Counterfeit Road dbr-2

by Kirk Russell

  ‘I think he really believed that talent agency was going to call him. In the first week when he was waiting for their call he was very upbeat, unnaturally so. Then he was just as down.’

  Raveneau came back in and they left a few minutes later. That afternoon he and la Rosa sat down with Ortega and Hagen. Ortega asked if they heard his press conference this morning. Raveneau nodded.

  ‘We heard you on the radio on the way out.’

  ‘How did I sound?’

  ‘Like you’re doing your best and you’re handling the media but that we have no idea who killed four cabinet makers or why they did it.’

  That quieted the room. It sent a signal from Raveneau to Ortega and she wondered why he was as hard as he was sometimes. Or maybe it wasn’t being hard. Maybe it was the truth. Either way, Ortega’s feelings were hurt and Ortega wasn’t a bad guy. He was a good inspector and it was just a style thing with him and Raveneau.

  Raveneau didn’t care whether everybody liked him or not. He had no problem telling Ortega now, ‘I didn’t hear you ask for the public’s help. We don’t need to be talking to the media telling them what we don’t know. We need someone who saw something unusual on Sixteenth Street to come forward.’

  ‘All right, Ben, but I’ve still got to talk to the press. How did the Drury interview get so screwed up?’

  ‘I pushed him when I didn’t need to. He wants to be appreciated before anything else and I wasn’t sending that signal. I was asking for details of the day of the delivery and I should have asked him first how he felt and apologized for following him. He’s that kind of guy.’

  ‘That fits with something the owner said about his acting aspirations,’ said la Rosa, and then recounted what the trucking firm owner had told her.

  ‘He may not be getting from society what he feels he’s owed.’

  Now Cynthia stuck her head in and said, ‘Your friend Ryan Candel is holding for you.’

  Raveneau stood. ‘I’ve got to take this.’

  As he left and shut the door, Ortega asked, ‘So did Raveneau blow it today?’

  Her first reaction was to defend her partner but she caught herself and tried to be objective. Everything mattered. The San Francisco Homicide Detail was basically nowhere on this case with a lot of pressure to solve it.

  ‘He pushed him,’ she said, ‘but Drury didn’t quit his job today because of Raveneau. He felt betrayed by his boss and said so. He said he was tricked into coming to the yard.’

  ‘But Raveneau just said he blew it, that he was too aggressive?’

  Now she did find herself defending her partner. He had a completely different style than her, and sure, he pushed Drury. But then as he did they saw a part of Drury they wouldn’t have otherwise seen. Where it would go she didn’t know and neither did anyone else in this room, but Raveneau had a way of getting people to reveal themselves and Ortega knew that the same as her. She figured Ortega was still smarting over the press conference comments.

  ‘You and Ben are done on this one,’ he said. ‘We’ll take over with Drury.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘After what happened, it makes sense, doesn’t it.’

  ‘I don’t have any problem with it, it’s your investigation.’

  ‘Will Raveneau?’

  She shook her head. He wouldn’t. Before they walked in here Raveneau told her Ortega will take over Drury today.

  ‘OK, so we’re in agreement,’ he said, and they were, but that’s not how it worked out.

  SEVENTEEN

  ‘ Hungry?’ Raveneau asked Candel as they sat down at a table on the small deck above the sidewalk.

  ‘I’m always hungry.’

  ‘OK, order whatever you want and order me a beer and a burger. I’m buying. I’ve got to return a call but it won’t take long. What made you call me? I didn’t know if I’d hear from you again.’

  ‘I remembered some other things.’

  ‘Good. I want to hear about them. I’ll be right back.’

  Raveneau called the crime lab and asked for Lim but it was several minutes before Lim picked up. When he did, he said, ‘Some information for you. The first is we got a good fingerprint from one of the photos.’

  ‘It’s probably mine.’

