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“You have to crawl under. He told me it’s taped under one of these machines.”

It didn’t take that long to find, and now Marquez tried to figure out a way to avoid touching it and contaminating the evidence. He stared at the gun and called back to Ludovna.

“I don’t see it.”

“Okay, check the next machine.”

He checked three machines and then questioned Ludovna. “When did he say this?”

“Last night.”

“Maybe he got confused.”

“He was very specific. He knew the police would find the bodies of Torp and Perry and then they would find Torp’s gun. There were two guns used, this one and Torp’s. Even before you murdered them he knew because of what I said about Sherri La Belle. She used to come to my house once a week. She’s a prostitute. I was a client, okay, and the police found her book with my name. I told this to the detective, but Crey didn’t know until I came out and saved your life last night.”

Marquez stalled. He scowled, wanted Ludovna to repeat it for the wire.

“I still don’t follow you.”

“The detective has murder warrants for Torp and Perry, okay. Then they’ll go through the van and find the gun used here. They’re not stupid. They’ll figure it out, and when they find the gun you hide on the boat, then they have both guns used here.”

“Why did Crey kill the Raburns?”

“It was about money.”

Ludovna got in his face again now. He got close when Marquez was too quiet.

“This is what you’re going to do because I tell you to and you owe me. I saved your life last night. He chained you so he could drag you with the truck if you won the fights. Then to make sure, he said he was going to run over your head and leave you. It was all because you fucked with his guys, the same as Raburn fucked with him. Look what happened to Raburn. So you owe me your life. Find the gun. I know it’s there.”

“How do you know?”

“You fuck with me and we’re going to have a real problem.” Ludovna pointed to the tilling machine the gun was under. “Check that one again. I don’t want to have to get my coat dirty.”

This time Marquez found the gun and a gas rag in the equipment shed to wrap it in. They walked back to Ludovna’s car.

“I’m going to want you to work sturgeon the same as you have. You’ll take over the boat and the shop and keep what else you have going. I’ll tell you how many pounds of roe we need a week, okay? You set it up and run it. You get 30 percent of what we make. Your job is just the sturgeon but sometimes I’ll ask you to make other deliveries for me. Sometimes you’ll take your boat out on the ocean and pick somebody up. You’ll get paid for that. I have other people I work with, but you won’t talk with them or ask them any questions. You understand?”

“It was Crey’s shop. How do I take it over?”

“I’m a partner. I have the majority, okay. In a couple of years when everything is going well no one will remember what happened last night.” He tapped his chest. “Even I will forget, but first we get everything working.” He got in his car and lowered his window. “Go put the gun on the boat. Everything will be fine.”

“Sure, everything will be great. You have a good day,” Marquez said and watched him drive off.

50

But Ludovna didn’t have a good day. Marquez got a call from him around dusk. His voice was tight, uncomfortable, perhaps sensing something deeper was wrong.

“There’s nothing on the TV,” he said. “They’re just talking about steroid baseball. Did you go to the boat?”

“Yes, and there was no problem.”

“Did the detective call you?”

“No.”

“Turn on your TV.”

“Turn my TV on?”

“Turn it on the Sacramento news.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing on about them.”

“So what, maybe this morning is all they’re going to report. Now you’re the one who needs to relax.”

“There’s something wrong.”

“What could be wrong?”

Ludovna hung up, and Marquez called Selke.

“He’s getting nervous. He’s looking for more news.”

“He’s not going to get it. The media wasn’t too wild about the whole idea. It took a call from the Feds to make it work.” He added, “They’ve started surveillance of Ludovna, and there are two special agents here with me.”

“Are you with Torp?”

“No, with Perry. Torp got out of surgery a couple of hours ago, but he’s not talking. He wants a phone and a lawyer.”

“Has anything been said to him about the Raburns?”

“Not yet. Perry’s here in an interview box, and he’s wobbling. He may rat out his friend if a deal can be structured. The Feds have looked over what I have on Sherri La Belle and agree, better to try to get a confession before anything is said about the Raburns. Get the confessions, lock them up, then the Feds can go to work on them.” Before Marquez could ask about Crey, Selke answered the question. “He’s still on the table. The bullet shattered his shoulder, and he was pretty dicey from loss of blood when they got him in here, and it turns out he’s anemic and doesn’t clot worth a shit. The bastard is trying to die on us.”

“I’m supposed to take over his business anyway.”

Selke chuckled. He’d already recounted the conversation at Raburn Orchards for Selke, but Selke surprised him now.

“There’s a better life out there than dealing with these punks. My brother has a cabin up along the Boundary Lakes in Minnesota. It gets cold, the black flies are a bitch in the summer, but it’s beautiful. A guy like you could run a sport boat and when you think about being out on the bay on those warm still nights in the fall and the moon rising, a scotch in your hand instead of trailing these lowlifes.” He sighed, exhaling into the phone. “What they did to her with a knife I just can’t believe, and if Torp and Perry weren’t stupid we wouldn’t be catching them, but I tell you, I’m tired of this. I talk to my brother, he’s up there fishing, he’s happy. Anyway, I’ll call you as it changes here. FBI got to you yet?”

“They’re on their way.”

Marquez sat in the front room of his house with two FBI agents. The gun he’d placed on Crey’s boat had been recovered, and they had more than enough to take Ludovna down, but without saying so directly, they indicated that the Bureau was waiting for something more. They were somber and quiet and watched as Maria came in the door and had an awkward but friendly exchange with her mother. Then Maria and Katherine drove down to Mill Valley to do some shopping after Marquez explained he’d have to talk to the agents alone.

It was dark now and cooling down in the room. Marquez turned on another lamp, asked the agents if they wanted anything to drink. No one wanted coffee, water, anything except to hear again Ludovna’s last instructions.

“He said that occasionally I’d have to take the boat out in the ocean and pick up a passenger.”

“How far out?”

“Didn’t say.”

“How are these passengers supposed to get onto the boat?”

“That one sentence was all he said, but I had the impression Crey had made similar trips. He thinks Crey is dead, and I’ll step into Crey’s shoes and do whatever Crey did for him. Ludovna put the money up for Crey to buy Beaudry’s business, and it’s understood that I’m assuming Crey’s debt. He made it clear he’s got the leverage of being a witness to the murders.”

One of the agents spoke now. “He ought to be worried you’re going to take him out.”

“He made it clear he’s got other partners, and he seems to think it’s all going to be worth it for me and that I’ll like the deal once I get dialed in.”

“Is that what he called them? His partners?”

“Yeah.”

The agents on the couch glanced at each other. Marquez looked from one to the other. The Feds hadn’t said anything about what they’d found or not found at Weisson’s. If they’d found sturgeon or caviar, no one had told him. Nothing had been in the news, other than Karsov was a known arms trafficker and there were national security issues.