A Long December (20 page)

“And you might want to get out of here,” I said. “If somebody is after Linda, you don’t want to be mistaken for her.”

We all left together, locking the apartment and replacing the key behind the fire extinguisher.

   When we both got to the parking lot of Battenberg PD, Hester shut her car down and got into my car and we had a little chat.

Firstly, for somebody to kill two people over a dope deal, it had to be some pretty serious dope. Serious as to dollar value, not necessarily quality. Given either methamphetamine or ecstasy, we were talking a pretty large quantity.

“No way that much could be sold locally,” I said. “Just not enough of a market.”

“Could be a local thing, though,” said Hester. “I mean, a message to lots of small dealers. Screwing with the franchise sort of thing.”

“Yeah. We talked about that before.”

“Yes.”

It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Or, major amounts in transit,” she said.

“Transit…. Okay. If this is a major waypoint on the Mexican Pipeline, for example, they could have quite a bit of stuff. For that to happen—”

“—it would have to come in in quantity, for transshipment by another means,” finished Hester.

“So we’re both thinking the packing plant?”

“In via auto, out via meat truck,” she said.

“Jose Gonzales humped meat into the trucks. What better way to ship crystal or X.” That was certainly true. FDA rules mandated that a truck loaded with “swinging meat”—such as quarters or halves of beef—be sealed when it left the packing plant, and the seal not broken until the destination was reached. Any cop who wanted to search that truck, and consequently broke the seal, could be held personally responsible for the entire shipment. Several hundred thousand dollars worth of meat, all rejected at its destination because of a broken seal, and the cop would have to pay. Or, if he was lucky, his department would. Either way, it was just too expensive to risk unless you were absolutely certain the dope was there. Ergo, it was seldom done.

“Those trucks go all over the country?” asked Hester.

“I don’t think so. I think they go to New York and Chicago, to major kosher delis there.”

“All of it?”

“Ah…no. No, only the front half of the animal is kosher. The rest could go anywhere, I suppose.”

“You think the management is involved?” asked Hester.

“I’d bet my life they were not,” I said. “Not those guys. They’re fanatics about cleanliness and reputation. No way.”

“They’d cooperate with us, then?”

“I can’t say for sure. They’d have to be convinced it was happening,” I said.

“Ah.”

We sat there in the car for a few moments, the only sound being the rush of air from the defroster.

Finally, I said, “I assume we’re in agreement that we have two murders?”

“I think it would be safest to proceed that way.”

“Best bet for a motive is dope?”

“So far.”

I chuckled. “Okay, what’s bothering you?”

“They’d have killed both of them the same time, same way,” she said. “Poisoning just doesn’t do it. It’s not their style.” She scooted around in the seat so she could come closer to facing me. “I’ve only had one toxic death in a dope murder, and that was years ago. They caught some dude ripping them, and they forced him to eat coke.”

“Yeah?”

“Every other time, it was shooting, stabbing, or beating to death. Pain, humiliation, and in-your-face stuff. Something all the other little dirt-bags can identify with.” She shook her head slowly. “Poisoning is too much like a Goddamned health issue, and too sneaky. Some petty-assed dope dealer is just too stupid to get a message from poisoning. Especially something like this ricin substance. No. No, it just doesn’t fit.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?
Okay?
All this great analysis and all I get is ‘okay’?”

“You’re eloquent. What can I say?” She was, of course, absolutely right.

“Well, anyway, I was going to talk with Ben about his. Maybe Hector instead?”

“Sounds like a winner,” she said.

“But we
do
agree that they’re related, right? The cases.”

“Certainly. We just don’t know how, and there’s no physical or testimonial evidence indicating they are.” She smiled. “Other than that little obstacle, sure, I think they’re related.”

“So, we just need the key, right? I mean, we’ve got lots of bits and pieces. I get the impression we’re only missing one little bit of information, one little piece of evidence…”

Hester chuckled. “Well, you just keep thinking that, Houseman.”

“I’m starting to hate this case. But I think we got it if we just get that one piece we’re missing.”

“It’ll have to do,” she said. “If it keeps you at it, that’s what we need.”

