North of the Rock

by Ian Jones

  ‘Thank God,’ he breathed, turning around and smiling.

  Barlow just nodded, as if he had known this was the precise moment they would return all along.

  Abel happily poured himself another brandy, then looked back out the window and froze. He had expected to see two, or possibly three vehicles if Sheriff Carter had obstinately decided to come for a nightcap, but he could see four separate sets of headlights now and they were moving fast. He walked over to the window and looked down as the first two cars pulled up.

  Two dark sedans. Big shiny cars. Radio aerials visible on the boot. Two more vehicles were slowing and stopping behind them. Car doors opening, men streaming all over the place.

  ‘Er …’ he started, his mouth opening and closing.

  Barlow pulled himself up out of his chair and stared out the window.

  ‘What the hell!’ he snarled.

  ‘You …’ Abel started again, and then stopped. He turned around slowly on the spot, then moved into the centre of the room, his hand over his mouth. He looked around, and then pushing past Barlow walked from the room in short, jerky steps, out into the reception area for the conference rooms. The lift to the ground or up to the residence floors was to his left. The door to the stairway was next to it.

  He pushed through and walked up the stairs, blinking rapidly, shallow breaths, mouth hanging open. He reached the top floor and then walked up a final set that ran straight with a solid door on the top. He opened it, and stepped onto the roof.

  The strong wind blew him forward, and he lurched across the roof to the front, where he could look down over a low wall that ran all the way around, amazed by all the activity. He stood very still watching everything, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his notepad, and his trusty, expensive pen. He looked at it lovingly, and held it up. Then he wrote something on the notepad, and clutching it in his hand climbed onto the wall, then stepped off.

  John looked at his watch wearily, ten past six. Dawn was finally breaking; the first proper rays of sunlight stretching out across the compound. He looked around, whichever direction he turned there were people working.

  Patrick had arrived, listened carefully, and swept into immediate action. He had bought seven agents with him, but within three hours had over thirty on the ground. Two helicopters had arrived, then more vehicles, the state police, an hour ago Frank Slater had turned up.

  For the first time ever, Patrick wasn’t wearing a suit. He was dressed in dark jeans, sweatshirt and jacket, emblazoned with the letters F.B.I. across the back in yellow. All the other agents were dressed similarly. Now, there were generators running, and spotlights everywhere. The Regulators had been taken away in one van, handcuffed, silent and subdued.

  The first big news was when Patrick looked at the two men that were there. He recognised Raymer, but he stared in amazement at the other man.

  ‘Jesus,’ he stated, unable to look away.

  ‘What?’ John asked.

  Patrick shook his head and pointed.

  ‘So, we’ve got a judge, and also the planning director for Homeland Security. Meet James Waldron.’

  ‘Fuck!’ Gilbey blurted out.

  ‘Indeed,’ Patrick agreed. ‘I think this will take some explaining Mr Waldron.’

  Waldron started to blabber a series of excuses, but Patrick cut him off, and he and Raymer were taken away and driven off in separate vehicles, the judge loudly protesting his innocence.

  The search had begun in earnest, more and more agents and state police arriving.

  An hour later John and Gilbey were sitting on the ground with their backs against the front wall of the building. Gilbey had collected their pick-up and it was sitting forlornly over by the gates, it was light enough that they could see everywhere now.

  Patrick walked across and dropped to the ground in front of them.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to need you to come in. Both of you.’

  John agreed, he had expected this. Gilbey didn’t look happy.

  ‘Come in where?’ he asked.

  ‘Austin. I’m sorry, but I got no choice. This is massive, we already found two bodies. This whole place will have to be dug up, we got to get searching, identification, plus all the forensics. Raymer and Waldron won’t go quietly. We’ve arrested Barlow, who is also making a lot of noise. So now we’ve got to put it all together, and this is beyond serious. I’ve got you two, and the three men that were abducted. But we should be able to get it tidy, and fast. Listen, I’ll get rooms in the Four Seasons, I’ll treat you guys like kings. But I’m gonna need all the help I can get.’

