For several years, while he recovered from the wounds that had forced him to retire from the Santa Fe PD, Kerney had lived and worked on a ranch in the basin with a view of the escarpment and the Ortiz Mountains in the far distance. He had never tired of the sweep of the land against the sky, and the ever-changing colors that painted the scenery new again each passing day.
Kerney made good time on a dear road. He arrived at the Torrance County courthouse in Estanda and went looking for Wesley Marshall, who wasn't in his office. He found Marshall, Bradley Pollings, and Gary Dalquist waiting for him in an empty jury room.
Puffings had brought in a co-counsel with impressive credentials.
Dalquist specialized in capital murder cases.
He was a short, older man with a deep, rumbling voice and a cherubic face. Criticized as a flamboyant showman, he had a strong track record of acquittals, dismissed cases, and reduced felony plea bargain agreements.
Prosecutors hated to go up against him.
Marshall got up and walked to the door.
"Aren't you staying?" Kerney asked.
"Can't," Wesley replied.
"I meet with the grand jury in ten minutes. You can handle it without me."
Kerney handed him a copy of Robert Cordova's statement.
"What's this?" Marshall asked in a surly tone as he stuffed the papers in a jacket pocket.
"Something you might want to read." He nodded in Dalquist's direction.
"Looks like you have some serious opposition, Counselor."
Marshall grunted and walked away.
After a quick introduction, Kerney gave another copy of Robert's statement to Dalquist before the actual Q and A began. Dalquist read it, glanced at Kerney with a gleam in his eye, and passed the document to Puffings.
"Shall we get started?" Dalquist asked, his finger poised over the tape recorder.
"By all means," Kerney replied.
Dalquist was thorough in his questioning. He concentrated on the arrest procedure, Nita's mental state at the time both confessions were made, and the fact that Nita's first confession preceded Kerney's Miranda warning.
He was looking for screwups he could use to have the confession thrown out.
Kerney's answers didn't please Dalquist.
Dalquist moved on to Nita and asked whether or not Kerney thought she knew what she was doing the night she shot Gillespie; Rerney declined the bait.
Finally, Dalquist turned to Robert's statement and grilled Kerney about Cordova. Kerney obliged with the facts he had at hand.
"Do you think Mr. Cordova would make a competent witness?" Dalquist asked as he hit the stop button to the tape recorder.
"I'm not a psychiatrist," Kerney said.
"But along that same line, has the psychological evaluation on Ms.
Lassiter been completed?"
"The report will be in the judge's hands in the morning," Dalquist said.
"I expect Ms. Lassiter to be released on bail by noon."
"That's good to know."
"Do you plan to force Robert Cordova to corroborate Ms. Lassiter's statement that he saw her leaving the murder scene?" Dalquist asked.
"I don't think I can force Robert to do anything," Kerney replied. wesley marshall waylaid Kerney on his way out of the building.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me you planned to interview Robert Cordova? The case fell under my jurisdiction when I signed off on the paperwork. You don't take this kind of action without my approval."
"Robert found me. I didn't go looking for him. Do you want all the facts. Counselor, or just those that will help you win the case?"
"I want them all, of course," Marshall said.
"But you may have given Dalquist an early Christmas present."
"Wouldn't it be helpful to have Robert put Lassiter at the scene of the crime?"
"I'm not railing him as a witness. He's a mental case, for chrissake.
Totally unreliable."
"Then impeach him on the witness stand, if Dalquist decides to use him for the defense."
"Don't do this again, Kerney. This is the second time you've messed with me."
"I think you're fairly new at the game, Mr. Marshall, so let me remind you of the drill. My responsibility to you consists of gathering all the facts, and that doesn't end until a decision is reached in a court of law."
"Whose side are you on?"
"This isn't about taking sides." andy baca was waiting for Kerney when he got back to the office. The clerical staff and most of the civilian workers were gone for the day and the building was quiet.
"You look wrecked," Andy said.
"I am." Kerney flopped on the couch and stretched his right leg. The throbbing in his reconstructed knee felt like sharp hammer blows.
"Bring me up to speed," Andy said as he sat with Kerney.
"What don't you know?"
"How did your meeting with the governor go?"
"I survived it," Kerney answered.
"Springer is determined to keep any hint of staff sexual misconduct buried under the rug. Correction-buried under the carpet."
"He called and gave me the same marching orders."
"Did he sweeten the pot with money to pay for all the overtime we're burning?"
"He did. And he ordered me to reinstate Howell and the security detail to duty immediately."
Kerney grunted.
"Then the only thing I can add is a warning: Vance Howell is in the governor's hip pocket.
Only tell him things you want Springer to know."
"Is it that bad?"
"You bet," Kerney said.
"How did the Lassiter deposition go?"
"Aside from pissing off the ADA, it went well. I turned over a witness statement that the defense counsel loved and the ADA hated. He might call you up and bitch about me. Did Martinez stop by to brief you?"
"Yes. He dropped off some hair samples from Amanda Talley's apartment.
The lab report came in an hour ago. They're a perfect match with the hairs found in the governor's office and the van. You should be pleased. It ties the two crimes together."
"It also means that Amanda Talley is probably dead," Kerney noted.
"So who in the hell is using her name and vacationing in Belize?"
"Beats me. Let's get a search warrant and have Martinez take a closer look at Talley's apartment."
The supervisor of the fingerprint unit, a bookish looking man carrying some papers in his hand, stepped tentatively into the office with a pleased expression on his face.
"Chief Baca. Chief Kerney. Got a minute?"
"What is it, Stan?" Andy asked.
"We got a hit back on a clean thumbprint from the van. The ID didn't come through normal channels.
Army Intelligence made the guy. His name is Carlos Ruiz. He works for a Mexican national named Enrique De Leon who operates out of Juarez.
Interpol says De Leon is a major international smuggler; drugs, an, rare artifacts, anything with a big-ticket value. I've got Ruiz's mug shot and rap sheet."
"I'll be damned," Andy said.
Kerney had gone up against De Leon and Ruiz once before, and Andy knew the case well. He had put a badge in Kerney's pocket when he was the Dona Ana County sheriff, on what appeared to be nothing more than a missing person case involving Kerney's godson.
By the time the dust settled, Kerney had uncovered murders, a major smuggling scheme, and a rogue military intelligence agent in league with De Leon "Bring it here," Kerney said. He took the photograph from the supervisor's hand and studied it. Carlos Ruiz's ugly, pockmarked face stared back at him.
"Can you run the investigation without me for a day?" he asked.
"Where do you think you're going?" Andy asked.
"Juarez. The art theft is just De Leon kind of caper.
Ruiz's involvement cinches it. I need to find out where De Leon is and where the goodies are stashed. I'll need some money."