BULLETS (25 page)

“And I know that he did. Ted was shot three times with a pistol. Twice in the chest, once in the forehead. The weapon was left at the scene. It had fingerprints on it. This man’s fingerprints. Now step aside, Camilla. These men have a job to do.”

“Two in the chest, one in the head,” Slick said. “Classic double tap, pretty professional. But then you wonder what kind of professional shoots a man so expertly and then leaves the weapon behind, with his fingerprints on it. Who does that?”

“I don’t know, sport, lots of smart people do stupid things all the time. You have the right to remain silent, I suggest you take advantage of it.”

“What time?” Camilla glanced at Slick, who shook his head.

“Don’t, Camilla. Melvin will iron it out,” Slick said. “Don’t say anything else.”

“What time what?” Javier asked. “What are you talking about?”

“What time was Ted murdered?”

“There’s no coroner’s report yet, they only just found the body—”

“What’s the earliest it could have been?”

“Camilla—”

“Just tell me, Javier!”

Javier glanced at Brower, nodded.

“Ted was at a dinner meeting until ten or so then he went home,” Brower said.

“Then he couldn’t have done it,” Camilla said.

“Camilla, don’t—” Slick said.

“He was at my place the entire time. I was home before ten, and he was still there. You didn’t leave while I was gone, did you?” she asked him. Slick shook his head.

“He didn’t leave,” she continued. “You can check the security cameras at my condo. There’s no way to get in and out of there without being caught on camera. It’s not possible, check the cameras. And I was with him after I left you and George. There’s no way Jon could have murdered Ted, because he was with me the whole night. He didn’t do it, Javier.”

Javier took that as well as could be expected, conscious of the eyes of the witnesses watching, but it cut him deep. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“They still have to take him in. His prints were on the murder weapon. Let the system do what it does. They’ll take him in, process him, get him his lawyer and you can give your official statement. If the cameras back your statement, then he’ll be cleared. Until then, he’s still a murder suspect. You’ve done this before, you know the song.”

Javier turned to Brower. “This man had better be in the exact same condition that he is now the next time I see him, or you won’t be, is that clear?”

Brower nodded. Javier spun around and walked out without looking at Camilla.

I
t was actually
all over before Slick’s lawyer Melvin even got there. Brower and Collins took him back to the station, booked and printed him and stuck him in a cell without a word or question. He cooled his heels in there for a few hours and then they took him out again, this time without handcuffs. They returned his personal items, stuck him in the back of a squad car and drove him downtown.

They didn’t speak and neither did he. He just waited them out. At least he wasn’t handcuffed. But he had time to think while he was in there. Something Doris Carlson had said had tickled his imagination, but he couldn’t quite put the pieces together in his head.

The squad car pulled into a parking space at an office building and the deputies climbed out, their faces coldly professional. They opened the back to let him out of the car. Slick stood and stretched the kinks out.

“So you gave me my shoes and my belt, does this mean I am I free to go, or what?”

Brower shook his head, not saying a word, and gestured to the entrance. Navajo Joe stepped out of the front, nodding gravely to Slick.

“Joe,” Slick said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Slick. I’ll take you on up.”

Slick turned to the deputies. “Well, it’s been real. Don’t buy any wooden nickels.”

Brower and Collins, glaring hatred at both men, climbed back into their squad car without a word and drove off, squealing tires the whole way.

“I don’t think they got that joke,” Slick said.

“I don’t think I got it.”

“Now that you mention it, I don’t quite get it, either. I just remember it from a Bugs Bunny cartoon and for some reason it always made me laugh. Still does.”

Slick followed Navajo Joe into the building. They stepped inside an elevator.

“Your lawyer on his way?”

“Am I going to need him?”

“From what I hear, no. But you got pretty damn lucky last night. And I’m not talking about being invited into Camilla’s inner sanctum, though that is ultimately what saved your ass.”

“There’s a saying amongst card players. It’s good to be good, but it’s even better to be lucky.”