  ‘I know that, it’s no problem for me,’ John replied, looking at Gilbey.

  The big man sighed, and nodded.

  ‘Fine. But Carrie comes with me. She loves Austin.’

  Patrick chuckled.

  ‘Ok. Hell, I’ll pay for a romantic dinner. Least I can do.’

  Another helicopter flew in, and hovered kicking up a massive cloud of dust before settling. More agents, plus a man in a suit who was looking around everywhere shocked.

  ‘That’s my cue,’ Patrick said standing up.

  He started to walk toward the helicopter and then stopped and turned back.

  ‘By the way, there’s a couple of things you should probably know, I said we had Barlow; he has been taken in, he’s going to be held at Travis, along with the Regulators, or whatever it is they call themselves.’

  ‘Travis?’ John asked.

  ‘Prison near to Austin, there’s a few around but that one has the best access for us in the jail.’

  ‘What about Abel?’ Gilbey asked.

  ‘That’s the other thing. He jumped off the roof at the Country Club, so no trial for him.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Left a note, they found it on him. Just said “I’m sorry”, that was it.’

  Patrick turned back and walked quickly across to meet the man in the suit.

  ‘Abel. Man, what a fucking chickenshit.’ Gilbey spat into the dirt.

  But John wasn’t all that surprised. Cane had completely disintegrated, right in front of his eyes, and he guessed that Abel had done the exact same thing once realisation had hit home. Barlow was the one that was behind everything, and he would go down fighting. He would be the prize.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  By the time everything was in place in Austin, it was after five.

  A conference had been arranged for five-thirty in the FBI office in Austin, which was a big brick and glass building. John and Gilbey had packed some clothes and then been flown into Austin by helicopter, Gilbey as amazed by the experience of travelling in such style as John had been the previous day. They had been whisked straight off to the Four Seasons, a grand building overlooking the Colorado river. They had both got a couple of hours’ sleep, and met for a very late lunch/early dinner. Carrie was coming in that evening, she was excited by all the fuss.

  It had been decided that John should be at the conference, but Gilbey could miss it, as it was all about procedure at this stage, so John was picked up from the hotel and taken to the FBI headquarters, which were way out to the north.

  Patrick had also been able to get a some sleep, he was staying in a Holiday Inn not far from the headquarters, and was back in the usual suit with crisp shirt and tie. They sat down with a cup of coffee while Patrick filled him in.

  ‘Ok, so the guy you saw in the suit getting out the helicopter? That’s Jack Carpenter, he’s regional director for the state. He’s an old hand and a good guy. He can be volatile, and he will not take any shit from anyone, but I’d rather have him at the top than a lot of others.’

  ‘Right, well, I’m happy if you are.’

  ‘Not so good, is the DA is in on it now. Name of Philip Reed. He insisted. Technically it’s FBI jurisdiction but as ever we got to play the political game. We’ve also got the PD involved, and your old friend Frank Slater.’

  ‘Slater’s ok, I think he’s a good enough cop. What’
s the problem with the DA?’

  Patrick raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Not sure where to start … He’s an old buddy of Raymer’s, which is not ideal. And we know he has met Barlow on a few occasions. But there is nothing to tie him to Gray Rock. Look, I got no choice in this, but trust me, I am checking this guy out. And If I get even the slightest whiff of anything I am pulling him, Texas or no Texas.’

  He looked at his watch.

  ‘Come on, let’s go up.’

  The conference room was on the top floor, with big windows all around.

  Jack Carpenter was already there, wearily sitting at the head of the table in a crumpled suit. He stood up when they came in and Patrick introduced them.

  Carpenter nodded to him and smiled grimly.

  ‘It’s good to meet you John. I’d like to be saying thank you for bringing this to us, but, well, as you can imagine, hell, I just don’t know what the hell to say to you.’

  John raised a hand.

  ‘I get it.’

  They sat down, and John was introduced to another man sitting opposite, a big, dark-skinned Hispanic agent called Carl Munoz.

  ‘Carl is one of the section heads here,’ Patrick explained. ‘Jack has asked him to get involved.’

