Читать книгу A Delicate Matter - Don Easton - Страница 11

It was an hour and forty-five minutes later when Jack and Laura arrived in a high-speed Zodiac boat in the company of officers from the Integrated Border Enforcement Team.

Powerful spotlights cut through the darkness and illuminated the shoreline. As the boat approached the shore, Jack leaped off into the knee-deep water of the rising tide and ran toward the pathway. His calls to Dwayne went unanswered.

It was midnight by the time Corporal Connie Crane of the Integrated Homicide Investigation Team arrived on another I-BET boat, along with officers from the Forensic Science and Identification Service.

Jack took Connie aside and tersely told her the background of the situation, starting with his and Laura’s first meeting with Larry and Dwayne and ending with the details of the call he’d received from Dwayne earlier.

“I take it you’ve checked the area?” Connie asked, glancing around.

“I-BET searched the shoreline and out in the ocean while we were waiting for you. They didn’t find anything. Laura and I went to where Larry and Dwayne have a tent, but there was also nobody there. We stayed off the path so as not to contaminate the scene. Same goes for where the tent is pitched. I did look inside, but was careful not to step on any footprints — not that I saw any. The ground is matted with pine needles. There’s one thing I noticed later,” Jack said, looking forlornly back at the entrance to the path.

“What’s that?”

“Larry had a blue nylon rope tied to some cement blocks that he used for mooring his boat. The rope and the blocks are gone.”

“I’ll call the dive team out in the morning,” Connie said. “For now, I want a written statement. Word for word of the phone call you got tonight, if you can remember.”

Remember? I’ll never forget it. “Already done,” Jack replied. “It’s on the boat I arrived in.” He pointed to the I-BET Zodiac.

“Do you think you’d be able to recognize the voice of whoever yelled at Dwayne for screwing with his boat?”

“The guy wasn’t close enough to the phone. Maybe even running. With the sound of the waves … well, I’d never recognize the voice.”

“You sure?” Connie asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

Jack knew she was thinking about previous cases they’d worked where some people he investigated turned up dead. “If I could identify the voice, I’d be after you to let me listen to whatever suspects you might come up with — but I can’t.”

“How’d you and Laura know to come here the first time and look for a grow-op?”

“From another informant.” Jack swallowed some bile. Christ, I wonder if my voice sounds as acidic as my throat feels.

“Is there any way this other informant could’ve had something to do with —”

“No. He wanted the drugs to be delivered by Larry to save his own ass. He’s definitely not involved.”

“Could the Gypsy Devils have come to do a rip-off … maybe not realizing Larry had a brother?”

“Possible, but I don’t think so,” Jack replied. “The GDs would definitely rip someone off — but not Satans Wrath. They wouldn’t risk pissing those guys off.”

“Maybe Larry will have some potential suspects,” Connie suggested.

“Maybe. I’ll talk to him. Find out who else knew about this place.”

“I want to be with you when you talk to him,” Connie stated flatly.

“I expected you would.” Jack nodded. “I’ll send Laura back to the office to compile a dossier for you of all the Gypsy Devils and their known associates. While she’s doing that, you and I can notify Larry.”

“I appreciate that.” As they returned to the boats, Connie gave Jack a sideways glance. “Do you have any suspicions at all as to who did it? Even an inkling?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have been here waiting for you,” he replied coldly.

It was 6:00 a.m. when Jack and Connie identified themselves at the nurses’ station and explained they were there to do a next-of-kin notification. The nurse led them to where Larry was sleeping. Three other patients were sleeping in the room and the nurse pulled a curtain around Larry’s bed for privacy before leaving.

Jack stared at Larry, then took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before gently shaking him awake.

Larry mumbled as he awoke, then his eyes widened. “What’re you doing here? Who’s she?”

“Corporal Crane,” Jack replied. “She and I are working together at the moment.”

“Whaddaya doin’ here?”

“I’ve some bad news,” Jack said. “I think Dwayne was murdered last night by someone ripping off your stash.”

“What? No! What do you mean, you think?” Larry demanded.

Jack quietly relayed the phone call he’d received, along with the news that Dwayne could not be found and that the nylon anchor rope and cement blocks were missing.

“Maybe they took him to scare him,” Larry suggested, apparently unable to accept the reality of the situation.

“I told you that Dwayne said he was shot in the stomach,” Jack reminded him. “Then there was that other shot and he never spoke again.”

