“How’s that going, by the way?” Dayan asked. “We need to follow up on that.”
“We’ve just started.”
“Bill Gastner?”
Estelle nodded. “He’s fine.”
“No…I meant to ask if he’s still heading up the project.”
“Yes, he is. Thank heavens, too.”
“There’s a good story there,” Dayan said. “I talked to Bill a little bit last week. I don’t think that when the village and county voted to consolidate services, they thought about all the work involved. I’ve never seen so much paperwork.” Dayan’s short article had included a front-page photo that featured the five huge, old filing cabinets that held most of the records, the photo nicely out of focus in typical Dayan fashion. Standing in front of the trove of records were Gastner and his two helpers, department photographer Linda Real and Deputy Mike Sisneros.
“The village was incorporated in 1931,” Estelle said, and held up both hands. “And the Sheriff’s Department has records going back to 1914. Even for a little wide spot in the road, that’s a lot of paperwork that has accumulated over the years.”
“So what do you do with it all?”
“Consolidate it with our own,” Estelle said. “Someone has to decide what is passed along to the state and to the NCIC computerized systems. If John Doe has a file with the county,” and she shifted in her chair, “and also a record with the village, then all of that has to be consolidated in one comprehensive data base.”
“He’s going to be able to do all that?”
“He?”
“Bill.”
“Frank, he’s not working by himself. Mike Sisneros is full-time on the project with him. So is Linda Real…at least as much of the time as we can spare her.”
“What kind of timetable are you looking at?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “We’ve never done this before, Frank. We’re sort of feeling our way. What we don’t want to do is end up with some enormous mess on our hands. We want all the files comprehensible and electronically accessible as a useful database. Otherwise, there’s no point in any of it. I’ve made that a priority this year.”
“But you haven’t actually started sifting yet?”
Estelle shook her head. “We’ve done a lot of preliminary work, Frank. For one thing, we moved all the files to this building so that there’s some security. We’ve set up shop in the conference room. It’s a good place to work.” Estelle watched impassively as Frank jotted for a moment.
“I guess I’m going to need to talk with the sheriff, huh?”
“Eventually. That would be a good idea.”
“What’s he think of this consolidation thing?”
“You’d have to ask him, Frank.”
Dayan grimaced. “I mean, does he think it’s a good idea, generally? He didn’t have much to say during the commission meetings.”
“It’s what the county commission and the village trustees want to do,” Estelle said. “It’s really as simple as that. Naturally, from an administrative standpoint, there are some advantages for us by putting everything under one roof. That makes some things easier.”
“Some things?”
“Sure. Some. Not all. Nothing’s perfect. And remember that it isn’t really consolidation, Frank. That’s what we all call it, but it’s not really that. The village dissolved its police department, and contracted the county for services. That’s a little different than consolidation.”
“You’re a good politician, you know that?” Dayan laughed, and pushed himself out of the straight-backed chair. “There’s a bunch of things I need to do. I’ll get out of here and let you enjoy your Christmas morning,” he said. “Where are we at with the two morons from Indiana?”
“We’re going to fit in a prelim with Judge Hobart this morning sometime. Just as soon as we can. I think that Tom Pasquale is going to handle that chore.”
“What’s next, then?”
“We’ll be meeting with the district attorney…probably tomorrow or Monday. We’ll just have to see. There are some communications that are necessary with the folks in Indiana, too.”
“You think he’s going to set bail pretty high? Interstate flight risk and all that?”
“You’d have to ask the judge about that, Frank.”
“Oh, sure.” He took a deep breath. “That’s like petting a rattlesnake. How about if I check with you tomorrow. How about that?”
“That would be good.” She rose and offered a warm smile to Dayan. “I know I’m not terribly forthcoming, Frank. But we have a lot that’s pending, and until some basic decisions are made…”
“I know how it works,” Dayan said. “I’ll be in touch. Would you holler if something major erupts?”
She nodded and stood behind her desk for a moment, well past the time when his footsteps had faded down the hall. Eventually she realized that Deputy Brent Sutherland was standing in the doorway of her office. He leaned against the doorframe as if content to see how long Estelle was planning to remain lost in her thoughts.
“Hola, Señor Brent,” she said, and shook her head to bring the present time and place back into focus. “Thanks for staying on. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” the young deputy said, although the resigned expression on his face said that wasn’t quite true. “How’s the sheriff?”
“Not so good, I think,” Estelle replied. “They’re going to fly him up to Albuquerque in a few minutes.”
“Ouch.”
“Yes, ouch.” She moved out from behind her desk. “I saw on the duty board that Tommy Pasquale has switched with Dennis for the day?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sergeant Mears okayed that. Dennis wanted to go to Phoenix to spend Christmas with his mom and dad, and Pasquale didn’t have any problems about working today. Linda was coming in this afternoon anyway. She and Bill Gastner were going to figure out where to start. With her working, Tom thought he might as well do the same.”
“Ah,” Estelle said. “Padrino is a bad influence, I can see that.” She speculated that holidays meant little more to Bill Gastner than just another irritating day when his favorite restaurant might be closed. A long-time widower, he didn’t take the opportunity of the holidays to visit any of his own four adult children and their families.
Looking as if dispensing more good news might win him a reprieve, Sutherland said, “Sergeant Mears wired up three computer terminals in the conference room that all tie into the main server. They’re all set to go. Linda was going to check everything out this afternoon when Gastner got here.”
“What about Mike?”
Sutherland smiled. “He said he might duck in for a few minutes before he and Janet headed to Lordsburg to see his folks.”
Former sheriff Bill Gastner had agreed to head up the records project if Deputy Mike Sisneros, a former village patrolman, worked with Linda Real and himself as a team. Estelle had agreed, even though she was loath to tie up Linda with the job, since Linda was the department’s most talented photographer and Gayle Torrez’s assistant office manager.
She pulled the cell phone from her belt as it chirped.
“Guzman.” She could hear the thunderous roar in the background and knew instantly that it was the twin turboprops of the air ambulance.
“Querida, we’re on the way,” her husband said, his voice unnaturally loud. “I’ll give you a buzz from the hospital a little later, all right?”
“Sure. And I was serious about taking Sofía to Albuquerque, oso. Let me know if you get yourself stuck up there. We’ll come rescue you.”
“We’ll just have to see,” Francis said. “I think they’re dead-heading the plane back to Cruces after they drop us off, and if they do that, I’m going to lose my ride.”
“Then let me know. How’s Bobby?”
“Riding comfortably, and cranky as ever. I’m optimistic, but we’ll just see how this all goes.”