Counterfeit Road (27 page)

‘Yes.’

‘So why did you strip his wallet?’

‘We had our own investigation and we turned the effects over. Your Secret Service got them. We didn’t leave the country with any of it, just copies. The actual documents we mailed to your Secret Service office in San Francisco and we confirmed they got them. It was understood they would turn them over to the homicide inspectors.’

‘That’s not the same.’

‘I know it isn’t. I knew what we were doing was wrong. We took evidence from the scene.’

‘Who did you notify at the Secret Service?’

‘Larry made the phone call. I don’t know who he spoke to.’

‘You didn’t ask?’

‘By then I didn’t want to know. I was very shaken by the killing. You have to understand we were pencil pushers. I came from university in accounting and mathematics. Half of what we were always doing was forensics. We tried to figure out where someone had been and where money had traveled. With Alan Krueger we knew something was up. He had acquired a way of disappearing, so we guessed he was operating under other aliases. Hardly unusual, but we were very interested to know where he stayed in Vancouver and under what name, and what kind of offer he would make us.’

‘Who killed Alan Krueger?’

She was quiet a long moment.

‘It’s all you really want, isn’t it? You don’t really care about any of the rest of this.’

‘Who do you think killed him?’

‘Either the criminal elements he was dealing with who didn’t like the exchange rate, or your government took him out because he was playing both sides.’

‘Our government?’

‘Yes.’

‘Barbara, I like you. I like it that you were willing to meet with me and talk and that you want to get this off your chest, but it feels to me as if you’re still holding back. It feels as if you’ve colluded on a new version with Larry that’s missing some details. If I didn’t have the videotape I’d have to look at you as suspects.’

Her voice was much harder as she answered, ‘That’s already been done and I can’t solve the murder for you. I’ve tried to clear this whole godawful thing. I don’t know what else to do. I’m going to say good bye now.’

‘Barbara, wait,’ but she was gone.

FORTY-NINE

F
ox News speculated that a Republican President wouldn’t have canceled the trip to San Francisco. Other media focused on the search for the missing explosive devices. Photos of the devices showed. A headline read ‘Thousands Could Die.’ The White House press secretary stressed that it wasn’t the President’s decision to cancel the San Francisco trip, it was Secret Service caution. The Secret Service linked the decision to a credible threat that they couldn’t elaborate on and so for twenty-four hours the media just winged it.

Raveneau clicked on a video, a three minute in-depth interview with a terrorist expert who appeared to be speaking from a chair in the study of his home. He tied the bomb casing design and pattern of delivery to Al Qaeda. He sounded quite certain but Raveneau had to cut him off to take a call from Becker.

‘A package delivered,’ Becker said. ‘From Hawaii.’ Raveneau heard him inhale. ‘I’m in my office. Why don’t we open it together?’

‘See you in a few minutes.’

When Raveneau walked into the office he quietly shut the door behind him. The FedEx box sat center of Becker’s desk.

‘I have an agreement with Captain Ramirez that I don’t hold things like this on my desk after I’ve opened them. It’ll go to him this afternoon.’

‘You told me that yesterday. You told me a couple of times.’

‘I just don’t want there to be any misunderstanding.’

‘OK, but you don’t have to build a firewall between us. I understand what you have to do.’

Raveneau stared at the box but kept thinking about Barbara Haney and the glibness with which she had lied to him and backtracked. He watched Becker root around in his desk looking for something to cut the packing tape with. And then a text came from Ortega. He read that and laid the phone down. His phone buzzed with other calls but he didn’t look at the screen, instead watched Becker lift out an object encased in bubble wrap.

‘Has a little weight to it,’ Becker said. ‘Not much, but something, more than a letter or a CD.’

Didn’t look like one either and when Raveneau saw Becker was unsure what to do with it he said, ‘Can I take a look?’

Becker handed it to him and as soon as he had it in hand he knew what it was. Raveneau cut away the plastic wrap and Becker said, ‘That goes straight to the crime lab.’

Raveneau nodded.

‘What type of Glock is that?’

One of the things Raveneau liked about Becker was he didn’t pay much attention to guns. Never had and he was notoriously bad out on the range. Raveneau figured it was one of the reasons Becker had such a high solve rate. He always focused on motive, on why things happened.

