Never-ending-snake Page 4

  For the next five minutes, Ella gave them a blow-by-blow accounting of the events. When she got to the part about going to check on the victims, she tried to remain cool and analytical, but her voice cracked.

  Big Ed switched off the recorder. “I want our best team on this investigation, so Special Investigator Clah will be running the show despite her personal stake in this,” he said, sitting back in his chair and looking at Ella.

  Ella nodded once, then turned slowly to make eye contact with the others. “Let’s start with motive. This wasn’t even close to a random attack. Anyone have any ideas, comments, or suggestions?”

  “How about some background on the incident, Ella?” Justine said. “You flew in with both men, and it appears that one or both of them were the intended targets. Did either mention being concerned about anything in particular, or maybe seem unusually tense?”

  Ella told them what she knew about the lawsuit Kevin had been preparing against Alan Grady and Casino Enterprises. “Kevin’s had threats he believes originated on the Rez—which explains why he wanted Adam Lonewolf to act as high-profile security for him. Unfortunately Adam’s paperwork allowing him to be armed or carry concealed through airports hadn’t been processed yet, so today, he was basically providing muscle and an extra pair of eyes. I got that from Kevin earlier in the day—but he didn’t seem to be bothered by that lack of protection.”

  “Bet the shooters didn’t know Lonewolf wasn’t carrying, though, which is why they came armed to the teeth. Do you have any idea on the nature of the threats against Tolino?” Blalock asked.

  “They’ve been in the form of calls, unsigned letters, and hostile e-mails as far as I know,” Ella answered.

  “The outcome of Tolino’s lawsuit could impact a large number of casino employees,” Benny said. “If Casino Management Enterprises loses their contract and the place is forced to close down for a while, a lot of people are going to lose their paychecks.”

  “I’ve got cousins who work there, and they say that Tolino’s on a witch hunt, trying to micro-manage business operations for political reasons,” Neskahi said. “So what if Grady and his company are both raking in the cash? The general consensus is that since the tribe’s making money, too, and the casino offers the Diné good jobs with benefits, why risk the entire operation? I understand that several council members are asking for a slow down on this legal action, too. They want to work it out behind closed doors, not in the press or the courtroom.”

  “Double billing and phony invoices hurt the tribe. They’re stealing from all of us,” Justine said. “It’s fraud, plain and simple. A casino run by thieves is a black mark on the entire tribe.”

  “Maybe so,” Benny said, “but some people think that the real issue has political overtones, and the pressure to take down Grady and his people is coming from tribal members who want to shut down all gambling on the Rez.”

  “What does any of this have to do with Lonewolf?” Blalock asked. “Besides working security for Tolino, how does he fit into this?”

  “As far as I know, that’s the extent of it,” Ella said. “But we shouldn’t assume anything at this point. For all we know, Adam could have been the real target of the attack. Come to think of it, Adam did seem a little tense the closer we got to home. I assumed that he was getting impatient and wanting to land so he could see his family, but I may have misread that.”

  “Walk very carefully here, Shorty. If you start digging into Lonewolf’s activities, you’re going to piss off a lot of people,” Big Ed said. “He’s the tribe’s favorite son—and not without reason. If people think you’re trying to smear a fallen hero, they’ll turn on you, and any cooperation you may have hoped to get will dry up instantly.”

  “I realize that, and we’ll try to be tactful, but it’s got to be done,” Ella said, then glanced at Justine. “What were you able to get from the crime scene?”

  Justine reached for her small notebook and flipped it open. “These are preliminary findings,” she warned, then continued. “The grenade components we found are from a military surplus smoker available over the Internet—and there’s no way to trace it, unfortunately. We found fifty-one .223 shell casings, plus the nine millimeter brass that came from your weapon, Ella. They must have pocketed their empty magazines because we couldn’t find any.”

  “They had two magazines taped together. All they had to do was flip them over. A quick tactical reload,” Ella said, remembering.

