Decker nodded. “Two women still grieving over their loss. Each one working up the other.”

“Tandy claims she hasn’t seen Marie in a couple of years.”

“We can start by checking out Tandy’s phone calls,” Decker said. “See if there has been contact between her and Bellson.”

“Should I keep a tail on her?”

“Someone should. She hasn’t bolted, but as we get closer, she may suspect someone’s sniffing her butt. Also, let’s check to see if she was where she said she was last night.”

“First thing tomorrow, I’ll call up Tujunga Memorial.” Marge stared at her tepid coffee. A white skin had formed on top. She swirled the cup and watched it make designs. “You said you had a couple of ways to play this out. What’s your other idea?”

“Lots of variation on this theme, but here goes. The black woman saw someone taking the baby. She interfered and was killed. Marie walked in on the action, and the third party—the one who killed the black woman—forced Marie at gunpoint to take the baby and help dispose of the body. For Marie to kidnap a baby and murder and dispose of a body seems like a lot of work for one person.”

“So in this scenario, you’re saying Marie was just as much a victim as the body we found.”

Decker stood up and began fishing around in his pants pockets.

“What is it?”

“I took…” Decker found the bag he was looking for. He remembered changing his clothes and was glad he was smart enough to check his pockets before putting the suit in the cleaner’s pile. “I took some leaf samples.” He unbagged them, then sniffed them, backing away from the odor. He handed it to Marge. “What does your nose say?”

Marge smelled the foliage. “Gasoline.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t smell anything out there but smoke. But here…know what this means?”

“Car didn’t accidently fall over the cliff.”

“Yep. It was doused before it was pushed over but wasn’t lit. Otherwise, I would have found scorched leaves.”

“Also, it’s pretty hard to push over a car once it’s on fire.”

Decker broke into laughter. “I knew there was a reason I kept you as my partner.” He hit his head. “Anyone home? Anyway, someone was counting on impact to explode the car and get the fire started.”

“Someone wasn’t too bright. Not all cars explode.” Marge paused. “Maybe the someone realized the car wasn’t going to explode and threw the match at the car at the bottom of the ravine.”

“Possibly.”

“Pete, if this person killed the black woman, why wouldn’t this person also kill Marie?”

“Who said this person hasn’t killed Marie?”

24