  ‘It’s not, I checked. Second is I scanned in that landscape photo and ran an app that compares a photo to a database of hundreds of thousands of photos. It comes up with a percentage probability of a location. The app recognized the terrain. It is the north-west shore of the Kohala coast on the Big Island. Check a map and you’ll see there’s one road that cuts through from above. That’s where the photo was taken from. The last thing is I did more research and I’m sure these photos were taken between 1981 and 1990. I know you want it closer but that’s the best I can do.’

  ‘Thanks for what you’ve done.’

  ‘What about the fingerprint? What do you want to do with it?’

  ‘Put it somewhere safe. I hope to send you prints to compare it to very soon.’

  When Raveneau came back out on to the deck he saw Candel had zipped his coat and turned up the collar. The sky was white with winter fog this afternoon and it was chill on the deck, but they could talk easily out here.

  ‘Sorry I was drunk last time we met,’ Candel said. ‘I rip through cocktails way too fast.’

  ‘I used to have that problem.’

  ‘How did you get rid of it?’

  ‘I started making sure my first drink lasted at least twenty minutes.’

  ‘Like you just changed overnight?’

  ‘Took about fifteen years.’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘You’ve got to want it.’

  ‘I’m getting there.’

  ‘You’ll know when you’re there.’

  ‘Were you a cop then?’

  ‘I’ve been one so long I don’t remember what it’s like not to be one. But cops are people, Ryan. Listen, I’ve got a question for you. If your dad turns out to be a good guy, how will you deal with that?’

  ‘He won’t be.’

  ‘What if he is?’

  ‘He and my mom had other problems. He dumped her but she was leaving anyway. He was big-time into political stuff, like seriously over-the-top right wing action, which was a major problem for her. His friends too, same deal with them. They had meetings and planned shit. That’s what I didn’t tell you that night.’

  ‘In laid back Hawaii?’

  ‘Yeah, it tripped her out. You should have talked to her about how laid back Dad and his ex-Nam buddies were.’

  ‘Give me a story she told you?’

  The waitress came out before Candel could answer. She brought the beers. When the deck door closed he said, ‘The word they used was interdiction. They liked that word. They did interdictions and there was like a small group of them. She thought they killed two draft dodgers, American dudes who went to Canada. She thinks they killed them after the war was over, as in went up there and found them. She was pretty sure that happened.’

  ‘This doesn’t sound like your mom the way you’ve described her up until now. She doesn’t sound as in love with Captain Frank.’

  ‘She was. It’s all true. What I told you was true. She mentioned this other stuff more as I got older.’

  ‘Your mom loved him, so how bad could he be?’

  ‘She also said he smuggled things for people in his luggage. I guess they didn’t use to check a pilot’s luggage. A pilot could like walk on a plane carrying his bag.’

  ‘Any idea what he smuggled?’

  ‘No clue.’

  ‘OK, well, thanks for this and I’ll do what I can to check out that Canada story.’

  Truth was Raveneau was disappointed. After their earlier phone conversation he thought Candel had something more substantial. He pointed down the street toward the Ferry Building. ‘There used to be a freeway here.’

  ‘I kind of remember it.’

  ‘Commuters would park in a lot underneath it. Alan Krueger was shot and kill
ed not far from that lot and between two support pylons for the freeway. Very recently someone sent a videotape addressed to me, probably because I’m in the Cold Case Unit. It’s a videotape of the shooting of Krueger.’

  ‘Like a snuff film?’

  ‘In a way I guess you could say that. But I think it was proof that Krueger had been dealt with, though I wonder if the shooter knew the video was being made. In the video is a partial profile of the shooter, not a very good one, but enhancement techniques are much better now and I’ve had photos of your dad compared.’

  ‘I knew it.’

  ‘It’s not your dad. Your dad didn’t shoot Alan Krueger. He may have known him but he didn’t kill him. When your mom talked about his friends did you ever hear the name Alan Krueger, or any nickname that might sound something like his name? If your dad was called Captain Frank it’s possible his friends had nicknames too.’