  “That explains it,” Justine answered. “We’ve also tagged all the hits we could find from the assault weapons. There are several in the airplane hatch, the door to the luggage compartment or whatever you call it, and some ricocheted off the landing gear, blowing out one tire. The aircraft appears to be fully functional once the tire is replaced, but there are two mechanics still looking it over. We’ve got tire tread impressions from the suspects’ vehicle where they ran off the asphalt, and what we think is fabric from one of the gray coveralls the men wore. It’s not Kevlar, or any other material used in ballistic vests—just heavy cotton. The blood splatter and pools have been typed and preliminaries suggest that it’s from the four victims—you included. If the shooters were hit, we have no evidence of it.”

  “Adam came out of the plane carrying a brown leather briefcase,” Ella said. “Where is it now, the evidence room?”

  “It’s in the lab. A round penetrated it and there’s no exit hole, so the slug must still be inside. I haven’t had time to open the briefcase and recover the bullet. Hopefully we’ll get something we can use for a ballistics match. I also have the items that were in Tolino’s and Lonewolf’s possession when they were attacked. In addition to regular chewing gum, bus tokens, ink pens and such, there are wallets, keys, and a BlackBerry each.”

  “We need to check all their incoming calls to see if either of them received any threats that could point us to a suspect. They might have also made some notes that could give us a lead. Let’s go sort through all that before we assign areas of investigation,” Ella said. Just as she stood, Big Ed’s phone rang.

  As he answered, they waited, but he soon waved for them to continue without him.

  Justine’s small lab wasn’t much larger than a walk-in freezer. As they all crowded into the room, Ella smiled, thinking of the huge, glass-walled sets on the crime lab series everyone was watching on TV these days. The one here looked like a miniature science class—without the students—and most of their equipment was on one large counter.

  As all five of them gathered around the centrally located black-topped lab table, Justine put on a pair of latex gloves and examined the leather briefcase. A small bump was visible on the side opposite the bullet hole, and she felt it with her fingertip. “Here’s the bullet, I think. Whatever’s inside must have really slowed it down—maybe a really thick book.”

  Using a scalpel, she cut a circle into the leather, exposing the copper-jacketed bullet, which was almost intact. “Full metal jacket—military surplus. Cheap and hard to trace.” Justine pried the bullet out gently with her fingers then, taking the evidence bag from Ella, placed the slug inside.

  “Now let’s find out what in the briefcase slowed down a high velocity round like that,” Ella said. “I remember Adam telling me that he was bringing home some papers and a game for his nephew, but he must have had something a lot thicker than that inside.”

  “Want me to pick the lock? I don’t have a key,” Justine said. “I went through Adam’s things—the ones the EMTs signed over to me—but I didn’t find one there.”

  “Are you saying that he had a locked briefcase but no key? That doesn’t make sense,” Blalock said.

  “Did he have a key chain?” Ella asked.

  “No,” Justine answered, producing the evidence bags containing all of Lonewolf’s personal effects.

  “What else did he have on him?” Ella asked.

  Justine placed two more large, thick paper evidence bags before her. “The hospital stripped off his clothing and plac
ed everything in here for us, according to protocol.”

  “Maybe Adam lost the key,” Blalock suggested.

  Ella shook her head. “Not likely. He struck me as a man who paid particular attention to details. In that same spirit, he may not have carried the key in a key chain, making it easy for anyone who might break into his hotel room, for example. But he would have been smart enough to keep it handy in case airport security asked him to open his briefcase.”

  “So you’re thinking he kept it . . . where?” Justine asked.

  Ella considered it as she studied the evidence bag with Adam’s personal effects. One contained his BlackBerry, which had been damaged, his wallet, his tickets, and a matchbook.

  Putting on a pair of gloves, Ella walked to a small closet where the bloody clothes were hung to dry before being stored. As she searched his pants, she discovered a small, deep change pocket on the right. “I’ve got it. It’s in here.”

