by Brad Smith
‘I’ll run ’em off.’
Chino drained his beer. ‘I’m heading out in the morning. Come back then and you can burn that copper off. I’ll tell you where to take it and call ahead so they know you’re cool. OK?’
When Digger was gone Chino went inside and opened another beer. He turned on the TV and lay out on the couch, flipping through the channels. He settled on a show where two guys in cowboy hats drove through the countryside in a Volkswagen van, looking for antiques.
Chino looked at his watch. Vanhizen had said within the hour and it was nearly that now. Chino didn’t think the farmer could drive to the city and go through whatever paperwork a bank would make him go through to withdraw twenty-five grand and be back in an hour. Which meant he had the money at home. He’d probably withdrawn it earlier that day, before his lawyer had started harping on at him about title searches and all that shit. Chino wished there was a way that he actually could rip the snotty fucker off for the twenty-five. It would be pretty hard to do though, unless he could pack up the three acres and take it with him.
Thinking about it, he needed to decide if there was going to be any way to get the rest of the money from Vanhizen if the cops happened to issue a warrant for Chino. He would have to leave the country if that happened, which meant he’d probably never see the other eighty-five thousand. Maybe he could use Digger to collect it. He doubted it. Digger wouldn’t be capable of it and even if he was, he couldn’t be trusted.
Maybe Bug would keep his mouth shut and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Chino didn’t have a lot of faith in that either. Bug might be keeping mum for now, but Chino didn’t see that happening long term. Sooner or later, he’d spill. Even if he managed to get acquitted, he’d get stoned and tell somebody, somewhere down the road.
The show was ending when he heard Vanhizen pull into the yard, the truck tires crunching on the gravel drive. As Chino started to rise, though, he heard another vehicle, and then what seemed like another. Maybe half a dozen in all.
He didn’t need to go to the window to see who it was.
Carl picked up Rufus Canfield at his office at seven o’clock and the two of them drove into the Rose City police station together. Both Dunbar and Pulford were waiting by the front desk. Rufus and Dunbar were acquainted; Carl introduced the lawyer to Pulford and they all went downstairs.
The two men were in separate rooms, behind one way glass. The young Indian was sitting at a table, staring straight ahead, not moving. He wore a jean jacket and brown work pants. His hands on the table were clean but there was grease beneath the fingernails. A mechanic’s hands. Carl looked at him and shook his head. After all, he had never seen the man’s face that night. If this was the man.
‘Nothing?’ Dunbar asked. ‘Height or build?’
‘Ballpark,’ Carl said, shrugging.
They walked along the corridor to the next room. Inside Chino was pacing.
‘That’s him,’ Carl said, his voice tight, his pulse rising.
‘Are you certain?’ Pulford asked.
‘That’s him.’
They went into a different room after that where Dunbar showed Carl a revolver they had seized at Chino’s house. It was a thirty-eight caliber Smith & Wesson that had seen better days. Carl couldn’t say for certain that it was the gun Chino had been waving around that night.
‘I suspect it is,’ Dunbar said.
The four of them went for coffee at a diner down the block. There was coffee at the station but it wasn’t good, Dunbar said.
‘How did you get the names?’ Carl asked. ‘Murdock?’
‘Murdock isn’t saying anything,’ Pulford said.
‘Then how?’
‘Somebody talked,’ Dunbar said.
‘Who? Somebody who was involved?’
‘No. Somebody who wasn’t.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ Carl asked.
‘Yeah,’ Dunbar said. ‘But I can’t tell you who it was.’
‘If they weren’t involved, then I don’t care who it was,’ Carl said. ‘What are these two saying?’
‘Nothing so far,’ Pulford said. ‘But we just pulled them in a couple of hours ago. Stanley Carter – known as Chino – is a habitual. The Native kid doesn’t have a record but he’s known to police. Carjacker who’s never been convicted.’
‘The young man goes from stealing cars to home invasion?’ Rufus asked.
‘Apparently,’ Pulford said.
‘Do we have any idea what was behind this?’ Rufus asked.
