Starkey felt the pager at her hip vibrate, and checked the number. Hooker.
When Lester finished, Starkey folded her pad on a finger.
“If you saw this guy again, you think you’d recognize him?”
Lester shrugged.
“I don’t think so. Maybe. I didn’t really look at him, you know? Just for a couple seconds.”
“Did you see which way the man came from when he went to the phone?”
“I didn’t notice.”
“How about when he left? You see where he went?”
“I wasn’t paying attention, you know? He was just some guy.”
“He get out of or into a car?”
Lester shrugged.
Starkey put away the pad.
“Okay, Lester, I’ve got just one problem with this. We have reason to believe that the person making the call was Latino. You sure this guy was Anglo?”
“I’m pretty sure. His hair was light, you know? Not gray, but light.”
Starkey and Marzik traded another look, neither as enthusiastic as they had been yesterday. “Pretty sure” was an equivocation.
“Light brown?”
“Yeah. A light brown. Kinda sandy.”
Marzik frowned. “You could tell that with the cap?”
Lester touched his own ears.
“The part I could see down here, you know?”
That made sense to Starkey. She brought out the pad again and made another note. As she wrote, she had another thought.
“Okay. One more thing. Do you recall any identifying characteristics? A scar, maybe? A tattoo on his arm?”
“He was wearing long sleeves.”
“He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt?”
“Yeah. That’s why I couldn’t see his arms. I remember it was greasy and old, like he’d been working on a car or something.”
Starkey glanced at Marzik, and found her staring. Marzik was clearly unhappy with Lester’s uncertainty. When Starkey glanced back at Lester, he was watching Marzik.
“One last thing. You were out here, about, what? Fifteen minutes?”
“You keep sayin’ that, one last thing. My old man’s gonna kick my ass. I gotta go make these deliveries.”
“I mean it this time, Lester. Just this last question. Anyone else make a call from that phone while you were out here?”
Starkey already knew that no other calls had been made from that phone. She wanted to see if he would lie about it to impress Marzik or to make himself more important.
“I didn’t see anyone else. No.”
Starkey put away her pad.
“Okay, Lester, thanks. I want you to come in with Detective Marzik and work with a sketch artist, see if we can’t build a picture of this guy, okay?”
“That sounds pretty cool to me. My dad ain’t gonna like it, though. He gonna raise
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