  Moments later Justine opened the briefcase. The bullet had passed through a folder labeled “Tribal Industries” that held about fifty sheets of paper, then through both sides of a special edition boxed Monopoly game. From there it had continued through to the opposite wooden panel and pushed into the leather skin.

  “I can’t see anything in this briefcase that could have slowed it down that much,” Ella said.

  “Maybe the round was defective,” Justine said.

  “An assault rifle of that caliber will penetrate most ballistic vests well beyond a hundred yards, and this was just a little wood and paper. The airport shooting took place at a distance of what—a hundred feet or less?” Blalock asked.

  Ella nodded. “That’s about right.”

  Justine picked up the Monopoly box, still in the shrink-wrap. “I remember these as being longer. This is nearly square. And it sure feels heavy for being a kid’s board game.”

  “Maybe the playing board is metal, not cardboard. That would make it a special edition,” Neskahi said, taking it from Justine and studying it. “I don’t see a store label or price tag,” he noted.

  “Open it up so we can take a look,” Ella said.

  Using a pocketknife, Justine sliced open the wrapping and opened the box. Suddenly the room grew silent.

  “This isn’t play money,” Ella said, studying the large stacks of hundred-dollar bills that were banded together with wide rubber bands. The bullet had passed through several of the tightly packed bundles—and a thick plastic game board folded and hinged in the middle. “Now we know what slowed the slug down to zero.”

  Ella pulled one of the bills out from a stack that had been untouched and held it up to the light. A moment later, she set it back down on the table. “I’ve seen top-grade counterfeit money before, but this looks like the real thing.”

  “Hold it up for me, Ella,” Blalock asked. “You’ve got the gloves on.”

  She held it up to the light, giving FB-Eyes a closer look.

  He studied it then finally nodded. “It’s got all the anti-counterfeiting features—buried strips, special dyes, hidden faces—the whole nine yards. It’s the real deal.”

  Neskahi whistled low. “How much do you think is here?”

  “I have no idea,” Ella said. “I’ve never been so close to this much cash.”

  “Me neither,” Blalock admitted. “What strikes me is how skillfully this was disguised. The game cards, player pieces, and board are still in their original box. Almost everyone knows this particular game has lots of stacks of play money, so a casual look by an x-ray screener wouldn’t have raised any questions, particularly because the box has been rewrapped with stretch film to make it look like the factory seal.”

  “But why would Adam have been carrying this much money?” Ella asked, thinking out loud.

  Blalock stared at the bills, lost in thought. “He’s a tribal lobbyist, right? Maybe this is bribe money for his government contacts. I don’t see any logic in Lonewolf being paid off. The kickback money usually goes in the other direction.”

  “Following your premise, then why was he carrying it back to the Rez? That cash should have stayed in D.C.,” Justine said.

  Ella stared at the stacks of money. “Maybe this came from Casino Enterprises’ home office. It could be part of a deal to pay back the money they took from the tribe and squash the lawsuit Kevin’s throwing at them.”

  “This could also be the war hero’s savings—cashed out,” Neskahi suggested. “He might have been planning to make a down payment on, say, a condo in D.C., then changed his mind.”

  “A sergeant in the armed services with that much cash lying around?” Blalock shook his head. “Not likely—unless he had another business on the side. Of course soldiers sometimes bring back stuff from overseas and resell it here—legal or not. He could have been dealing anything from collector’s items to drugs.”

  “The very existence of this much untraceable money sends out warning signals,” Benny said. “Most legal businesses handle transactions through electronic transfers or checks, not with cash.”

  “Whatever the case, someone sure went to a lot of trouble buying the game, opening it, switching out the play money, then carefully resealing the whole thing,” Ella said. “Adam told me he’d bought the game for his nephew.”

  “Either Lonewolf didn’t know about the stash and was being played by someone who was using him as a courier, or he lied to you. Maybe this is what the shooters were after,” Blalock said.

