Читать книгу Time of Death - Alex Barclay - Страница 17

Colin Grabien sat at his desk with print-outs of Greg Sarvas’ bank statements and a computer screen with more of Greg Sarvas’ bank statements. He had the look of a teenager forced to study for his SATs when all his friends were out to play.

Ren glanced over at him.

‘This is bullshit,’ he said.

No one responded. He looked up, annoyed.

‘What is bullshit?’ said Ren. Her voice was flat.

‘I don’t see Gregory Sarvas’ name up on that board—’ He pointed to the Most Wanted list. ‘Gartman is out murdering little deaf girls, and here I am, going through these boring bank statements. A lawyer with one and a half million dollars spread across four bank accounts. Call Ripley’s Believe It or Not.’

Grow the fuck up. ‘Nothing else?’ said Ren. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary?’ She got up and walked over to his desk.

Colin pointed to his screen and scrolled through a ridiculous amount of data. She rolled her eyes.

‘No strange payments in or out of his bank accounts,’ said Colin. ‘One property – the family home in El Paso. Mortgage of two hundred thousand dollars outstanding. No other debts. Monthly retainers from five clients, totaling eleven thousand.’

‘Ah, but one property he was more keen to get rid of than his wife suspected,’ said Robbie. ‘I’ve got his phone records here and it looks like he made several calls to real estate agents in the area.’

‘Before or after the rape?’ said Ren.

‘Both,’ said Robbie. ‘A little more so after. Ren, can I borrow a highlighter?’

‘Sure – in my drawer. Grab one. Not the pink one.’

‘I can see why Sarvas would want revenge,’ said Cliff. ‘I’d want to take my wife the hell away from there.’

‘I’m thinking you might be more honorable than a man who wouldn’t report his wife’s rape,’ said Ren.

‘Maybe it was the opposite,’ said Colin. ‘Maybe Sarvas was very honorable. And wanted some old-style vigilante revenge.’

‘Pistols at dawn,’ said Ren. ‘Yes, I thought of that.’

‘Since when do you play cards?’ said Robbie. ‘Ren has a deck of cards in her desk.’

Ren frowned. ‘The bottom drawer has the highlighters, you loser. And no, I don’t play cards.’

‘You never said the bottom drawer.’

‘That’s not the point. There could have been anything in there …’

‘I’m going to call these real estate guys,’ said Robbie.

‘What about Sarvas’ clients?’ said Ren to Cliff. ‘Did you speak with them?’ She went back over to her desk.

‘From what I can gather so far, Sarvas basically worked remotely,’ said Cliff. ‘He had twelve clients. Three of them had never even met him. They were a mix – mainly small-business owners, all in Texas. Across a range of businesses—’

Cliff looked up as Gary strode into the office and up to Ren’s desk, holding a red Sharpie out to her. She stared at him.

‘Your basket is dead,’ said Gary.

‘Exsqueeze me?’ said Ren.

Gary pointed at the gallery.

‘Erubiel Diaz?’ said Ren.

‘Yup,’ said Gary. ‘How about you put a big red X through that face?’

‘Oh my God,’ said Ren, taking the pen from him. ‘Whatwhywhenwherewhohow?’

‘His headless body was found on a burning pyre in Nogales, Mexico,’ said Gary.

‘Shit. Really?’ Ren stood up.

‘Yup.’

She paused. ‘Maybe I should wait ’til they find his head before I put the X through it.’ She walked across the room and drew an X slowly across Diaz’ face. ‘What happened?’ said Ren. ‘Was this a drugs thing? Were there other people being served at this barbecue or was he found alone?’

‘Here’s what I know,’ said Gary. ‘Diaz ended up dead as part of a message being sent to the Nogales police. Earlier that day, they arrested the second-in-command of the Puente cartel. The guy’s associates tried to spring him from the police station where he was being held, but they couldn’t. They shot six officers trying. The station went on lockdown, so the only way these assholes could come up with to get Puente out was by going on a rampage around Nogales. Not just drive-bys – decapitations, everything. They dragged the bodies behind their SUVs through the streets, dumped them in a pile. They came back and forth a couple times and lit that pile on fire.’