‘We know a little bit,’ Dunbar said. He looked at Carl. ‘These guys had incurred a debt to some people and it looks as if they were desperate for money. Why they decided they could get it at your farm is something we don’t know.’
‘You’re saying it was random?’ Rufus persisted.
‘We don’t know that,’ Pulford interjected.
‘What’s that mean?’ Carl asked. He’d been mostly quiet since leaving the station. He kept seeing Chino’s face before him. He could see the man’s hands on Frances’s throat. Over the past weeks his image had begun to fade in Carl’s mind, but now it was back in spades.
‘We’re just trying to figure out who these guys are,’ Pulford said. ‘At this point we don’t know what was behind them choosing the farm.’ She looked at Carl. ‘You’ve never seen any of the three before that night?’
Carl shook his head, watching her carefully. He always felt that Pulford was suggesting something without ever getting to it.
‘Is there any chance one of them could have worked on the farm in the past?’ Pulford asked.
‘Not since I’ve been there,’ Carl said.
‘But you’ve only been there a few years, right?’ Pulford persisted. ‘What about before you got there?’
‘How would I know the answer to that? That’s a question for Frances.’
‘Unfortunately we can’t ask Frances.’
‘You can when she wakes up,’ Carl said sharply.
At that Pulford glanced toward Dunbar. Nobody spoke for a few moments.
‘What does it matter why they picked the farm?’ Carl asked. ‘These are the guys. I can ID two of them. Why does the rest matter?’
‘We would like to establish motive,’ Pulford said. ‘For the trial.’
‘The money is the motive,’ Rufus reminded her.
‘You’re right,’ Dunbar said.
Pulford tapped her finger on the table. ‘But if we can show why they chose the farm, we can use that as proof that they were there.’
‘I can prove they were there,’ Carl told her.
‘I realize that,’ she said. ‘But in a case like this we can’t have too much evidence.’
‘You’re assuming that none of these individuals will talk?’ Rufus asked.
‘It’s too early to say,’ Dunbar said. ‘Those two you just had a look at haven’t even been indicted yet. With the murder charge hanging over them, there’s a good chance one of the three will want to talk before we get anywhere close to going to trial.’ He paused. ‘Taylor might be the key. You said he seemed reluctant to be there?’
‘Yeah,’ Carl said.
‘Let’s see how it plays out,’ Dunbar said. ‘He’s got a wife and kid. It could be he’ll want to deal, once this all sinks in.’
‘I can see what you mean about detective Pulford,’ Rufus said. They were sitting at the bar in Archer’s, eating chicken wings and splitting a pitcher of beer.
‘What’s your take on it?’ Carl asked.
Rufus skinned the meat from a wing with his teeth and dropped the bone into a wooden bowl to the side. ‘She wants a motive to show to a jury. Something other than just money. She’s trying to make sense of a senseless crime, at least to the twelve people in that box. Keep in mind they have no physical evidence. Fingerprints, DNA, none of that. They want to be able to tell a jury not just who did it, but why.’
‘What if there is no why?’ Carl asked. ‘What if it was completely random?’
&nb
sp; ‘Then they have your testimony.’
‘Isn’t that all they need?’
Rufus wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and reached for his beer. ‘One would think so. An eyewitness is a powerful thing.’
‘Two eyewitnesses,’ Carl said.
‘Two?’
‘This thing won’t go to trial for months,’ Carl said. ‘By that time, Frances will be awake.’
TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Do you have any money?’ Walker asked.
Chino looked across the table at the lawyer. He said he’d just come from court, and he looked it. Pinstripe suit, hair combed perfectly with some sort of gel to hold it, the smell of cologne on him. He’d been joking with the guards when they brought Chino up from the common area on the first floor where he’d been pacing for hours, waiting for the man to show.
‘No,’ Chino said.
‘Then what do you want with me?’
‘I hear you do legal aid cases,’ Chino said.
‘Rarely,’ Walker told him.
‘I know you’re representing Bug Murdock on the cuff,’ Chino said.
‘Which is why I’m not looking for anything else that pays ten cents on the dollar. You sure you have no money?’
