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Clements seemed almost unaware of the men in the room, as if he were talking to himself, when he finally continued, in a whisper: “We each got twenty thousand dollars in cash. We agreed to lie low for a while, not spend any of the money, until we were sure we weren’t gonna get caught. But Bert couldn’t do it. He got cocky, started showing off with the money…buying things, like that Explorer. He’d flash the money around, acting like a big shot.”

A nurse peeked her head in the door, offered a quizzical look, and Marlin shook his head at her. The door slipped shut quietly behind her.

“Then what happened?” Garza asked gently.

“We had arguments about it. Several times. He said I was paranoid, that we were home free.” Clements’s face contorted in despair. “Then he tried to blackmail me. Said he wanted my share of the money or he’d go to the cops and tell them it was all my idea, that he had nothing to do with it. He double-crossed me.”

Clements paused again.

“I can understand your frustration, Maynard,” Garza said. “What’d you do about it?”

Clements wiped his eyes. “I shot him. I set up near his deer blind…and then I shot him.”

Garza nodded and asked Maynard if he wanted anything to drink. Maynard shook his head. Garza then asked Maynard to give him a recap of the morning he had shot Gammel, and Clements complied.

He had driven onto the Bar T Ranch-next door to the deer lease where Gammel hunted. He had picked a day when he knew the foreman at the Bar T would be out of town at a cattle auction. In the early afternoon, he found a good spot under a cedar tree. Then he waited for Bert Gammel to show up. He didn’t bring any cigarettes because of the telltale smoke-and he was trying to quit anyway. But he was so nervous he needed something. So he had chewed some tobacco. “Guess that stuff is dangerous, huh?” Clements said, no trace of humor on his face.

Garza asked a few more questions until he had the full story. Then he went back to the bribery.

“What did you receive payment for, Maynard-you and Bert? What was the money for?”

An expression of pure shame crossed Clements’s face. “To look the other way on some concrete that didn’t meet code. The builder wanted to use a lower grade and pass it off as spec. To save a bunch of money.”

“Who was the builder?” Garza prodded.

Marlin tensed. His back was aching from standing still for so long. Just a few more minutes, he told himself.

“It was Sal Mameli,” Clements said bitterly, spitting the words out.

“What about Emmett Slaton?”

Clements looked confused.

“Was he involved in any of this?” Garza asked.

“No, not Slaton. Where did you get that idea?” Clements replied. “It was just Mameli. We met at Big Joe’s for lunch one day and he gave me an envelope with forty thousand in cash. I counted it, and then gave twenty to Bert.” Clements was beginning to blubber. “And the concrete… it’s really not a big deal. It’s plenty safe-I know it is-or I wouldn’t have done it.”

“I know you wouldn’t, Maynard,” Garza said. “You’ve always been a good worker for the people of this county.”

Clements gave a small smile. “Thanks, Bobby.”

Garza shifted in his chair. “Last question, Maynard, then you can get some rest: What was Mameli building? What was the concrete for?”

When Marlin heard the answer, his knees went weak.

“The dam,” Clements said in a monotone. “The dam at Pedernales Reservoir.”

“Yeah, that’s right, Darrell,” Garza said over his cell phone. “See if you can get Corey on Wylie’s phone. If you can, tell him he’s cleared. Uh-huh, we’ve got a full confession. Then pull everybody back and see if he’ll come out.”

Marlin couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but he knew the dispatcher was having a tough time believing what his boss was saying. “No, I don’t want you to go in-under any circumstances,” Garza said firmly. “Just pull back and let him come out in his own sweet time. We clear? All right, then, I’m heading over to the Public Works Department for a few minutes and…no…no, I can’t explain right now. Goddammit, Darrell, just do what I’m asking you, okay? I’ll see you within the hour.” Garza hung up. “I swear, just getting people to follow orders around here….”

“So, what’s next with Mameli?” Marlin asked.