“Well, you got more than your fair share last night. If not for Camilla, you’d be a dead man walking, easy. You had motive, weapon and opportunity. They could have just as easily shot you in the diner, too, if you didn’t have an alibi for last night. They checked the cameras in her building, they got you going in and not coming out until this morning. That, plus Camilla’s testimony that she was with you at the exact right time, pretty much gets you off. And things look bad, real bad for the sheriff’s department right now.”

“Good, because the entire department stinks of corruption and you know it. Who’s taking Ted’s place?”

“Ordinarily it’d be Brower, but that’s sort of up in the air now, given that he hit you on the head and beat you while you were in custody and perjured himself in his report. And, well, it looks like the whole department is rotten to the core. That’s probably what’s going to be discussed with you at this here meeting.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. Navajo Joe leaned close.

“The gun, I figure you took off them rednecks outside that roadhouse, stuck it in your motel room and somebody broke in and stole it.”

“I can’t honestly answer that without incriminating myself, but that would be a good operating theory, if I were in your shoes. I’ve got a better one prepared, though. You set troopers up to watch Camilla, yeah?”

“Yeah, they got on her place at about nine yesterday morning.”

“They weren’t there this morning.”

“Our orders were to go after we saw her home safe from the office, which we did, so they went off when she got home a little after nine. Verified it all. They were supposed to pick her up again this morning at eight.”

“And we left before that.”

“You know that Javier and Camilla—”

“Used to go out some time ago, yeah, she told me that.”

“Yeah, they were an item and I’d say he’s none too happy with you. Though the thing that pisses him off the most, you spending the night with her, just gave him a huge career boost gift-wrapped with a pretty bow on top. But don’t expect bro hugs and happy birthday cards from the man.”

“I’m not too happy with him or most people in this town, so we can call it even.”

Navajo Joe nodded and a secretary welcomed and escorted them into a large corner office. Camilla and Javier waited for them inside, along with an older, silver-haired man who Slick recognized from the pictures in Camilla’s condo.

“Mr. Elder”—the man held out his hand—“George Hanson, District Attorney.”

Slick shook hands without a word. George turned to the big trooper. “Thank you, Joe, for helping us out with this situation, I really appreciate it. I’ll be in touch later on to coordinate things, as we discussed.”

Navajo Joe nodded. “Have a good rest of the day, folks.” He left the office. The secretary closed the doors so they had privacy.

“Mr. Elder, first let me begin by saying that I’ve spoken many times to your lawyer, Mr. Hayes, and have been upfront with him that we are not charging you with the murder of Ted Rawlings or for any crime. You are not being charged, you are not obligated to speak with me or be here, but I’d appreciate it if you could give me a few moments of your time. Nothing said here will go beyond this room or be used against you at any time. I’ve prepared an affidavit to that effect, and you can also speak to Mr. Hayes if you wish, he’s waiting by the phone for your call, if need be.”

Slick glanced at Camilla and Javier. The latter sat stone-faced, not moving. Camilla looked exhausted. He nodded.

“No need, please proceed.”

“Thank you,” George began. “First things first. Here is the bail money that your friend put up for you, I took the liberty of getting that back. Sign here, please.”

George gestured to a satchel, unzipped and filled with cash. Slick signed and zipped it back up without a second look. George nodded.

“Second, do you have an explanation for how your fingerprints ended up on the murder weapon? You don’t need one, but we’ve been unable to answer. It’s clear that you didn’t commit the murder, but—”

“The gun was registered to Jason Brogans,” Javier broke in. “Who is not a suspect, either. He’s in the hospital with a broken wrist and jaw. Apparently, he and a few of his buddies got into a fight with a large black man in the parking lot of a bar somewhere outside county lines. He’s not talking, he can’t with his jaw wired shut, but in writing he confirmed that the weapon in question was stolen from him. We showed him and his buddies your picture and they all swear that whoever it was they fought with it wasn’t you, but some OTHER six foot four black man who knows how to break bones.”

“Imagine that,” Slick said.