‘This is the model the Austrian engineer Gaston Glock started with. This is a Glock 17. It shoots a nine, a nine by nineteen millimeter parabellum, the NATO standard and one of the design requirements when Glock came up with this gun.’

Raveneau studied it a little longer then folded the bubble wrap back over. He was careful not to touch it. He looked up at Becker and said, ‘Alan Krueger was shot with a nine.’

‘Did you have any idea this was coming?’

‘No.’

Becker picked up the FedEx box and looked it over.

‘Did this Thomas Casey send it?’

‘Matt Frank sent it for him. That’s what Candel told me, but I don’t think this is what Casey had in mind to send.’

‘You said this Matt Frank travels with his coffee business. He goes to trade shows. He was in Los Angeles not long ago. Isn’t that correct?’

‘That’s what he told us.’

‘How about this idea? Matt Frank sent you the videotape from Los Angeles. He FedExed the videotape same as he FedExed this gun.’

‘Could be. You should have stayed a homicide inspector.’

‘I know, should never have taken the promotion. I’m not cut out to herd cats. But I get the feeling you don’t think my idea fits.’

‘The kid has anger, a lot of it. He was close to shooting me when he found me at the house. I heard the buzz of one of his shots go past my head and there was a moment there when I could feel him debating. But he was angry before he met me. As soon as he introduced me to Casey, he disappeared. He took off. He may not know it yet, but he doesn’t like his uncle much. Uncle Casey calls the shots, writes the checks, and tells him what to do. So by sending this gun instead of the complaint against me he strikes at his Uncle Casey. I’m speculating, but that’s how I read it.

‘It may be the gun used to kill Krueger, but if it is it’ll be a ballistics match only. There won’t be any prints, any residue, anything to tie it directly to Casey. It won’t be registered to Thomas Casey or anyone we can find. It’s probably not registered.’

‘You can find that out quickly.’

Raveneau nodded.

‘I’ll take it to the lab and then I’ve got to go meet Ortega.’

In his car Raveneau checked to see who the missed calls were from. He figured Ortega followed his text with calls but all three were from Ryan Candel. He didn’t call Candel back yet. He called Ortega who said, ‘You inspired me, Raveneau. I did another search and found something. We’re at the cabinet shop. Come on over.’

FIFTY

‘
W
hat did you find?’

‘Money in a floor safe underneath one of those bolted down saws. This is like a fun house. Everywhere you look here you find something. But like I said, you inspired me.’ Ortega turned to him. ‘It’s the money we found I want you to see.’

Ortega squinted and for whatever the reason looked pained. Bruce Ortega worked his way from uniform officer to sergeant to a stint with Burglary and Robbery to the Homicide Detail by age thirty-four. He came on quietly and Raveneau knew him as a hard worker, knowledgeable about DNA and the more recent forensic advances available to them. He had good instincts and was intuitive about motive. He called himself a steady plodder, but Raveneau didn’t think of him that way at all.

This afternoon he was dressed in a charcoal gray sport coat, black pants and black loafers. He once told Raveneau that his wife shopped for him twice a year at Nordstrom’s semiannual half-off sales and got her inspiration from watching the remake of the TV series
Hawaii Five-O
. She then toned it down to their budget.

‘The safe was underneath the big band saw. I didn’t come here looking for anything other than a new idea. Here, let me show you.’

They walked to the tool room where the cutting was done and looked at a saw cut in the concrete surrounding the area where the band saw had sat. Someone pointed it out during the search Raveneau was on, though he couldn’t remember who. Ortega ran the edge of his shoe along the saw cut line.

‘We cut the bolts holding the saw down and I shoved the saw out of the way with the forklift.’

Raveneau looked into the open safe.

‘Where’s the money?’

‘In Khan’s office, the locksmith just left.’

‘How much was there?’

‘I haven’t touched it, but enough for both of us.’

He smiled.

‘I want you to look at it before I notify my fearless task force leader. When I do they’ll show up here with a dozen agents.’

‘You’ve gone rogue.’