  “No, I don’t agree with that. It would have been a lot simpler for the perps with the assault rifles to demand the money up front instead of opening fire,” Ella said. “Their only interest was in their targets. As soon as Kevin and Adam went down hard, their job was done and they took off. That’s my definition of a hit.”

  “Any idea when can we talk to Tolino?” Blalock asked.

  “I don’t know. The hospital will call me when he’s conscious,” Ella said. “What we could do right now is talk to Kevin’s boss, Robert Buck. He might be able to help us rule out or establish the casino payoff possibility.”

  “Buck, he’s what . . . the equivalent of the attorney general for the tribe?” Blalock asked.

  Ella nodded.

  “It’s Sunday so he’s not going to be at the office,” Justine said, then going to her computer, found Robert Buck’s address in the tribal government database and wrote it down. “Here you go,” she said, handing the paper to Ella. “He lives just north of Twin Lakes, not far from the turnoff to Coyote Canyon. About an eighty-minute drive one way.”

  “Good thing my house is on the way,” Ella said. “I’ll stop there long enough to shower and change. I’ve still got blood on me, and my shirt’s full of holes.” She glanced at Justine and added, “I’ll bag it all for you and bring it in.”

  Ella looked around at the other members of her team. “Justine will take care of the lab work. Benny and Joe, start interviewing everyone in the community who might have seen that van, working from the airstrip out. The shooters were probably waiting in the area, maybe at a fast food place or beside the highway, then moved in when they spotted the aircraft circling. Their timing was precise. They also had to know we were coming in on that flight so, Benny, find out who knew Tolino and Lonewolf were scheduled to land this morning. Joe, I want you to talk to those who knew Lonewolf and see what other things he had going on in his life.”

  “In D.C., too?” Neskahi asked.

  “Yeah. You can do that part of it by phone,” Ella said. “Also interview people who knew or worked with Kevin here and over there. Benny, one last thing. Check on Alan Grady’s alibi. We’ll need to know where he was during the time of the incident.”

  Benny nodded. “I’ll try to get the names of Grady’s closest associates, too. If he was one of the gunmen, he wasn’t alone. But this’ll take a while to put together.”

  “We need more manpower,” Neskahi said, turning as Big Ed appeared at the lab’s door. The chief nodded for the sergeant to continue.

  “Those imm
ediate interviews and alibi checks are going to take time, and we may have to track down locals who saw something—like business employees whose shifts have ended,” Neskahi added.

  “Feel free to pull in Officer Marianna Talk for legwork,” Big Ed said. “If you still need more hands, Shorty, come talk to me. I just took another call from headquarters at Window Rock. You’re to have all the help you need.”

  “I’ll get Marianna then,” Ella said.

  “I’ll arrange for Bureau agents in D.C. to look into any possible connection between the crime and the work that Tolino and Lonewolf were doing in and around the capital,” Blalock said.

  “There’s something else I’m going to need.” Ella showed Big Ed the money Adam had been carrying, and described how they’d found it. When she repeated what Adam had told her about the game being for his nephew, Big Ed’s eyebrows went up.

  “Do whatever you need to keep this from hitting the fan,” he said.

  “I need to get all the details behind Kevin’s lawsuit against casino management,” Ella said. “I’m planning to talk to Robert Buck about it, but I don’t think he’s going to give me a straight answer.”

  “You’re right about that,” Big Ed said. “In my experience, attorneys play things like this very close to their chests, and Robert Buck is an old defense lawyer. But give me a little time and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I appreciate the help, Chief,” Ella said.

  As Ella left the building with Blalock some time later, she lapsed into an uneasy silence.

  “What’s eating at you, Clah?” Blalock asked at last.

  “Every police officer is warned repeatedly that complacency always carries a high price. When the plane landed I was really looking forward to spending some quiet time with my family, and business was the last thing on my mind. I let down my guard, Dwayne, and that was precisely when everything went crazy.”

  “It happens that way sometimes. Don’t start blaming yourself. You couldn’t have anticipated what happened.”