  Frank Slater walked in, and John shook his hand.

  ‘I knew you were going to be trouble, I just knew it,’ he said with a wry smile as he sat down.

  There were another couple of agents whose names John immediately forgot, plus a lieutenant from the Austin PD. Then in walked Philip Reed, the DA. He was wearing a light grey suit, pink shirt and had blow-dried hair. He looked around and headed straight for Carpenter, who stood up and shook his hand.

  ‘Hey Philip, this is Patrick Skelton, he is one of our senior investigators out of Washington, and the gentleman to his left is John Smith, who’s involvement I believe has been explained to you.’

  Reed shook Patrick’s hand, and then took hold of John’s and looked at him shrewdly.

  ‘Mr Smith, you’re a long way from home, I understand you are at the heart of all this.’

  ‘No, not really. I kind of got dragged into it. And I didn’t expect anything like all this shit.’

  ‘Hmmm, well.’

  Reed shrugged and sat down. He had an assistant with him, the only person who did, a young blonde girl who sat down next to him and opened a big folder.

  An agent was busy handing around cups of coffee. Carpenter coughed.

  ‘Right. So, we got ourselves a situation. To bring everyone onto the same page, this afternoon we had agents at Travis take initial statements.’

  Small stacks of printed sheets were passed around.

  ‘Now at this stage, we got only slight co-operation, two of these Regulators, one named Raymond Tilling, the other Paul Gibbs, well, they seem the most likely to talk and we are hopeful they will be helpful. The other two are in denial. Raymer, Barlow, and Waldron, all refused to say anything at all, other than Raymer and Barlow’s insistence they are innocent. They all demanded an attorney, no real surprise.’

  ‘Judge Raymer,’ Reed said pointedly.

  ‘What?’ Carpenter asked irritably.

  ‘Judge Raymer. It’s his correct title. I think he deserves it.’

  Carpenter fixed with Reed with a stare of cold steel.

  ‘What he deserves Philip, is to be made to run around in that goddam burial ground while a bunch of his assholes buddies chase him with hand grenades. That’s what he deserves. And don’t start thinking you are going to change my mind, or anyone else in the agencies mind neither. He is guilty, and he is going to pay. We need you of all people to do your damn job, forget about all the days you had lunch on him or played golf with the man. This is a solid case. Carter is being held at State, but had a medical episode this morning, and is in the hospital building; his situation is said to be serious. He has also shown a willingness to talk. So, I don’t want to hear one goddamn word defending Barlow or Raymer, I don’t care that we’re in Texas.’

  Well said, thought John, admiration for Carpenter growing.

  Reed coloured and went to speak, but decided to say nothing.

  ‘Next thing,’ Carpenter continued, ‘Is Patrick will be the lead on this. He is in charge. He will report to me and I will assist where necessary but he has the experience and he has the knowledge to make sure we stay on track.’

  ‘Now wait a minute,’ Reed interjected. ‘This is a Texas matter and …’

  ‘I don’t care Philip. It just happens to have occurred here in Texas. I cannot keep hearing this bullshit. It needs investigating properly and Patrick is by far and away the best person to do it. So, you’ll have to learn to live with it Mr District Attorney because I am not changing my mind. ‘

  Hear, hear thought John inwardly smiling.

  Again, Reed said nothing, while his assistant scribbled away furiously.

  Carpenter looked hard at him, and then continued.

  ‘Tomorrow, is day one. Raymer, Waldron and Barlow will be brought here for formal questioning in the morning. Austin PD will be assisted by Patrick and Carl and will have full documentation.’

  ‘What about bail?’ Reed asked.

  Carpenter shrugged.

  ‘I’m not a judge, and I don’t work for the PD or the justice department Philip, but I would imagine that the flight risk would be high, wouldn’t you? And yes, I do know this isn’t a money issue, no amount couldn’t be met by Mr Barlow. I am recommending no bail, as is Lieutenant Jackson. We have already entered that and their attorneys are aware.’

