"No," Carlos answered.
"He understands that you had no choice in the matter."
"You'll need a driver for the van," Nick said hopefully "I can't take you with me. Nick," Carlos said with a smile as he led Palazzi through the back door to the old stone warehouse at the rear of the Little Turtle.
"You killed a gringo cop. You have to stay in Mexico. Just tell me where I need to go, and enjoy yourself with your chic ha He closed the soundproof door and walked Nick to the loading dock.
"The van is parked at a Wal-Mart in Silver City, on the side of the building," Nick said.
"And the body?"
"In the Black Range on State Road 152 there's a big sign that says Emory Pass. You can't miss it. Walk straight behind the sign about a hundred yards. I stashed the body there and covered it with rocks.
Pacundo helped me carry it. He knows exactly where it is."
"I'll take Facundo with me," Carlos said.
"Gracias, Nick. Go have a good time."
When Palazzi turned to leave, Carlos reached out and broke his neck. at quitting time, Andy's secretary brought Kerney the typed transcript of Robert Cordova's statement. He stood by the conference room windows watching the last brush stroke in a red sky change to twilight, and thought about Robert's account of the rape of Nita Lassiter. Robert's recall, while disjointed, had been fresh and detailed, as though it had happened days instead of years ago. Kerney stayed at the window and read through the meat of Robert's statement.
KK: "Robert, tell me what happened on May is, 1980."
RC: "AddieandI-" KK: "Can you identify Addie more precisely? " RC:
"Anita Lassiter. Her nickname was Addie when I lived with her family.
That's what I call her."
KK: "Goon," RC: "It has a big head with round spots for the body. And ears and little fact."
KK: "Back up, Robert. What are you talking about?"
RC: "The snake, man."
KK; "Let's start over. Were you with Addie-Nita Lassiter-on May 18,1980?"
RC: "Yeah. After school, Addie and me went snake hunting.
I wasn't crazy then. I was pretty cool. Had a lot of friends.
Everybody liked me."
KK; "Where did you and Addie go?"
RC: "Serpent Gate."
KK; "Tell me about Serpent Gate."
RC: "I already told you. It has ears and little feet, just like the one on Pop Shaffer's fence."
KK: "Where is it?"
RC; "Out of town. Snakes live there. Addie says it's because of the gophers and mice. Snakes eat them."
KK: "And there's a serpent like the one on Pop Shaffer's fence?"
RC: "It's identical. Some Indian put it there hundreds of years ago.
It's on a big boulder. There's lots of other stuff scratched and painted in the rocks."
KK: "Rock art?"
RC: "Yeah."
KK: "What happened at Serpent Gate?"
RC: "He kept saying, "Do you like my snake, Addie? Tell me you like it." Stuff like that."
KK: "Slow down, Robert. Who are you talking about?"
RC: "Paul GUles pie He fucked her, man. Had her pinned to the ground.
Raped her, man. Her panties were down at her ankles. Kept saying,
"Jesus Christ, you have a tight pussy." He beat me up, man. Bad. I passed out for a minute or two."
KK: "Was he alone?"
RC: "Yeah. He had a rifle. I should have killed him.
Addie made me promise not to tell anybody."
KK: "Maybe Addie wanted to have sex with Gillespie."
RC: "Fuck you. Addie isn't like that."
KK: "How do you know?"
RC: "He held the rifle under her chin. Said she had to fuck him or he'd shoot both of us. Then he slapped her. He was drunk."
KK: "How drunk?"
RC: "Well, maybe not drunk. But he had a six-pack of beer with him."
KK: "Can you remember anything else?"
RC: "No. Will you take me to jail now like you promised?"
KK: "In a minute. Nita means a lot to you, doesn't she?"
RC: "She's my best friend. She doesn't let anyone but me caR her Addie."
KK: "Is that why you didn't want to tell me you saw Nita outside the police station the night GiUespie was killed?"
RC: "Who says I saw her?"
KK: "Nita does."
RC: "She's lying. I didn't see nothing."
KK: "You need to tell me the whole truth, Robert."
RC: "I want to go to jail now."
KK: "Nita wants you to tell the truth."
RC: "Satan killed Paul GiUespie."
KK: "Try to remember what you saw outside the police station."
RC: "Crazy people don't have to remember."
KK: "We're going to have to talk about this again."
RC: "Noway."
KK: "You're one tough customer, Robert."
RC: "That's right."
Kerney stared out the window, thinking about Nita Lassiter, her pregnant daughter, and Robert, wondering how many other victims Paul Gillespie had left behind. sergbant Gilbert Martinez, the lead agent on the art theft case, stood in the open doorway of the conference room waiting for the new deputy chief to nonce him.
Chief Kerney stared out the window with a sheaf of papers in his hand, apparently lost in thought.
For ten of his fifteen years on the force, Martinez had been assigned to the criminal investigations unit in Albuquerque with officers and supervisors he knew well. His promotion to sergeant and transfer to Santa Fe had come through two months ago. Now he had a new boss he didn't know, responsibility for a case that could turn into a political time bomb, and information that made him believe the bomb might be ticking.
Over the years, Gilbert had watched some damn fine agents and investigators get demoted back to patrol duties or dumped at a desk job because they pissed off a department bigwig or politician. And while the brass bragged about having the best cop shop in the state-which wasn't an exaggeration-it was still a bureaucracy, where people covered their asses and shit flowed downhill.
Two brief meetings with Kerney had not yet told Martinez what kind of cop the deputy chief would turn out to be when faced with the tough decisions. He was about to find out.
Tired of waiting to be noticed, Gilbert cleared his throat to get Kerney's attention.
"Come in, Sergeant," Kerney said as he turned, spotted Martinez, smiled, and walked to the conference table.
"Grab a seat."
The chief looked tired and his limp seemed more pronounced.
"Thank you, sir."
Tall, slender, with blue eyes and light brown hair graying at the temples, Martinez didn't fit the popular stereotype of a Hispanic. An unruffled man with a gentle way of speaking, Gilbert looked more like a college professor than a cop. He sat across from Kerney and opened a thick file.
"We've got a potential hot potato on our hands, Chief."
"What's the problem?"
"I talked to a journalist with some reliable sources.
He relayed some rumors floating around about Roger Springer, the governor's nephew, that may be of interest."
"What kind of rumors?" Kerney asked.
"Springer's marriage fell apart midway during the governor's first term. Springer is a lawyer. He was serving as deputy general counsel on the governor's staff at the time. Rumor has it that Springer was screwing around with some of the women in the governor's office.
Springer left his position to enter private practice with a firm here in town. According to my source, the governor called in a few favors to keep the situation hushed up."
"How did he do that?" Kerney asked.
"The two women in question got promoted into jobs at state agencies.
One now works in the health department and the other one has a position at the state library."
"Go on," Kerney said.
"From what I've been told, it's like Springer never left his uncle's staff. His law firm has a consultant contract with the governor's office. He's handling litigation with Texas over the apportionment of water rights in the Pecos River. He has free and unrestricted access to the governor's suite."