Death by Parking

Book Four: Stack Parking

Chapter 11 - It Just Gets Better and Better

When I got home, the house was filled with kidnappers in masks. They told me that Sarah's death was a mistake, and the idiots that did it would be "taken care of." They also told me that the kidnapping was still on, but with a different victim, Melissa's twin sister, Mandy.

This had become a soap opera, and I was between the bar and the tub.

I met the next day with Smythe-Jones and put the squeeze on him. He told me the "rest of the story":

"When I sent 'Karen' - that's Betty Beeson's real name - out here to LA to oversee the family business, I didn't realize what a problem we had. That grade B actress Maria LaFlonza with her Howard Hughes connections, the problems with the parking scams, all the hands sticking out looking for payoffs in City Hall - it was probably too much for a young girl to handle.

"But Karen did a pretty good job, kept under the local radar, and over the next 20 years, built us a very good business here. Then LaFlonza got out of prison and started sticking her nose in where it wasn't wanted. She knew where a lot of bodies were buried, and figured out who Karen was.

"This put Karen in a very difficult position," Smythe-Jones said. "She needed to take some personnel action, but the pressure was too great for her.

"She cracked, and you were there, Manning, when it all came down. Karen was dead, LaFlonza and her group were back in prison, and we had no one running the LA operation.

"I had my own problems, thanks to the FBI, and just let California slip away," Smythe-Jones said. "The void was filled by a man who has ties to the old country. He ran a local parking operating company."

I held up my hand: "Southern California Valet and Park."

Smythe-Jones smiled. "You really are good, Manning. He has ties to my operation through the old country. He also knew Sarah. He was jealous of her husband. I think you can see where this is going."

I had spoken to SCVP's owner, Antonio Petrochelli, when I was trying to figure out how they were able to block in my car at the Hollywood Bowl. His company ran the parking there. It looked like he was behind this all along.

Paulo and I walked out of the conference room, past the FBI and LAPD without saying a word, and drove to Petrochelli's office in Culver City. The front door, normally requiring a buzzer to get in, was open. His good-looking blonde assistant was not at her desk. Petrochelli was, however, at his.

I called my best friend, Capt. Bill Vose, who was running the case for the LAPD.

"My God, Manning, not another body."

To be continued ...