  ‘I don’t remember any.’ He was quiet now then said, ‘So he didn’t kill this Krueger, but it’s still weird stuff and he was around. I don’t think he’s going to turn out to be a good guy. I’m friggin’ afraid of what I might find out about him.’

  ‘Do you want to see this video to know what this case is about?’

  ‘Why do you want to show it to me?’

  ‘You were five years old in 1989 and that’s old enough to have memories. Alan Krueger may have been a friend of your dad’s. He may have known your mom, so seeing him might jar your memory. It’s a longshot, but it’s possible.’

  But it was more than that. Raveneau was hoping Candel would feel something for the man gunned down and it would stay with him.

  ‘OK, I’ll do it, but when?’

  ‘How about tomorrow?’

  ‘I’ve got a music gig tonight. I’ll be up all night.’

  ‘Then call me in the late afternoon.’

  ‘OK. All right, I’ll call you. I want to know more about this. I want to know who this Krueger guy was.’

  EIGHTEEN

  As Celeste washed new bar glasses her face was lit and happy. She had passed the inspections. Bo, the new cook was there and with the lights down low, the space looked all but complete. And she was no longer looking for a big crowd on opening night. Raveneau wasn’t sure why the shift in expectations had come, but it sounded right. She spoke of a soft opening and word of mouth to get people here. He worked alongside them setting up the back bar until late in the night.

  Early the next morning he drove to the Hall. Ortega called as he got upstairs to Homicide. It gave Raveneau a chance to apologize.

  ‘Sorry about yesterday afternoon. I know you’ve worked this thing non-stop.’

  ‘No, I’m the asshole letting the press thing go to my head. This is the biggest investigation I’ve ever worked and I’m still trying to get my head around that. Despite what I said yesterday, I’m calling this morning to ask for your help. We’re going to have to give Khan back the building in a couple of days. His lawyer is on us and now the judge is too. Khan is going to lose his business if he can’t get in there and make cabinets, but I want to go through it again.’

  ‘Search the building again?’

  ‘Yes, and I’m wondering if you could come down and help us.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Eight o’clock.’

  ‘See you then.’

  It was the last thing he wanted to do this morning and he’d come in early to get a clean start on the day. But at eight o’clock Raveneau stood behind the other inspectors and listened as Ortega explained what he wanted to accomplish. When he finished Hagen started in on Khan.

  ‘Khan is a naturalized citizen, but his wife doesn’t look like she’s got all of her papers in order. I’m getting this from Immigration and Customs Enforcement. I’ve got a friend who works for ICE. We can use this with Khan and I think we should. He needs to tell us why he’s still alive.’

  Raveneau disliked the immigration angle. He disliked the way it had grown after 9/11 and again as the recession put the heat on illegal Hispanics. It was an excuse not to do police work, but he did agree that the owner, David Khan, was the one with the opportunity to kill the four employees. If any motive arose everything would focus on him. He listened briefly, then walked over to Ortega.

  ‘Where do you want me?’

  ‘I want you to go through Khan’s office again.’

  ‘Hasn’t it already been searched twice?’

  ‘Even more than that, but let’s do it again. We’re not going to get another chance.’

  ‘You got it.’

  It wasn’t hard. The computer wasn’t here and neither were most of the files. Raveneau sat at Khan’s desk and looked through his pencils and rubber bands. He looked through the window at what Khan saw every day and tried to imagine a believable motive for Khan to kill his four employees, including one who had been with him since the start of the business twelve years ago. Drugs, smuggling, something illicit, but Ortega’s team was coming up with nothing. Interviews with the contractors and architects on Khan’s contact lists painted a picture of a hardworking man who strove to please his clients.

  Raveneau went through a file cabinet that still held older records of past jobs and invoices. Khan’s small careful handwriting was easily identifiable. The records for 2008 and forward were missing and he confirmed with Ortega they were at Homicide and would also have to be returned soon. The employee records were at the Hall as well. There wasn’t much of anything in the office. Even the trash can was empty. The carpet that once sat under the desk was at the crime lab where blood was matched to one of the employees, but it was old blood and he doubted it was anything more than the employees cutting themselves while working.