“I’ll call the team at Maynard’s house and see if they find the envelope where he said it would be. If we can pull Mameli’s prints off that one, too, we’ll be in good shape. We’ll take a look at Mameli’s bank accounts, see if he had any big withdrawals prior to his meeting with Maynard. Probably interview the waiters at Big Joe’s, in case one of them can verify seeing the two of them together. I’d say it looks pretty solid, though.” He glanced Marlin’s way. “Listen, this is still your case if you want it. Just tell me how much you want to be involved.”

Five minutes later, Marlin and Garza were standing in front of Toby Gardner, who was the Public Works Director, Gammel’s and Clements’s supervisor.

“Thanks for meeting us, Toby.”

“Glad to help,” Gardner said. “But I’m not sure what I’m helping with.”

Garza turned to Marlin. “You want to fill him in?”

Marlin recapped their conversation with Maynard Clements, hitting the high points but omitting any details about the murder of Bert Gammel.

Gardner stared at Marlin incredulously. “Do you believe him?” he asked. “I mean, was he loopy on painkillers or anything?”

Marlin shook his head.

Garza said, “We have no reason to think he’s lying…and plenty of reasons to think he’s telling the truth. Unfortunately, I can’t go into them all right now. It involves a case, and I’m not at liberty to-”

Gardner held up his hands. “Say no more. If you tell me it’s true, then as far as I’m concerned, it’s true.”

“The question, then,” Marlin said, “is, can we believe Clements? Is the dam a threat or not?”

Gardner frowned. “If that concrete’s not up to code, I’d say we’ve got a big problem on our hands. See, these codes aren’t arbitrary. Certain grades of concrete can withstand higher pressures, and-”

“No offense,” Garza interrupted, “but you don’t need to explain it to us, Toby. Just tell us what we need to do next.”

Both men stared at Gardner, who stared back. “Oh, I don’t think there’s any question about that,” Gardner stated flatly. “We’ve got to empty the reservoir.”

Sal Mameli was drinking scotch, watching the evening news and waiting for Maria to serve dinner-but his thoughts were wandering. Once again, he was daydreaming of a tropical island-now more than ever-but he sure as shit didn’t like the dark clouds looming on the horizon. There wasn’t any goddamn sunshine in his life right now, that was for certain.

Everything should have been so easy.

Buy out Emmett Slaton, get every goddamn brush-cutting contract from here to Houston, then grab every last dime and get the fuck out. Screw the clients. Screw the creditors. But no, Slaton had to be a hard-ass, giving Sal no choice but to take him out. And this tree-hugging duo from who-the-fuck-knows-where. It was like they were sent here as a practical joke by some jamook, just to give him a major pain in the balls. At least the little leg-breaking bastard was out of the picture, on the run from the law. But the broad…she was still hanging around town, according to Vinnie. Sal had told Vinnie to give her a good scare-an I’ll kill all your loved ones kind of scare, the type that makes people leave town in the middle of the night. Apparently, she didn’t scare that easy. Sal had asked Vinnie about her this morning, and Vinnie had said, She’s a tough bitch, Pop. I’m still working on it.

Sal hadn’t liked the way that sounded. But, truth be told, that broad was on the back burner now, ever since this afternoon. He had more important things to do, like keeping a lid on this Slaton thing. He had to laugh, really. A shitstorm had hit Blanco County, but he had managed to keep his own dirty laundry buried. So far, anyway. He didn’t like those two cops-well, that cop and that game warden-coming to his house. What was their problem, anyway? Sal’s fingerprints on an envelope? Get the fuck out of here with that-that’s what any decent attorney would say. It proves nothing. But it was Sal’s piss-poor luck that Gammel had gone and gotten himself whacked, and that the cops had had to come nosing around about it. Yeah, so maybe he had bribed Bert Gammel, but Sal was in the clear on the murder beef. He’d had nothing to do with that. But the big question was, after the cops had asked him about Bert Gammel, why in the fuck did they bring up Emmett Slaton? That was the one thing that made Sal nervous. It didn’t make sense.