Devil's Waltz by Jonathan Kellerman Page A

getting hold of the paperwork. You might even be able to do it yourself — check hospital records. If you can be discreet.”
    “Don’t know if I can. The hospital’s a different place now.”
    “In what way?”
    “Lots more security — kind of heavy-handed.”
    “Well,” he said, “you can’t fault that. That part of town’s gotten real nasty.”
    He got up, went to the fridge, found an orange and began peeling it over the sink. Frowning.
    I said, “What is it?”
    “I’m trying to frame some strategy on this. Seems to me the only way to solve something like this would be to catch the bad guy in the act. The kid gets sick at home?”
    I nodded.
    “So the only way to do it would be to surveil their house electronically. Hidden audio and video. Trying to record someone actually poisoning the baby.”
    “The Colonel’s games,” I said.
    That made him frown.
    “Yeah, exactly the kind of stuff that prick would delight in… He moved, you know.”
    “Where?”
    “Washington, D.C. Where else? New enterprise for him. Corporation with one of those titles that tells you nothing about what it does. Ten to one he’s living off the government. I got a note and a business card in the mail a while back. Congrats for entering the informational age and some free software to do my taxes.”
    “He knew what you were doing?”
    “Evidently. Anyway, back to your baby-poisoner. Bugging her house. Unless you got a court order, anything you came up with would be inadmissible. But a court order means strong evidence, and all you’ve got are suspicions. Not to mention the fact that Grandpa’s a pooh-bah, and you’ve got to tread extra carefully.”
    He finished peeling the orange, put it down, washed his hands, and began pulling apart the sections. “This one may be a heartbreaker — please don’t tell me how cute the kid is.”
    “The kid’s adorable.”
    “Thank you very much.”
    I said, “There were a couple of cases in England, reported in one of the pediatrics journals. They videotaped mothers smothering babies, and all
they
had were suspicions.”
    “They taped at home?”
    “In the hospital.”
    “Big difference. And for all I know, the law’s different in England…. Let me think on it, Alex. See if there’s anything creative we
can
do. In the meantime I’ll start playing with local records, NCIC, on the off chance that any of them has been naughty before, and we can build up
something
to get a warrant. Old Charlie’s taught me well — you should see me ride those data bases.”
    “Don’t put
yourself
in jeopardy,” I said.
    “Don’t worry. The preliminary searches are no more than what an officer does every time he pulls someone over for a traffic stop. If and when I dig deeper, I’ll be careful. Have the parents lived anyplace other than L.A.?”
    “I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t know much about them, better start learning.”
    “Yeah, you dig your trench; I’ll dig mine.” He hunched over the counter, thinking out loud: “They’re upper-crusties, which could mean private schools. Which is tough.”
    “The mother might be a public school girl. She doesn’t come across as someone who was born to money.”
    “Social climber?”
    “No, just simple. He’s a college teacher. She might have been one of his students.”
    “Okay,” he said, opening his note pad. “What else? Maybe military service for him, maybe officer’s training — another tough nut to crack. Charlie
has
managed to hack into some of the military files, but nothing fancy, just V.A. benefits, cross-referencing, that kind of stuff.”
    “What do you guys do, play around with confidential data banks?”
    “More like he plays, I watch. Where does the father teach?”
    “West Valley Community College. Sociology.”
    “What about mom? Any job?”
    “No, she’s a full-time mom.”
    “Takes her job seriously, huh. Okay, give me a name to work with.”
    “Jones.”
    He looked at me.
    I nodded.
    His