“Yeah, imagine that. We asked him when his pistol was stolen and he doesn’t remember,” Javier said. “He don’t know a whole lot, nobody’s ever gonna give him a genius grant, but maybe you can explain to us how your prints got on the stolen pistol that ended up killing Ted Rawlings.”

“No charges will be brought, you understand. You don’t have to answer these questions, of course—” George began.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve spent a little time in a few bars since visiting Arizona, and on occasion some of the locals want to impress me by showing me their firearms. I guess it’s how they get off or something, I don’t know. They bring it out, ask me to hold it and what do I think of it, so on and so forth. I wouldn’t swear to it under oath, but it’s entirely possible that, while I was in a bar, some white guy handed me his gun and asked me what I thought, I held it up, said I thought it was fine piece of hardware and handed it right back. And left it at that. I don’t know why white guys do that, but—”

“You expect us to believe that?” Javier said.

“You can believe or not believe, I don’t care. I didn’t kill Sheriff Ted, why would I? He was on his way out of office anyway, right? I had no motive.”

“Of course you had a motive, he beat the hell out of you,” Javier said.

“And he was going to jail. You know I didn’t do it, what’s your beef?”

Javier stared at Slick, steaming. Both knew what the real beef was, though it couldn’t be spoken aloud.

“It is plausible, Agent Rivera,” George said. No one spoke for a moment. George walked around his desk and sat down. “Mr. Elder, we have a rather complex problem to solve in our county here. Obviously there are people who need to be questioned and removed from the positions they currently hold in law enforcement, and a rigorous house cleaning is in order. Ted was a friend I grew up with, I’ll be honest with you, and I’m shocked at his death. But I didn’t agree with the direction Ted had gone as of late, and it seems clear to me that he’s also guilty of crimes that perhaps got him killed. Whether it was retribution for the killing of an innocent undocumented laborer or for something else, we don’t yet know. But we will find out.”

George cleared his throat. “Agent Rivera has put me in touch with a federal prosecutor and, in conjunction with the State AG’s office, we will work together to get to the bottom of everything. Heads will roll as a result. Of that you have my promise and the promise of Agent Rivera here. You have been mistreated and discriminated against ever since you set foot in town and I offer my deepest, sincerest apologies for that and my word that those responsible for that treatment will be held accountable to the fullest extent of the law. You have my word as an officer of the court and as a family man who once marched and campaigned for civil rights. My word, sir.”

It was a fine speech, Slick thought. A pretty classic political stump speech. But Slick expected there to be a ‘but’ somewhere in there and he wasn’t wrong.

“But I need your help, Mr. Elder. I’ve no right to ask you for help, you are a free man who can choose to do what you please. I’ll say that up front. But we could really use your help here.”

Slick glanced at Camilla but her face was impassive and for the first time he couldn’t read her. He looked back to George.

“What is it you need from me?”

“Well, to put it frankly, we need you to take a leave of absence from the area for a period of time. I realize that I don’t have the right to request that of you, but I ask it nonetheless. Obviously someone tried to implicate you in capital murder, unsuccessfully thank God, and in light of the digital video you gave to Camilla, it doesn’t take a great leap of imagination to note that there is a great deal of ill will toward you from the law enforcement community. Until we get the sheriff’s department straightened out, there will be a period of flux and I would not be able to guarantee your safety if you stay. There are going to be wholesale changes made and some will blame you exclusively for this. They are wrong to do so, of course, but that will matter little in this time of turmoil. For your sake, and, in all honesty, for the sake of our community, I humbly request that you give us time to fix what’s broken and to heal from the damage that has been done. I’ve no right to ask that of you, but I ask you regardless.”

“What about Roger Carlson?” Slick asked.

“We will, of course, re-open the case on Roger’s murder, that investigation has already begun, I’ve got some of my best prosecutors and their staff on it. They will work night and day until we have a resolution. Again, I give you my word on that. Roger was also a friend, too. I want to bring whoever killed him to justice.”

Slick glanced at Camilla. Her face gave away nothing.

“You will be welcomed back once everything is resolved, of course,” George said. “I hope to get to know you better, even, on a personal level. Camilla … uh … clearly thinks highly of you.”