“Good enough for government work,” I said, shutting off the car and opening my door. “Let’s see if we can find Hector.”

THERE WAS A CLATTERING
, roaring sound outside that grew, then diminished.

“What’s that?” Sally was peering through the cracks, straining to see.

“Sounds like a helicopter,” I said. “Could be a police chopper from Cedar Rapids.”

We heard it coming again. I hustled over to the door on the east side and cautiously peered out through the large, vertical crack. I just caught a glimpse of the helicopter as it went over, going from north to south. It was painted in the familiar red, white, and blue scheme I’d seen on TV so many times.

“It’s the Goddamned KNUG ‘Eye in the Sky’ chopper. The news media.”

If that thing flying over didn’t stir the pot, nothing would.

My cell phone rang. It was the leader of the TAC team, who sounded assured, but not overconfident. That was good.

“We’re getting in touch with that chopper, gonna get him out of here, but we want to check out his footage first. He’s live, okay? He’s givin’ us a great view of the farm. He don’t know it, but he is. As long as we’re waitin’ here,” he said, “let’s get back to who you got cornered up there.” He was maintaining contact, probably to make sure we didn’t do anything stupid before he could gain control of the situation. That was okay with me.

“I’m not sure who’s got who cornered here,” I answered. “We’re more like a cork in a bottle, I think. You haven’t been briefed by any feds, then?”

“I haven’t talked to any here,” he said. I heard him holler, away from the phone, “Anybody know of any feds around here? Check, will ya?” Then, more directly into the phone, and intended for me: “No. No brief by any feds, either.”

Where to start and what to say. “Look,” I said, “this is a federal sort of thing, and we have one FBI agent up here with us. He’s on the second floor, kind of a lookout. He’ll be down here soon as it gets dark. We’ve got three of us in the basement area. Limestone on three sides, hillside on the side facing west.”

“Okay.”

“Me and two female officers. One is a DCI agent, and she’s been hit by a fragment.”

“That wouldn’t be Hester Gorse?”

“Yeah, it would.”

“Sonofabitch,” he said. “Tell her this is Marty, and we’ll make sure we get her out.”

“Okay, Marty. Mind if the rest of us come, too?”

“Sorry about that. You’re all invited.” He paused. “Feds still aren’t here. What we got up there, anyway?”

“What you’re gonna be dealing with is some people who have AK-47s. Some explosives, too. Okay?”

“Yeah?”

“They don’t seem too…well…too capable. Don’t get that wrong; they’ll kill you if you screw up. But they don’t seem all that aggressive to me. You know?”

“Okay…”

“Some of these guys, they got guts. Just not all that sharp. Be careful.”

“Got it.”

“We’re getting a little concerned about it being dark real soon. I think they might try to get away. Watch the perimeter.”

“We must have fifty cops out this way. Most of ‘em are surrounding the area.”

“Good.”

“I gotta talk to my supervisor,” he said. “Lieutenant Granger. He ought to be here shortly. But what I’d like to do is get you guys out of there, and put my people in your place as the cork.”

“Sounds good to me.” Boy, did it.

“Okay, I’ll get back to you real quick, soon as the lieutenant gets here and I have a chance to talk to him. But be careful yourself,” he said. “Instead of making a break for it, they might go for you in the dark.”

This had occurred to me. “Right. Sounds like you got a good plan going there,” I said. “Go for it.”

“We just have to be real heads-up until they get up to us,” I said to Hester and Sally. “We don’t want a fuck-up at this stage.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Sally.

“The TAC team leader’s a guy named Marty,” I said to Hester. “He says hello and that he’ll get us out.”

“Marty’s all right,” she said. She sounded encouraged.

About two minutes later, my cell phone rang again. I answered, surprised that Lieutenant Granger had gotten to the perimeter so quickly.

“Hello!”

“Deputy Houseman? Is that you?”

It took me a second. “Hector? Is this Hector?”

“Yeah, you betcha,” he said, brightly, in his best Norske accent.

“Hector, I’m kinda busy right now…”

“I know, man. I just heard about the cops trapped in the barn out there. It’s all over TV. I thought I might have some information for you to tell them…”

“To tell the cops in the barn, Hector?”