‘No, technically you’re on my team.’ He turned. ‘Did you hear they made an arrest this morning?’

‘Yeah, I heard a couple of hours ago about Mathis.’

The Bureau had arrested Cleg Mathis, prime suspect in the Khan murders at a McDonald’s in St Paul, Minnesota, but headed to Canada with false ID. It happened mid morning Pacific Time. Raveneau was impressed the Bureau had tracked him down.

In Khan’s office Raveneau looked in the bag then pulled on latex gloves and lifted out a bundle of bills. It shouldn’t surprise him but it did, and as it did, something brushed along the edges of his consciousness again. The blatant aspect was striking. The bills could hardly stick out more but they probably paid Khan with them. In his view it was another mistake, but maybe they had it all so well scripted they were that confident.

‘What do you make of these?’ Ortega asked.

‘They look like the counterfeit bills my guy Krueger was carrying. They’re identifiable but not traceable.’

‘But you’re saying they’re the same as what you found on Krueger, right?’

‘They look the same to me, but I’m an instant expert. You need to call the Secret Service.’

‘Why would you pay anybody with counterfeit notes that look like they were buried in your grandfather’s mattress?’

‘Maybe they wanted to make it easier for the Feds and us later. Maybe they want the operation rolled up after it’s done.’

Raveneau shrugged. He really didn’t know what to make of this, but he felt reasonably confident the bills would match.

‘How many of these bills got printed?’ Ortega asked.

‘Good question.’

‘They haven’t given you any idea?’

‘I doubt anyone really knows.’

‘And they’ve been out of circulation all this time?’

Raveneau shrugged, couldn’t answer that either. Ortega knew about the buy last July so there was nothing to say about that.

‘Is there a big stash over there in Hawaii, Raveneau?’

‘There’s one somewhere.’

FIFTY-ONE

B
ut if there was the connection Larry Benhaime suggested, Raveneau wasn’t sure how he was going to prove it. He talked awhile that night with Coe after Ortega called and said the Secret Service had confirmed the bills were counterfeit and in the same series. The next morning ballistics testing matched the Glock 17 to three of the bullets removed from Krueger’s body and Raveneau and la Rosa sat down with Becker and the captain.

By late afternoon they were on their way to the airport. They would get to Hawaii tonight, but it was going to be a long one. Their flight routed through Los Angeles and included a two and a half hour layover.

At LAX Raveneau talked again with Coe and learned more details about the Mathis arrest.

‘He had the garrote with him and when we showed him everything else we have he caved. He gave us a name and a description of a woman that’s close to what Drury gave us, right down to an abdominal scar she told Drury was from a bullet that grazed her. Mathis claims she slept with him same as Drury.’

He sounded puzzled as he continued.

‘We still can’t figure out who she is. We got a little bit from Interpol, but it may just be chatter. There are rumors of an American woman who fits the description and acts as a go-between. She may have organized the murder of a London banker for Russian clients, but the Russians usually stick with their own. She probably had a role in the kidnapping-torture-murder of two telecom executives in Brazil. Interpol believes she’s an independent contractor reached through a website, but they don’t have the website link.

‘Both Mathis and Drury did describe more or less the same woman. Drury claims she has a Texas accent but looks as if she could be from the Middle East. Mathis told us this afternoon, southern accent and he was sure she was half Lebanese though she didn’t tell him that. What that information does for us I don’t know. It may not do anything.’

‘The similar descriptions are worth something.’

‘They are and we’ve got agents looking hard for her. That said, we should have stayed with Mathis. He was on his way to Canada to get paid fifty thousand dollars for taking out the Khans. We should have followed him but we didn’t want him to get over the border. He was carrying a throwaway phone and supposed to get a call from her after reaching a rendezvous point in Toronto. The Mounties are there and we have agents with them watching the area but so far no sign of her. I’ll call you if anything changes.’

La Rosa and Raveneau landed late in the night. The plane was quiet before landing then picked up cheerful chatter as it unloaded. Within forty minutes they were headed to their rooms. Before dawn Raveneau made coffee in the room. He talked with Ryan Candel as he waited downstairs outside the lobby for la Rosa. She came off the elevator with a wry smile wearing the lei left on her bed.