  He looked through the window again at the kitchen clean space where Khan stored completed cabinets. Two jobs were complete and waiting to ship. The newly built cabinets were wrapped individually in thin plastic to protect them, but that plastic was in tatters, cut loose when the cabinet interiors were searched. Khan was a meticulous man. Raveneau glanced at his handwriting again. He ran a small factory from this office and had earned a reputation for accuracy among those whose businesses rested on accuracy.

  What was that Ortega said an architect told him? That Khan worked with wood yet worried over dimensions as if he was working with metal. Raveneau was turning that in his head when Ortega walked in.

  ‘Gibbs is back with coffee and something to eat. Come take a break.’

  Raveneau checked his messages. He thanked Gibbs for the coffee and then walked down to the steel racks at the far end of the building that held Khan’s stored inventory. Different types of wood were on different racks. The larch ply Drury delivered was on stickers on the floor.

  From behind him, Ortega said, ‘We confirmed he needed this plywood for a cabinet project here in the city. It’s on the plans he was working from and I talked to the architect and the contractor.’

  Raveneau turned to him. ‘Where are you going to go with Drury?’

  ‘We’ll interview him again this week. I went back over his delivery sheet yesterday.’

  ‘What do you think about him quitting his job?’

  ‘I talked to Branson, his boss again. He told me Drury was probably going to quit anyway.’

  ‘Who quits a job nowadays?’

  ‘I will if I can’t find who killed these people. What happened here, Raveneau? What do you think and what are you doing down at this end of the building? You picked up your coffee and walked straight down here. If you see something I need to know what it is.’

  Raveneau reached out. He put a hand on Ortega’s shoulder.

  ‘I am sorry about yesterday and I know what pressure you’re under. I didn’t walk down here because I had any new ideas, but I keep thinking about the delivery, the tight window and that the employees were all at their stations working against a deadline. I keep thinking they were shot by someone who knew where they would be.’

  ‘Khan knew where they would be.’

  ‘But why would he
kill his employees? More to the point, you’ve got to have a very, very good reason to want to draw all the attention a homicide like this will bring.’

  Ortega got called away and Raveneau lingered in the material storage area. He smelled fir. He touched smooth pieces of finish lumber and then looked over at the forklift. Dan Oliver, the employee who accepted the delivery set the plywood down on four inch by four inch stickers to keep the unit off the ground so a forklift could pick it up later. Then he parked the lift. The key was still in it.

  Raveneau walked back to the unit of plywood and sat down on it. He ran his fingers along one of the steel bands holding it together and took another sip of coffee. Then, he thought, why not, but finished the coffee before laying down three pieces of wood he could slide the sheets of plywood on to. Then he went looking for a band cutter. He crossed the room to where he had seen tools stored and found one.

  After cutting the two metal bands he slid the first sheet off and positioned it neatly on the wood stickers. He did the same with the next fifteen sheets, keeping the new pile exact and precise. A light sweat started on his forehead as well as the sense this was a little bit foolish. He felt the weight of each sheet now and each was four feet wide by eight feet long and three quarters of an inch thick. He rested a moment after getting through the next six sheets. That left twenty to go and he hoped Ortega didn’t walk back just yet. He didn’t really have a good explanation for why he was doing this.

  He slid two more sheets off, then slowed and stood up as he slid off the next. At first he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. He had a pretty good idea, but he wasn’t there yet. All of the remaining sheets appeared to be joined together by long screws, and the oblong metal objects sat in pockets routed into the wood, each looking shiny and deadly, each resting in a wood pocket with packing around it to keep it from moving. There were four of them and routed into pockets alongside them, four end pieces nestled in the way a wedding ring might rest in velvet.

  Raveneau touched the end of one and felt where the cap piece would screw in. Pack them with explosives and then screw on the cap piece, four casings about eighteen inches long, fat in the middle, narrowing at the nose, clean curved metal. He stared. He studied them before walking back to the saw cutting room and waving Ortega over.