Sanford Richter denied everything and refused to resign from office. He expressed outrage, disdain, and claimed Locke’s allegations were vengeful fabrications. His fellow council members unanimously voted to suspend Richter from all council duties pending the ongoing criminal investigation. He was barred from his offices, not allowed to attend council meetings, and his salary was terminated. Richter vowed to fight. He vowed to clear his name and continue serving the fine people of Los Angeles. He said, “The truth is on my side.”
66
Sanford Richter
Sanford and his wife, Lily, were reading by the pool at their home in Hancock Park. The home was built in 1918 on almost three-quarters of an acre for one of the most successful Attorneys in Los Angeles at the time. The forty-foot pool was a glittering aquamarine rectangle. The large flat lawn glowed green in the afternoon sun. Sanford and Lily sat side by side with their books on white chaise longues.
Lily said, “I never did like that man. There was always something funny about him, remember I said?”
“You did. I should’ve listened.”
She was talking about Grady Locke.
“How long have you known?”
Sanford sighed and closed his book on a finger. She wasn’t going to let him read.
“Three years.”
“I can’t believe you carried the man for three years. What were you thinking?”
He sighed again and faced her.
“I wanted to help. This business with the drugs, I don’t know, it’s sad. He agreed to get treatment. He begged me.”
“You’ve always been too soft.”
“Let’s be honest. He was great at his job. I didn’t want to lose him.”
“Too soft. I would’ve fired him the instant I found out.”
“In my defense, the erratic behavior started later. I didn’t realize how often he used drugs until his behavior changed, the crazy hours, the hyperactivity, the frantic talking, yapyapyapyap. The parties with whores.”
“I don’t want to hear it. Enough. This will all come out and you’ll be fine.”
Sanford grunted.
“You think?”
“Yes! This is absurd. And the media? The trash of the earth.”
Sanford checked the time.
“The lawyers are coming at one.”
The best criminal defense Attorneys in California had taken his case. Chase Wylie and Debra Mitland. Killers.
“I thought it’d be nice to have a little sandwich platter. Some bagels. Some roast beef and turkey. Maybe some pickles and whatnot.”
Lily said, “That would be nice.”
“Would you handle it, please.”
She frowned at her watch.
“It’s eleven forty-five.”
“I only now thought of it. With all this on my mind.”
“I could call the place over here on Larchmont. Have them put together a tray. They deliver.”
“We’ll be waiting ’til four and the order won’t be right.”
“I could run and pick it up, I suppose.”
“It would be such a help if you did.”
She swung her feet off the longue and stood.
“I’d better get cracking. And you’d better get dressed. Unless they’re coming for a swim.”
Sanford laughed.
“No swimming today. What’s the old saying? Don’t swim with sharks.”
Lily laughed as she hurried inside to order.
Sanford dog-eared the page to mark his place, wiggled out of his robe, and dove into his pool. He swam to the far end, climbed out, and went inside to dress. He was stepping out of the shower when Lily popped in.
“I’m leaving. I’ll be back before one.”
“I’ll be here.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“I dunno. Slacks, sport coat, no tie. Casual.”
“Plaid shirt, no jacket.”
“No jacket?”
“You’re relaxed. Confident men are relaxed men. Plaid, open collar, no tie.”
“Plaid is relaxed.”
“Yes, sir.”
She smiled brightly and left. A helluva woman.
Sanford went with the plaid. Light gray slacks, purple plaid shirt with the collar open and sleeves rolled. No socks. Sanford admired himself in his dressing room mirror. Lily was right. He was the very picture of relaxed confidence.
He found a white extension cord in one of Lily’s dressing table drawers. He wrapped it tightly around his neck, tied it to the bedroom doorknob, and let the white cord take his weight. Lily found his body twenty-eight minutes later, four minutes before his lawyers rang the bell. Lily Richter blamed the media for his death.