“Let’s take a drive together and get some breakfast. You look like you need some food.”
They drove up the river to Freeport, and Raburn put away sliced ham, three eggs, potatoes, and coffee. He asked for another order of toast and concentrated on the food, head down, eyes out the window whenever he looked up. Something about the shooting didn’t fit. Raburn’s answers were too dodgy. The accusatory tone, how Fish and Game had entrapped him, had a staged air to it.
“You can arrest me, but I’m going to tell the jury I did everything I could to help and finally got scared.”
“That sounds like your lawyer talking.”
“I’ve done everything you asked. You can’t ask me to risk my life.”
They weren’t offering him any protection, and the DA would roll her eyes and say, look, he’s done enough, we’re not bringing any case against him. They’d plea-bargain something, and Raburn would get a slap on the wrist.
“So you think shooting up your boat was a message from Ludovna?”
“I already said that.”
Marquez handed the waitress a twenty and looked at Raburn again, caught Raburn studying his face.
“One problem with all this is you haven’t given us what we need to take Ludovna down. You say you don’t have records of sales.”
Raburn was scornful. “No one keeps records. Who’s that stupid?”
Marquez drove him back to his brother’s, and Raburn didn’t say a word during the ride. He got out of the Scout.
“Don’t shut the door yet,” Marquez said. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll give you a day to think about everything. You’re hungover, you were up all night, and like you said, anyone would be scared. Think it over. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“I’ve already thought it over. If you want to bust me, go ahead. I know someone else who disappeared, and it isn’t going to happen to me. I got warned last night, and I don’t need to be told twice.”
“Who do you know that disappeared?”
He could see Raburn regretted having said that. He didn’t answer, let the door fall shut, and Marquez watched him go up the porch and into the house.
25
“How’d it go with Dishonest Abe?” Shauf asked.
“He says we can arrest him whenever we want.”
“Nothing would make me happier. Want me to talk to the DA this morning?”
“Why don’t you meet me in Walnut Grove and we’ll get a cup of coffee and talk about where we’re at instead.”
He got into Walnut Grove ahead of her and took a call from Ehrmann while he waited, parked on the side of the road.
“Lieutenant, Stan Ehrmann here.” Marquez picked up on the formal tone right away. “We’ve got the problem this morning I warned you about. You’ve crossed into our operations, and I’m going to back you off.”
“Where did we do that?”
“At Weisson’s Auto. How many times have you been there?”
“I’ve been in the building once, and we’ve been by the building a number of times.”
He related the events with Torp and Perry, then listened to Ehrmann.
“It’s a chop shop. What the Russians call a patsani gets a few hundred bucks to steal a car and deliver it. You’ve seen the totaled cars in the fenced-in area. Most of those totals are late-model cars that were sold cheap at auctions by insurance companies. You can make pretty good money if you have stolen cars to get the new parts from and you rebuild a cheap total. We’re looking for several individuals who periodically visit Weisson’s, and we’ll shut down their operation at the same time. We’ve been there awhile, and I don’t want anything happening that has any chance of arousing any suspicion.”
“We’ll stay away. Is that your surveillance in the unfinished three-story building off to the left?”
“Excuse me.”
“I saw something going on in that building on the third floor.”
“And why did you think it was surveillance?”
“I’ve been doing this a long time, and I saw what I thought was a reflection off glass.”
It was more than that. He’d spotted what he’d thought might be surveillance but hadn’t wanted to start asking questions yet. Chop shops weren’t unusual, and he’d figured it could be a Sacramento Police team. If by some chance he’d spotted an FBI team, it shouldn’t have happened. He listened to Ehrmann clear his throat.
“Why don’t you come to work for me, Marquez?”
“The Feds would never have me, but I think you know that. I’m sure you’ve read up on me.”
“I’d like to hear your side of it sometime.”
“My side is the leak came from somewhere inside DEA. Someone got bought, and I was lucky enough not to be home when they came around to kill everyone. Did you read about the drug killing outside Cancun, Mexico, a couple of days ago? Nine dead, two of them Federal agents, two more agents found wounded yesterday. It was a lot like that.”
“I’d still like to hear the story.” Marquez left it at that, and Ehrmann said, “I sent you more information on Torp. It’ll be at DFG headquarters by noon.”
He said, “Thanks,” and meant it. Ehrmann didn’t have to and no doubt had gotten them more than they could ever get from NCIC or WSIN, the Western States Information Network.
“What’s happening here is you’re doing your job so well we may have to stop you from running over the back end of us.”
“We won’t go near Weisson’s. We’ve got a buyer in Rio Vista. We’ll work him, and we’re getting somewhere with the Nick Ludovna I talked to you about. But I’m going to ask again, is Nikolai Ludovna part of your investigation?”
“Not at this time.”
“You’ve looked at him before?”
“We have.”
He bought coffee with Shauf, and she rode with him out Walnut Grove Road past the tractor business and the fields of young pears, past Giusti’s and out beyond tomato fields ready to be tilled under and grapevines bare with the late fall. She looked at the tomato fields and said, “I guess we can’t let Cairo see this. He’d be down on his knees, running earth through his fingers.”
They turned off the main road and then drove out to a stand of oaks, parked, and got away from the truck. They walked out to a log and sat down well away from anywhere anyone could hear them.
“Look at us,” Shauf said. “Ruax gets her house bugged so we’re not even sitting in the truck.”
This was the other thing Ehrmann had told him. They’d swept Ruax’s house and come up with bugs. That was happening now. They were seeing more counter-surveillance, and suspects had gotten smarter about cell phone use as well. They favored the stolen chip and the prepaid card.
“So where are we at this morning?” she asked. “Dishonest Abe wants out. Anna is gone. Ludovna is sitting on his toadstool, and prison bait isn’t calling you back. We’re nowhere on August even though we watched the airport handoff.”
“Crey did call me back. I’m going to meet him tonight, but the trick there is still to cut Torp and Perry out of the picture.”
“That’s what I mean, nothing is quite working. We’ve got a bunch of pieces and nothing whole. Do you think we’re birddogging for the Feds?”
“Do you want to roll it up?”
“No.”
“Does Cairo?”
“No. Neither does Roberts or Alvarez, but you’ve got to be as frustrated as everyone else.”
“It’ll come together.”
“What do you think is going on with the Feds?”
“I think they’re waiting to see if our operation turns up anything that’ll help them.”
“So we are bird-dogging for them. You think there’s a tie-in with August and what we watched come out of Weisson’s and go to him? These guys trafficking in sturgeon are also moving other stuff.”
“Good chance of that. Let’s focus on Crey the next several days and see what more we can learn from the FBI about their investigation.”
He sat with Shauf another hour, bringing up past operations as they tried to find parallels. There’d been a bear bust, a twisted guy named Ungar, it had taken them a while to figure out. The operation had gone several directions before they took Ungar down.