‘Nope,’ Chino said. ‘I got a small disability pension.’
‘No equity?’
Chino shook his head.
‘Is that true?’ Walker asked. ‘Because I’ve heard you own some property.’
‘Bug’s got a big mouth.’
‘If Bug had a big mouth they would have arrested you a week ago. I saw the indictments that are coming down. I’m not taking you on for nothing, sport.’
He got to his feet and started to walk away.
‘Hold on,’ Chino said.
‘What?’
‘You figure on getting Bug off?’ Chino asked. ‘Well, if he walks I walk. And the other way around.’
‘The other way around? What does that mean?’
Chino shrugged.
Walker came back. ‘Are you saying that you’ll roll over on Murdock if I don’t play ball? That can be a two way street. You know what I mean?’
Chino still said nothing. Walker regarded him for a moment, his petulant attitude.
‘Now you’re going to pout?’ Walker said. ‘OK, I’ll make it simple for you. If you want for you and Mr Murdock to be a package deal, you’d better show me some money. You heard what I said – I have one fucking charity case on my hands and I’m not taking on another. So if you’re interested in this, say so now. I’m not driving out here again at your request.’
Chino looked at the guards behind the glass. One of them was showing the others something on his cell phone, a picture or a message or something. Like a bunch of fucking teenagers. They were knocking down eighty grand a year to play with their phones. And Chino was stuck there, a few feet away, with no choices.
‘What do you want up front?’ he asked.
‘Ten thousand to start.’
Chino had actually been thinking it would be more than that. ‘All right,’ he said after a minute. ‘My place is two-three-five Featherstone Road, outside Buckley. You need to talk to my neighbor, a guy named Leonard Vanhizen. He’s holding twenty-five grand for me as a down payment for my property. There’s a receipt made out in his name on my kitchen table, unless the cops took it when they ransacked the fucking place, which I assume they did. There might be a fat guy named Digger Bagley hanging around. He’s nobody. Talk to Vanhizen, he owns the farm to the east. He’ll probably want to get his lawyer in on it, he’s afraid to take a shit without his lawyer being there.’
Walker took a small notebook from his pocket and wrote down the address. ‘This Vanhizen is buying your place?’
‘Yeah,’ Chino said. ‘So you take that twenty-five and do whatever legal shit you need to do to hold it for me. Take your ten grand out of it. I guess I might as well hire you to collect the rest in thirty days too. There’s another eighty-five coming and I’m hoping to use that for bail.’
Walker smiled. ‘Let’s take it one step at a time. The ten thousand might get you through the discovery and preliminary. We don’t know exactly what you’re being charged with yet. If the charges are the same as Murdock’s you can forget about bail, unless you plan to add a zero to that eighty-five number.’
‘I want a bail hearing,’ Chino said.
‘You’ll get a hearing,’ Walker told him. ‘Might be all you get. This is premature. We need to find out what the prosecution has.’
‘They got fuck all.’
‘They’ve got something or you wouldn’t be sitting here. Story is there’s an eyewitness.’
‘Bullshit,’ Chino said.
‘You’re telling me they don’t?’
‘I’m telling you they got fuck all.’
Walker looked at his watch before glancing toward the guards. ‘You never heard this from me,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘But I suggest that you and Mr Murdock tell the same story from here on in. Precisely the same story. If you guys weren’t there, then you guys weren’t there.’
Chino nodded.
‘All right,’ Walker said. ‘I’m going to track down this Vanhizen character and see if you’re telling me the truth about the money. If you are, then I’ll see you at the indictment. If you’re not, I’ll see you at the trial. You and whatever lawyer you manage to hire.’
‘Why would I lie?’ Chino said.
‘Look where you are,’ Walker told him, and left.
Billy sat on the floor of the common room, his back to the wall, and watched as Chino returned. He’d been led out half an hour earlier. Billy had seen him that morning, talking to a guard about something before writing out a request on a sheet of paper. From then until the time they had come for him he had paced constantly, never stopping.
