Hot, dusty, and windy.
They could see the TIMCO refinery spread out between the freeway and shoreline, its forest of two-hundred-foot fractionating towers operating around the clock, distilling crude oil into usable fuels and company profits.
Gage continued north after Viz pulled into a service station at the main Bethel Island intersection. He cast a glance toward False River, then hung a left along the waterfront to Karopian’s three-story, clapboard-sided home. The house was set back from a wide street paralleling the shore. A third of an acre. Mature trees. Gage was still surprised at how little a million and a half dollars had bought before the economic collapse, even in Middle of Nowhere California.
He spotted Karopian working on the thirty-five-foot Bayliner tied to his private dock extending from the grass-covered levee, and remembered thinking last time it was an awfully big boat for such a slim stretch of water.
Karopian didn’t turn until Gage’s dress shoes thunked against the metal surface of the dock. Thin, balding, a rich, end-of-season tan. A walking JCPenney window display: Izod shirt, Dockers pants, and Sperry Topsiders.
“This is private property,” Karopian said. “You need an invitation.”
“I have one, you told me to come back if I had more questions.” Gage smiled. “I guess you didn’t mean it.”
Karopian dropped his rag into the bucket at his feet, then stepped onto the transom platform and to the dock.
“On reflection,” Karopian said, “I decided I wasn’t thrilled with your attitude.”
“I apologize. A kid in my office had just been beaten up.”
Karopian’s wincing face displayed fear, like that of a man who’d just made a wrong turn into oncoming traffic.
“Be… because of what?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“I don’t beat up people.” Karopian stretched out his skinny arms as evidence.
“I didn’t think you did.”
“Then why are you out here again?”
“I came to tell you what happened in TIMCO.”
Karopian’s face darkened beneath his tan.
“I know what happened in TIMCO.”
Gage nodded. “I believe you.”
“If you believe me, then answer my question.”
“I came back because what you know and what you wrote in your report were two different things.”
A female voice yelled from behind Gage.
“Is everything all right, dear?”
Gage didn’t turn around. Karopian waved to her, putting on a boyish smile. When it faded, Gage guessed she’d returned inside the house.
“I guess you two have been married a long time,” Gage said.
“Thirty-five years.”
“It shows. She can tell when you’re about to pee in your pants.”
Karopian’s face darkened another shade.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Gage said. “I’ll tell you what happened and you just nod if I’m right.” He paused. “Even better, try to look surprised.”
Gage held his hands out like he was holding the valve.
“What happened was that somebody welded over the pressure release device and the weld didn’t hold.”
Karopian didn’t look surprised.
“I examined every fragment we recovered,” Karopian said. “I didn’t find any fresh welds.”
Gage felt his heart thump. Gotcha.
“The valve exploded right at the pressure release device,” Karopian said. “So it had to have been what failed.”
“You find all the parts?”
“You’re not listening to me. That’s what blew apart.” Karopian’s hand shot out toward the west. “For all I know the pieces flew all the way to San Pablo Bay.”
Gage stared at him without answering. Karopian looked away.
“I think you need to try to reconstruct the thing in your mind,” Gage finally said. “Maybe you’ll come to a different conclusion.” He turned, and said over his shoulder, “You’ve got my card.”
Chapter 40
Gage called Viz as he again drove along False River.
“He’s panicking,” Gage said.
“Did you tell him you knew Charlie’s Pegasus company was the source of the money that went into his house?”
Viz was parked at the service station near the phone booth Karopian had used after Gage’s first visit.
“I decided there’s no reason to let the other side know we’ve gotten that far. Anyway I didn’t need it to push him over the edge. Are you set up?”
“About fifteen yards from the phone. Where you gonna be?”
“Meet me at the fruit stand outside of Oakley.”
A half hour later, Viz drove up to where Gage was sitting at a picnic table in the shade. Gage reached into a paper bag on the bench next to him and handed Viz a Coke when he sat down.
Viz slid over an iPod.
“How’d you get it?” Gage asked.
Viz smiled. “The parabolic microphone you bought me.” He pointed at the new roof-mounted light rack on his Yukon. Black protective covers were fitted over two of the headlight-sized fixtures. One concealed the mike. “I have a little remote control in the cab.” His smile widened. “You bought that, too.”
Gage slipped in the earbuds, then pressed play. The first sound he heard was the Delta wind swirling into the phone booth, then footsteps, then the rustling of clothing, then a metallic snap, then tapping. Then a voice: Karopian’s.
“It’s me.”
…
“Gage came back. He knows what really happened.”
…
“How should I know? Maybe he… Oh shit.”
Gage gave Viz a thumbs-up. Karopian must have just remembered he’d referred to “fresh” welds. Gage hadn’t used the word, never even hinted about when he believed the pressure release had been welded over. The use of the word was Karopian’s inadvertent admission that he’d known that the corroded pressure release device had been welded over, and it had been done just before the explosion. He therefore had known it had been the new weld that had failed.
“Nothing… I just bumped my elbow.”
…
“Look Anston, I don’t know what else he knows. That’s where he left it.”
…
Another thumbs-up. Marc Anston, Brandon Meyer’s old law partner. The link Gage was looking for and the reason for his long drive out to the Delta.
“No. I didn’t tell him anything except the party line.”
…
“What’s the statute of limitations on this stuff?”
…
“Then there’s nothing he can do to us?”
…
“Slander. That’s right. It would be slander if he said something.”
…
“Yeah. I’ll let you know if he comes back.”
Gage removed the earbuds and handed the iPod back to Viz.
“Marc Anston is too smart a lawyer to think the statute of limitations has run on this,” Gage said. “Unless he’s forgotten he conspired to cover up a corporate murder.”
Chapter 41
Gage’s cell phone rang as he walked into Skeeter’s office to pick up his associates’ research on Brandon Meyer’s cases.
“I didn’t do it,” the caller said. “I’ll take a polygraph.”
Gage mouthed the name Porzolkiewski to Skeeter sitting at his conference table going over the reports.
“Didn’t do what?”
“Karopian.”
“Did what to Karopian?”
“I don’t know.” Porzolkiewski’s voice rose in exasperation and panic. “I told you I didn’t do it.”
“Back up.”
Gage heard Porzolkiewski take in a breath.
“The widow of one of the other men killed in the explosion called. She lives in out in the Delta. It was in the local paper. Karopian’s wife found him dead late last night. Lying on his dock.”
“Did the article say what happened?”
“No. They’re doing an autopsy. But they’re guessing it was a heart attack brought on by heat stroke. Out in the sun too long.”
“But you’re thinking he must’ve been murdered,” Gage said, “because you felt like murdering him yourself.”
“Not just me. There are three widows and their kids who have just as good a motive as me.”