"I didn't think Mexican schools did that very much."
"Everybody wants to learn English so they can come here," Terjo said defensively.
"What was the name of your school?"
"It is gone. The government closed it many years ago."
"You must have been a good student."
"I learned more English when I came to this country."
"I'm thinking maybe Lawton killed Mrs. Terrell because of jealousy," Sal said.
Torque?"
"Because you were sleeping with both of them."
"That's not true."
"Somebody had sex in Terrell's bedroom before the murder. Was it you?"
Terjo rubbed his nose.
"I would never do that."
"The hair samples we took will tell us," Sal said.
"Then you'll know what I say is true."
"I hope so, for your sake," Sal said.
"Still, we've got this marijuana thing to deal with."
"I think maybe some kids left it there," Terjo said, the tone of his voice rising slightly.
"Kids?"
Terjo spoke quickly.
"Sometimes they use the stables when I'm not around. They get in through the open stalls to the corral. A couple of times they even broke into the RV."
"I see."
"I've found empty beer cans and used rubbers in there before."
"In the RV?"
"Yeah, and the stables."
"How did they get into the RV?"
"Sometimes I forget to lock it."
"When was the last time this happened?"
"Maybe two weeks ago."
"Did you call the police and report it?"
"No. Nothing was stolen, nada."
"Did you report any of the prior incidents?" Sal asked.
"No."
"Do you know the kids by name? Where they live?"
Terjo cleared his throat.
"No, pero I'm guessing it was kids. Mira, I never saw them."
Molina shook his head sympathetically.
"Too bad. If you'd reported the break-ins, maybe this drug-dealing charge wouldn't be hanging over you."
Terjo lowered his head.
"It's not my grass."
"Did Mrs. Terrell ever talk about her husband?"
"Just to say he was a very important man who does much work for the government."
"Nothing more than that?"
"Sometimes she would seem upset after talking to him on the telephone."
"Upset about what?"
"I don't know."
"Did Mrs. Terrell have a lover?"
"She would never talk to me about personal things like that."
Sal pushed.
"Did she have a lover?"
Terjo looked away before responding.
"I don't know nothing about that."
"Let's go over again what you did last night," Sal said, backing off with a smile.
"I gotta stay here?" Terjo asked.
"For now," Sal replied.
"Start with what you were doing just before you spoke to Terrell for the last time."
Molina used his notes to move Terjo through the events he'd previously reported.
He finished up and got to his feet.
"Did you tell one of your amigos how easy it would be to break into Mrs.
Terrell's house and rip her off while she was gone?"
"I would never do such a thing."
"Maybe your friend came at the wrong time, Mrs. Terrell caught him in the act, so he decided to rape and kill her."
"That's loco."
Molina turned off the recorder and extracted the cassette.
"Just tap on the door if you remember something else you want to tell me, or if you want to change your story."
"I told you everything. I want to leave now."
"If you left, I'd start to believe you don't want to cooperate," Sal replied.
"You wouldn't want me to think that, would you?"
"I'll wait," Terjo said with a sigh.
"He stuck to his story, Chief," Molina said as he walked with Kerney to the second-floor landing, "and it didn't sound rehearsed to me."
"He's lying about something," Kerney said.
"Why and what are the questions?"
"I'll talk to the girlfriend."
"Canvass her neighbors to see if they saw Terjo entering or leaving her house.
And query the Mexican authorities and see what they have on him."
"We could wait weeks for a reply."
"I want him locked up at least overnight. Book him on the drug dealing charges."
"Our probable cause is weak," Molina said.
"Granted, but it buys you time to push him a little harder. Let's find out what he's covering up."
"Anything else, Chief?"
"Assuming Terjo isn't involved in the murder, that leaves us only with the victim's profile to go on."
"We're talking to Terrell's friends and acquaintances right now," Molina said.
"Good."
Helen Muiz signaled to Kerney from the doorway to the administrative wing. He waved and she stayed put.
"Do you need anything else from me, Lieutenant?"
"Some clarification would help, Chief. How deeply involved in the investigation do you want to be?"
"I want to know everything that goes on."
"I meant personally."
"That depends," Kerney said.
"On how well me and my people do our jobs?"
"Exactly. You've got five open murder investigations that haven't been cleared.
That's five out. of six during the past year. It is not a cheerful statistic.
Don't add the Terrell homicide to the list."
Molina fought off a desire to explain and squared his shoulders.
"If you want me to put in my retirement papers, tell me now."
"That's not what I want. At this point you have my goodwill, Lieutenant.
Whether or not I come to appreciate your abilities is up to you. Do the job and I'll stay off your butt."
"That's straight enough," Molina said, stomping away.
Helen Muiz eyed Kerney speculatively when he approached.
"What have you got for me?" Kerney asked Helen flipped open her notebook and started talking. Ambassador Terrell was due to arrive by corporate jet at the Santa Fe airport in several hours. The mayor, governor, and a State Department official had called asking Kerney to extend every courtesy to the ambassador. Several newspaper reporters were in the lobby clamoring for a briefing.
"Have them stand by in the downstairs conference room and ask Lieutenant Molina to issue the standard statement that we're not releasing any information presently," Kerney said.
Helen nodded.
"And the FBI has arrived," she said.
"Special Agent Applewhite is waiting in your office."
Kerney knew all the local special agents and Applewhite wasn't a name he was familiar with.
"Wanting what?"
"She didn't say."
Kerney made a face.
"Welcome to the Crystal Palace," Helen said.
"The what?"
"The chief's office was dubbed the Crystal Palace a couple of administrations ago. It is not a term of endearment."
"No, of course not," Kerney said.
Somewhere in her thirties, Special Agent Elaine Applewhite wore a cardigan sweater over a white turtleneck top and a pair of blue jeans.
The outfit didn't hide her sturdy-looking frame. She had a sharp chin, an oval face, a small, turned-down mouth, and empty eyes that reminded Kerney of the thousand-yard stare he'd seen on the faces of soldiers in Vietnam. A bright new red ski parka hung neatly over a chair at the small conference table that butted against the front of Kerney's desk.
"Make yourself at home," Kerney said as Applewhite arranged herself in a chair.
He moved to his desk, sat, and waited.
Applewhite adjusted her position to face Kerney head-on.
"The wife of a Federal official has been murdered, Chief Kerney. The Bureau has jurisdiction in the matter."
"Are you here to assume oversight?"
"That's not my role," Applewhite replied.
"I understand you have a suspect in custody."
"What exactly is your role, Agent Applewhite?" Kerney asked.