Now he came into the common area and headed straight for Bug, who was playing cards with three other inmates at a table in the middle of the room. Chino gave Bug a look and Bug finished the hand and quit the game. The two of them began to walk and talk.
The cops had grabbed Billy the day before. It was late afternoon and he’d taken Seth for a walk through the woods and down to the park by the river. It had been cold but he’d bundled the boy up in jeans and a hoodie, Superman mittens on his hands. They had sat by the broken bridge, watching for frogs in the shallow water. They saw none. It was late in the season and snow could come any day. Presumably the frogs were settling in for winter.
Billy had reluctantly shown up at the Wild Lucifer clubhouse at nine that morning ready for the border run, as he’d been instructed by Tommy Jakes. There had been a few bikers standing outside the building, smoking and talking. They seemed pretty wound up over something and when Billy asked where Tommy Jakes was he’d been told to fuck off. He was more than happy with the option and left without asking any questions. Watching the noon news, he found out about the raid the night before. Relief washed over Billy. He hoped that the raid meant that Tommy Jakes wouldn’t bother him again about making the run. On top of that, after lunch he got a call from Chum’s Service Center offering a job doing oil changes and lubes, maybe some brake work. Billy had given up on hearing from the garage. He told Cheryl the news when she came home from work and then took the boy for the hike.
When they came out of the woods and walked up to the street Billy saw the cars from half a block away. There were three cruisers and two unmarked SUVs. He would have made a run for it but he couldn’t, not with Seth there. He stopped and stood on the slope, thinking what to do, and pretty soon the cops saw him and started for him. The uniforms had their guns drawn and when they got closer they began to shout at him, telling him to get down on the ground. Seth began to cry as Billy did what he was told.
Cheryl was following the cops and she was crying too. When she tried to run to Seth, one of the plainclothes cops, a woman, grabbed her and held her back. After they searched Billy for a weapon and cuffed him and pulled him to his feet, the woman allowed Cheryl to pick
up the boy, who was sobbing, scared and confused.
‘What’s going on?’ Cheryl kept asking as the cops led Billy down the street to the cruisers.
Most of the neighbors were outside now, on their front steps or their lawns, watching the situation unfold. Billy kept his head down as he walked.
‘Tell me what’s going on!’ Cheryl shouted.
She tried to get close to Billy but the cops held her back. When they put him in the back seat of the car, he finally looked at her. He didn’t know what to say so he said nothing. Cheryl had Seth on her hip, holding him tight with both arms.
‘You’d better call someone,’ Billy heard the woman cop say as they drove off.
They had taken him into Rose City, to the station there downtown. After processing he’d been loaded into a van and driven out to Clark County Detention. By that time it was after ten o’clock and they put him in a cell with a guy about his age. It wasn’t until this morning, when he was released into the common area, that he saw that both Bug and Chino were there. Billy had heard about Bug’s arrest and in the days afterward he’d been expecting the cops to show up at his place. After a week went by and they didn’t, he began to think that maybe Bug wasn’t talking. Obviously something had changed.
He noticed the two men watching him from time to time but neither spoke to him all day. Billy was fine with that. It was speaking to them in the first place that had led to him being here. He’d been told that he would be making an appearance in the Rose City courthouse the next morning to be formally charged. He was also informed that he could make a phone call. The only lawyer Billy knew was Darren Crowder from out at the rez, and he didn’t feel like calling him at this point. Billy hadn’t had much to do with the rez lately and he knew that certain people there were going to be pissed when they heard the new allegations. Billy making the Indians look bad.
He could call Cheryl, but what was he going to tell her? This was the day he’d been dreading since the night at the farmhouse and now that it had arrived it was every bit as bad as he had imagined it would be.
He was pretty sure it would only get worse.
Carl was at the courthouse for the indictments on Billy Taylor and Stanley Carter, the one they called Chino. The charges were carbon copies of those laid against Murdock. It was the same judge and the same prosecutor, the woman named Mathews. Taylor had duty counsel for the day, and Chino was represented by the man named Walker. As Rufus had suggested, he was a bit of dandy, with a carnation in his lapel and the tendency to strut.