Larry squeezed his eyes tight, but that didn’t stop the tears from running down his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have left ’im out dere alone,” he said.

Jack laid a hand on his shoulder and gave a sympathetic squeeze. A moment later Larry’s face clouded with anger and he jerked back. “You took the shotgun away,” he said accusingly. “The poor boy had nothin’ to defend himself with!”

“I’m sorry, but —”

“You’re sorry?” Larry was almost yelling now. “That’s it? Me brother’s dead and you’re sorry? You said you’d protect us!”

Jack lowered his voice. “You’re angry right now. So am I. Whoever did it will be caught. That I promise,” he said adamantly.

“Like you promised to look after us and not let anything happen?” Larry snorted contemptuously.

“I understand why you’re pissed off at me and we can talk about that later, but now we need to ask you some questions.”

Larry acted like he hadn’t heard. The anger on his face changed to grief. “Aw fuck. Who am I kiddin’? It ain’t your fault. I should never’ve got him involved. It’s me who got ’im killed.”

“You were looking after your brother the best you could,” Jack said. “Sometimes the consequences of our actions are never what we expected or wanted. It wasn’t you who murdered Dwayne. You need to realize that.”

Larry stared glumly toward his feet without replying.

Connie cleared her throat. “I’m sorry we have to ask you questions at a time like this, but every second we waste helps the killer. Who else knew where the grow-op was?”

Larry ignored Connie and looked sharply at Jack. “Banjo! You think Banjo —”

“I don’t think Banjo did it,” Jack said, “but if he did, I’ll find out.”

“How? He’ll just lie to ya.”

Jack didn’t want Larry to know about the wiretap, let alone that he had an informant in Satans Wrath, so he decided to lie. “The same way I knew where your grow-op was.”

“How’d ya know?”

“You have to swear to me that you’ll never tell anyone,” Jack said.

“I swear,” Larry said solemnly.

“One of the Gypsy Devils is talking to me. I’ll soon know if they’re responsible.”

“They gotta be the ones,” Larry said decisively. “Only them knows where it is.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Could Dwayne have told someone where the grow-op is?” Connie asked.

“Nah. He don’t even know how to get to it on his own. Besides, I keeps a close eye on ’im. Ain’t no way he told anyone.” Larry looked at Jack. “Forget about trying to protect me. I’ll testify or do anything you want. I don’t care what happens to me now.”

“There is something you could help us with immediately,” Jack told him. “I want you to call Banjo. Tell him that it was you Dwayne called last night and say that you called the cops to try to save him because you’re in the hospital. Then say that Corporal Crane from Homicide came by to tell you that Dwayne couldn’t be found. Banjo will want to know what you told the police about the weed, so tell him that you said it was yours and that you planned to sell it yourself.”

“He might ask if I’m being charged,” Larry said, looking at Jack and Connie for an answer. “With having a grow-op I mean.”

Connie shook her head. “Your cooperation … and loss in this matter will ensure that you’re not charged.”

“And all my hydro equipment?” Larry asked. “Are ya takin’ dat?”

“Damn it, Larry,” Jack said. “The deal we made was for you to go straight after —”

“I intend to,” Larry protested, “but the equipment cost me a lotta money. If you don’t take it, I could sell it on eBay or somethin’.”

“Cooperate with us and I’ll let you keep it,” Connie said. “Make the call.”

Larry did as requested. When he was finished, he hung up and scowled.

“What did he say?” Jack asked.

“At first he was surprised. Then he pretended to be all sympathetic. I could tell it was an act. The fucker was more concerned about losing the weed than what happened to Dwayne. He was worried, too, about what I told the cops. Seemed okay, though, when I told ’im what you said to tell ’im.”

“Anything else?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, well I guess you heard me goin’ on ’bout how it was only his guys who knew about the grow-op an’ he better find out who did it.”

“What did he say?” asked Connie.

“Said he’d get back to me.”

“We’ll find out who did it,” Jack said. “You can’t be certain it was the Gypsy Devils. Personally I don’t think it was.”

“They’re the only ones who know about it. It has —”

“It could be that one of them told someone else,” Jack interrupted him. “It may take some time for us to find out.”

“Wish I could find out right now,” Larry said bitterly.

“We all do,” said Connie, “and believe me, we’ll do everything possible to catch the killer.”

Jack pointed his finger at Larry’s face and spoke harshly. “You leave this to us! You hear me?”

“Yeah … of course.”