  He nodded to the police lieutenant who was sitting further down the table who nodded back.

  ‘Finally, at this time five bodies have been recovered from the scene. There are only IDs on two. Both gunshot victims. One of those is Paul Hunter, who is a known close associate of Barlow and the other is one Andrew Walters who worked in some capacity for Hunter, and we have documented testimony surrounding their shootings and these are not considered suspicious. However at this time there have been three other bodies that have been unearthed. So far, they all appear to have suffered death by firearms and the basic forensic at the scene so far is at least one of the bodies has been in the ground there over two years. The corpses discovered have yet to be identified and the search is continuing. There is also considerable forensic evidence at the scene, we can place Mr Hunter and Mr Walters there, and also Mr William Harold Barlow.’

  Reed sat up straight.

  ‘Barlow?’

  ‘Yes. His fingerprints are on the door to the storeroom. He already stated he knew nothing about Brown’s field, but we can place him there. Good work actually.’

  ‘What about this Hunter and er … Walters?’ Reed asked.

  ‘If you read your notes, you will see they are both part of the Gray Rock organisation, known as the Regulators, and were shot and killed at Brown’s. It has been deemed a legal killing; protecting the three men who had been abducted and kept by force.’

  ‘And where are these abducted men? Can they provide evidence?’

  ‘They have already provided detailed statements, and have identified Carter as being the man responsible for their abduction, which has not been contested. He travelled over the border driving the van they were held in. He was in uniform and was credible; he told the men they were needed as labourers for a road being built. It’s clear this is something he has done previously, like I said he has told us that he will give a statement.’

  Reed looked at the notes his assistant had in front of her.

  ‘And Mr Cane?’ he asked.

  Carpenter sat back and looked steadily at Reed.

  ‘Tell me, do you know him too?’

  Reed cleared his throat.

  ‘No, well not really. I attended a presentation at the plant by BRP and he was there. I was introduced but we didn’t speak.’

  Carpenter held his gaze.

  ‘The man has a lot to say. He could bring all this down on his own. I say again Philip, what
ever your relationship is it is important you keep your distance from all of these men.’

  Reed looked uneasy but said nothing.

  Then, the meeting went around the table, people asking questions, plenty getting written down. John had nothing to say, he just listened, and looked forward to tomorrow. He spoke to Carpenter afterward, asking about Sheriff Carter, unable to shift the animosity he felt.

  ‘Heart attack,’ Carpenter told him simply.

  John remembered the fat man, huge gut hanging over his belt, waddling around breathlessly and eating the big bucket of fried chicken in the car. He tried to feel some compassion but it was impossible. There was no real surprise in what had happened to Carter, and a lot of people would say he had got what he deserved.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Day One

  John and Gilbey sat in a room at headquarters. They were at a table, and on the wall in front of them was a large monitor. There were a couple of other agents in the room, and Jack Carpenter was constantly moving in and out. Philip Reed and his assistant were present for a lot of the time, whenever there was something actually happening. They were watching Gregory Raymer being interviewed. He wasn’t saying very much, he appeared to view the whole process as a disdainful waste of time, yawning a lot and sneering disinterestedly at the camera. In the room with him was his attorney, also aloof, plus a beefy police detective sergeant called Canning, Patrick, and also Carl Munoz. Canning was patiently asking questions, that Raymer would occasionally answer vaguely, insisting that his invitation to Gray Rock was for dinner, and he had been invited to do some target practice afterward. For fun, he added, smugly. The interview dragged on, Patrick also asking questions, until he terminated it, and told Raymer that he would be going back to Travis, which clearly angered the old judge. He stopped as he was being led out the door and hurled a torrent of abuse at Patrick, who just smiled back at him.

  Next in was Waldron, same cast present, just a different attorney. He was not as comfortable as Raymer, frequently changing his story, but sticking to the target practice version which he had unfortunately heard Raymer spouting at Brown’s, then at the end throwing in he thought he could maybe shoot an armadillo. But he was stuttering and unconvincing, even his own attorney was clearly uncomfortable. John could not believe he would be able to last.