“That’s right. About some people. The ones I think might be up there with them.”

“I’m one of the cops in the barn,” I said. “I’m really busy.”

“Holy shit,” he said. “You are in the barn?”

“Yeah.”

“Right now?”

“Hector…”

“Look, you gotta be
really
busy,” he said, speaking very fast, “so I’ll make this really quick. There are four people I have never seen before, they been asking questions around town today, about Linda, man, and Cheeto, and all of them. They wanted ‘specially to know where the farm was, man. They ask lots of people. They ask me while I am in the Pronto getting cigarettes.”

“They cops?” I asked.

He laughed. “No fuckin’ way, man. They ain’t exactly TV personalities, either.”

“You don’t know who they are?”

“No, but they look to me like they were in a hurry. You know? No hanging out. Right to the questions.”

“Hey…what kind of car, you know?”

“Sure. I am your best informant. You know I know. It is a green Dodge van, pretty new, with Nebraska license plates. I don’t have the numbers; I gotta admit I missed the numbers.”

“Plenty good enough,” I said. I thought Hector was on to something. If so, we now had the identity of the people who were shooting at us. Just to firm that up, I asked him what time he’d seen them.

“One o’clock or so,” he said.

That pretty well fit in with what had happened. I figured they must have gotten to the farm just before we did. I thought I had what they call a “high probability” of being right on this one. “Excellent,” I said. “Very good. Tell you what: give it about three minutes, okay? Then call nine-one-one and give the information to the dispatcher, okay? I can’t get the information to everybody from here. Okay?”

“Sure, man. Three minutes.
Tener cuidado
, Mr. Houseman. You be careful. I see the barn on the TV, and it looks pretty fuckin’ lonesome up there where you are.”

“We’ll be careful,” I said. “Just make that call.” I broke the connection. “That was Hector,” I said to Hester and Sally. “Just a sec…” and I called the office private line and gave the information that Hector was going to call 911.

Then I called One on the walkie-talkie and asked him to check the chopper broadcast for a green van parked somewhere on the farm, outside my view.

“I don’t know for sure,” I said, “but it looks like it might be the vehicle that brought these guys.”

“Ten-four, Three.”

“Call the office on a phone, One, and they can give you the background.” I was still not convinced the men in the shed didn’t have a scanner.

“Will do.” I heard his breathing change. “I’m goin’ over to the TV truck right now. They got everything on tape.”

“Ten-four. How we comin’ with the TAC team?”

“The lieutenant is here…just got here.”

“Ten-four.”

About five minutes later, Marty, the TAC team leader, called me on my cell phone. He was pissed off.

First, there was a question about watching the tapes. The technician in the TV truck said that, as far as he knew, anything that went out over the air could be shared with the “authorities.” He just wasn’t sure how much of the chopper footage had actually been broadcast by the station.

“You gotta be kidding.”

“Negative. We got a call in to the station manager. He’s gonna call.”

“Right. Okay. Well, that’s great.”

“That’s not so bad. I was watchin’ most of it as it came in, before it got ‘official,’ and I didn’t see a van. But,” Marty asked, “you ready for this?”

“What?”

“Things are kinda stalled on this end.”

The lieutenant, apparently, had decided that, since this-was a federal matter, his TAC team would act in support, but not take any overt action until the federal agents in charge were at the scene and could assess things for themselves.

“Policy,” said Marty. “I can’t change it.”

“Right.” Crap. I really didn’t need this.

“What I can do, though, is deploy my people on both sides of the lane. We can give you supporting fire toward the silo and in the main yard right up to the edge of the barn.”

“Right.” I didn’t say anything more for about two breaths. “I guess that’s what we get, then.”

“We can give you covering fire if you can make a break for it,” he said.

“We’ll keep that in mind.”

“Does that yard light up there work, do you know?”

“It did the last time we were here in the dark,” I said. “Two, three days back.”

“Then we’ll take it out. We’ve got night-vision goggles. No problem.”

“Don’t do that! Jesus, we’re gonna have little enough light here anyway. You take that out, we’ll be blind.”

“But then they can see my people as soon as they break cover.”