“People change.”
“That they do,” said Irwin. “That they definitely do. But killing your own mother? Whew, I hope not.”
“Thanks for the information, Irwin.”
“Sure.”
“If I was looking for a place that handles DD adults nowadays, where would I go? Residential but with an open-door policy.”
“That,” said Irwin, “would depend on how broad a geographic area you want to tap.”
The disheveled woman had been seen on foot. I gave him Martha’s address. “Say a two-mile radius from there.”
“I have no idea where that is—hold on, I’ll use Google Maps…okay, here we go. You’re talking West L.A…. pretty close to the Westside police station. Is that the crime scene?”
“It is.”
“That could be annoying to your cop pal, no? His home turf getting violated.”
“He’s got other things on his mind.”
“Oh sure, don’t mean to be flippant…okay, two miles…let me check my book…looks like four places would fit the bill. Want the addresses now or should I email them to you?”
“I’m listening.”
“Old school,” said Irwin. “Speaking of which, how’s your car?”
“Third engine.”
“No planned obsolescence for you. Okay, ready?”
Chapter
20
I used my title and got quick cooperation from the Vanguard Developmental Center in Culver City. But no resident named Matthias, Lynne or otherwise, was listed and the place turned out to specialize in patients with senile dementia.
My second call went to Safe Place: A Residential Treatment Facility in West L.A. A little under a mile south of Martha Matthias’s home.
When I told the receptionist who I was looking for, he went silent.
Then: “Hold on, I’ll transfer you to my boss.”
Three clicks later a woman said, “This is Pam Buttons. I’m at home but they told me a doctor was calling. We’ve been looking for Lynne. Is she hospitalized?”
“Her whereabouts are unknown.”
Silence.
“Who did you say you were?”
I began to explain.
“Police psychologist?” she said. “Well that beats all. I reported Lynne missing to the police the day after she didn’t come home. And that was a week ago.She told us she was going to her mom but when she did, she always came back the following morning. I phoned her mom and no one answered. So I tried to file a missing persons with the cops and they told me adults are free to come and go but apply onlineand they’d look into it. I heard nothing for two days so I called again, got voicemail, and no one has gotten back to me. I tried to explain this adult has the cognitive functioning of a twelve-year-old but basically I got brushed off. What’s going on now?”
“Who’d you speak to at the police?”
“Hold on, I wrote it down, someone named…Pocan.” She spelled it. “He wasnothelpful. Now why’s a psychologist calling me out of the blue?”
