“Use my cell phone.” Garza slid the phone off his belt and passed it to Marlin. “The lab’s phone number’s in there if you scroll through the memory.”
Marlin stared at the phone as if it were a Rubik’s cube. “Uh…”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. You haven’t joined the age of technology yet.” Garza found the number, dialed it, and passed the phone to Marlin. Ten seconds later, Marlin had Richard Fanick on the line.
“Glad you called. I just tried you at home,” the technician said. “Got some early results for you. I pulled one set of prints off the plastic bag, then the same guy on the manila envelope, plus two other individuals. Got matches on all three. I would have had them for you late last night, but AFIS was tied up.”
Marlin pulled a small spiral notebook and a pen from his breast pocket. “No, this is fantastic. I appreciate you getting on it so fast. Tell me what you got.”
“First off, Bert Gammel. But then, you expected that. His prints were on both the plastic and the paper. I haven’t fooled around with the bills yet, but I imagine we’ll find his prints there, too. Plus probably a dozen others-people who’ve handled the bills while they were in circulation.”
“Yeah, I imagine you’re right.”
“But I’ll start on the bills shortly, mainly looking for the same prints as the three on the envelope. Anyway, sorry to get sidetracked, but print number two…” Marlin heard rustling papers at the other end of the line. “It’s…a guy named Salvatore Mameli.”
Marlin sat up a little straighter and caught Garza’s eye in the rearview. “Salvatore Mameli?” Garza leaned over the back of the seat.
Fanick continued: “Affirmative. He’s in the system from drunk driving last year. Pled it down to a public intoxication. Name ring a bell?”
“You bet it does.” Marlin said. “A very loud bell.” Suddenly, Marlin’s bribery theory was making a lot more sense. “And number three?”
“A guy who got nailed on a simple assault a couple of years ago. Looks like a bar fight.” Fanick said the name-and Marlin almost dropped the phone.
Maynard Clements.
Marlin and Garza agreed that it would be best to ride out to Salvatore Mameli’s house together in the sheriff’s car. Along the way, Marlin relayed his bribery theory and detailed his conversations with Maynard Clements.
Garza was obviously excited about the possibilities. He said, “This guy Mameli, if I remember right, was in the concrete business a couple years back. Right after he moved to town.”
“Yep, and now he’s into brush removal,” Marlin said. “I’ve seen his rigs on a couple of deer leases.”
Garza gave Marlin a strange glance. “I didn’t know that. For how long?”
“Six months, maybe a year. What are you thinking?”
Garza tilted his head to the side, as if he were trying to look at the facts from a different angle. “Emmett Slaton owns the biggest brush-removal company in the county, right? Or he used to. And now one of his competitor’s names comes up in a murder investigation. Meanwhile, Slaton is nowhere to be found.”
Marlin hadn’t even considered that fact. He had been too focused on the Gammel case. So, they threw some ideas around, trying to work Slaton into the bribery scenario. They agreed that-regardless of what Maynard Clements said-Mameli could have bribed Gammel in connection with a county project, maybe to ensure that Mameli had the lowest bid.
But they couldn’t work Slaton into the mix. It just didn’t make sense. “Maybe Mameli paid Gammel off to get the contract on some brush removal for the county,” Marlin said. “Then Slaton somehow found out and threatened to expose it all. So Mameli says, ‘What the hell, I don’t need this grief,’ and takes ’em both out.”
“But I thought Gammel handled structures, not roads. And if there was a lot of brush to be cleared, you’d think it would be for roadwork.”
“No, you’re right,” Marlin replied. “But… Maynard Clements is in charge of roadwork contracts, and his fingerprints were on the envelope, too.”
They were a mile from Mameli’s house now, so Garza stopped for a few moments on the shoulder. “Interesting, but I wouldn’t get too worked up about that yet. There could be a simple reason for Maynard handling that envelope, since he and Gammel worked in the same office. And you’d have to wonder… if Mameli bribed Clements instead of Gammel, why is Gammel the one who’s dead?”
Marlin had to admit that it weakened the theory. Then he remembered something Clements had said. “You know, Gammel and Clements could have been working a project together. He said they did that sometimes, if the project was large enough.”
“So maybe Mameli bribed both Clements and Gammel?”
“Could be.”
“Once again: Why is Clements still breathing?”
They batted it around for a few more minutes, but couldn’t come up with any possible answers. They knew that Slaton would have needed rock solid, undeniable evidence of bribery-something that would have been very difficult to come by. And even then, they wondered, would it be enough to push a man to murder?
“What kind of man is Mameli, anyway?” Garza asked.
Marlin shrugged. “No idea. Never met him until that brawl last night at the gym.”
Garza drummed on the steering wheel, thinking. “Hold on a sec.” Garza grabbed the radio mike and contacted Darrell Bridges. “Darrell, I need you to run a background check on a man for me. You’ll have to call the DPS office in Austin. Guy’s name is Salvatore Mameli. I need it ASAP.”
Garza replaced the mike and said, “Worth a shot.”
Bridges radioed back in ten minutes. Just as Richard Fanick had said, Mameli had a conviction for public intoxication. But other than that, his record was clean.
“All right, then,” Garza said, starting his cruiser. “Guess we’ll just have to go see what Mr. Mameli has to say.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The Mamelis lived in a rambling ranch-style home, built from native limestone and cedar. It reminded Marlin of his own home, but on a much larger scale. Apparently, Sal Mameli’s businesses did quite well. They parked behind a Lincoln and climbed out. Walking to the front door, Marlin could see into a window a couple of rooms down. The younger Mameli-Vinnie-was working out with weights, doing French curls, bare-chested. Kid was pretty well sculpted. Marlin made eye contact and nodded. Vinnie set the weights on the floor and glared back at Marlin. Probably still pissed about that four-wheeling ticket Marlin had given him this summer.
Garza knocked and the door was answered by a pretty Hispanic woman. She led them into a den, where Sal Mameli was stretched out on a sofa, his leg in a cast. Marlin noticed that Mameli’s eyes widened for just an instant when he saw the two officers.
“Mr. Mameli, I’m Bobby Garza, sheriff of Blanco County. And I believe you know John Marlin.”
Mameli nodded and offered a smile, which came out more as a wince. “Excuse me for not getting up. With this leg, you know…”
“No problem, sir. We were wondering if we could chat with you for a few minutes.”
“Sure, have a seat. Youse want somethin’ to drink? Coffee?”
Both men declined.
Mameli shook his head. “I guess you’re out here about Vinnie’s four-wheeling. I told dat kid to stay outta the parks, but-”
“Actually, that’s not why we’re here,” Garza interrupted. “We wanted to ask you about a couple of other things.”
Mameli gave a look of surprise, one that appeared exaggerated to Marlin. “All right,” he said tentatively. “What’s up?”
“Well, sir, we were wondering what you can tell us about Bert Gammel. Specifically, what kind of relationship you had with him.”
“Bert Gammel? Name’s familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“An employee with the Public Works Department,” Garza said evenly. “He was murdered earlier this week.”
Mameli snapped his fingers. “Dat’s right, I remember now. Poor guy. Wasn’t he shot or something? Out on a deer lease?”