‘And that’s where Erubiel Diaz was found …’ said Ren.

Gary nodded.

‘How did they identify him?’ said Colin.

‘Dental records,’ said Gary.

Ren looked at him. ‘You just said he was headless.’

‘Temporarily,’ said Gary. ‘One of the Puente cartel used his severed head as a bowling ball that night. Rolled it right on to a dance floor in one of the clubs.’

‘We need to talk to Colin about this,’ said Ren, turning to him. ‘He knows what it’s like to have no body to dance with.’

Colin rolled his eyes.

‘But getting back to Diaz,’ said Ren, ‘I don’t see how dental records could’ve been any use. I saw the dude – he’d never been to a dentist in his life.’

‘Ah, but someone knocked out two of his teeth last year in Breckenridge. And Frisco Medical Center had to X-ray his mouth. The dentist there checked him out, had everything on record.’

‘So,’ said Ren, ‘was Diaz an “innocent victim” caught up in a street war, or was he part of a rival gang or the Puentes cartel or …?’

‘I’ll call the police chief in Nogales,’ said Gary.

‘If this wasn’t a coincidence,’ said Ren, ‘if someone really had wanted Diaz to disappear off the face of the earth, decaffeinating him and throwing him in with a bunch of burning bodies would be a good way to go.’

‘He could have just been wrong place/wrong time,’ said Cliff.

‘I don’t know,’ said Ren. ‘Right now, the Mexican border is permanently the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s like choosing to go to Iraq on vacation. So is it me or could Domenica Val Pando be back sniffing around what she knows best?’

‘She would need some serious connections to break back into that scene,’ said Gary.

‘Domenica is well-connected,’ said Ren. ‘And what if her H₂S project was for use along the border by a cartel? I mean, there are billions of drugs dollars at stake. What if, knowing she couldn’t grab a slice of the narcotics action by the direct route, Domenica tried a side-maneuver: offering up a weapon to the people who need it most?’

They all nodded.

‘I’d keep my eyes on the dry-ice machine in that nightclub,’ said Ren. ‘The atmosphere could actually be more toxic than an eighties theme night.’

‘Maybe Domenica could have gotten a high-enough price for the gas itself that she could hold back after she was paid,’ said Colin. ‘Then set herself up quietly when things calmed down. If they ever did …’

‘But, the H₂S plant was shut down,’ said Robbie.

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘But we’re the only ones who know that. The story that made the news was that we shut down a meth lab. All Domenica had to say to whoever her client was – assuming she already had one lined up – was that the guy working for her fucked up, so she had to kill him. And his death could be confirmed, so the story would hold up.’ She shrugged. ‘Diaz’ death right now can’t be a coincidence. I would say that somebody wasn’t happy about all the attention being drawn Diaz’ way.’

‘So,’ said Gary. ‘The breaking of the news to Diaz’ wife …’

‘Do not look at me,’ said Ren. ‘I want to meet the wife when she has a clear head. I don’t want to be there for the weeping. Or the gathering of her bambinos into her arms. I want the emotion gone. Goodbye. I want to walk right in at a later date and get some informazion.’

‘Colin, how about you?’ said Gary.

‘Hold up.’ Ren shook her head. ‘I said that I need her to get her emotion out. She won’t cry in front of him.’

‘All I seem to hear about Diaz,’ said Colin, ‘is rapist, dead-beat dad, dirtbag, blah, blah. Is his wife really going to give a shit?’

‘Maybe not,’ said Ren. ‘But the mother of his children will.’ Ren turned to Cliff. ‘How about you …? Robbie …?’ Everyone looked away.

‘Look, I don’t care,’ said Ren. ‘But I’m not doing it. I’m conserving my feminine conspiratorial thing for the real questions.’

‘What about continuity of care?’ said Gary. ‘You’re the Diaz guy.’

Ren grabbed her bag from the floor. ‘Jesus, fine, then. I’ll go. On my way home. Everyone owes me. Every last one of you.’