by Ian Jones
Slater made more notes and put his pen down.
‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah, there is. On the way back I had to stop, there was some kind of accident with a van on the road past Marathon. You had a couple of highway patrol guys there, probably about five, five-thirty. You can check that too. And, you got my wallet, I’ve got a receipt from the petrol station in Gray Rock, and another near Fort Stockton so that will confirm the times I’m giving you.’
‘Well, we do know our job Mr Smith. Be advised we will be doing what needs to be done.’
‘And the prison of course. They know exactly the time I arrived and left. They took my passport while I was inside.’
Myers sat uncomfortably, Slater stood up.
‘Right Mr Smith, we got some work to do I guess. We need to check all this out for ourselves, you understand. So, I’ll get you taken back to your cell for now, we shouldn’t be too long. You can make your phone call first.’
‘Thanks. And can I get something to drink? I had a coffee about six hours ago.’
‘Sure, I’ll sort that out. You hungry?’
John realised he was. He hated himself for it but admitted it.
Myers stood up and walked around, pressing a buzzer by the door. It was opened after a short time by the nervous guy and they all filed out into the corridor. Myers immediately disappeared off to the office at the end while Slater led John back into the custody area. He arranged the phone call and then stood to one side with the woman cop talking quietly in her ear.
John called Patrick and explained everything that had happened.
‘Shit,’ Patrick said.
‘Yep,’ John told him.
‘Jesus Christ. What the fuck is going on down there? OK, look try and stay cool. I’m all over it,’ Patrick replied and hung up the phone.
The woman cop came over and took John back to the cell. There were no handcuffs. This time, she was almost friendly; the dynamic had changed. Slater must have divulged something.
John sat back down on the bunk wondering how long it would be this time. The prison would be first, and that would be quick and simple. They would also confirm John’s vehicle was there. They would have the absolute facts; John had driven from Gray Rock to Howarth, and then after the visit all the way back again. Total close to seven hours that he could account for being nowhere near the motel, in fact even the town. He knew there would be other details to check, which maybe could take some time. He wasn’t sure how easy it would be.
He was getting angry, he needed to be out of here, back in Gray Rock.
He had work to do. Work that he really wanted to get done now.
Forty minutes later the woman cop came back with a McDonalds meal in a paper bag along with a Coke. He took it gratefully and sat there eating and drinking slowly, clearing his head, concentrating on nothing at all while he ate. He balled up all the rubbish and placed it by the gate and washed his hands.
Then he sat back down again to wait.
Myers was back a couple of hours later, with a hangdog look on his face. The woman cop was with him, and with a beaming smile unlocked the gate. No handcuffs. They walked back to the interview room; Slater was already sitting there, with a small stack of paperwork in front of him. No folder.
John sat down again in the same seat as before, and Myers did the same, starting the recording. Slater repeated the introductions and the new time.
‘So,’ Slater said.
John looked at him.
‘Well, we have checked your story. And I have to tell you, it is watertight. You were telling the truth. You were at Howarth between 2.30 and 3.20 today. You filled your car at 11.10 in Gray Rock, and then again at a filling station about fifteen miles from here at 4.55. There was a road traffic incident just outside Marathon, the Highway Patrol did attend and they confirm the road reopened just before 5.30. So Mr Smith, we do not believe you murdered Rita Geller.’
‘But,’ John said.
‘But. There is evidence that there were at least two people responsible, at this time believed to be the men who perpetrated the crime. We cannot rule out that you are involved in some way.’
‘Why would I want to kill her? I only met her last night.’
‘For what it’s worth Mr Smith, I do believe you. I don’t think you had nothing to do with it. And I have more information if you wish to hear it.’
John sat back, heart speeding up.
‘Please.’
‘Well as you rightly say, Rita was not murdered in your motel room. We have checked your car, there is no blood or trace evidence at all other that some fibres from her skirt on the front passenger seat, which fits your story.’
‘Right.’
‘Rita Geller was asked to be at the plant today by a Mr Victor Francis, who is a PR manager there. We have interviewed him. He tells us that Rita has worked for him several times and is popular, he likes her. Today, she disappeared. He was annoyed about it. Mr Francis was showing the guests some more secure areas and when he returned he expected Rita to be waiting with coffee. However, there was no sign of her. Security have no record of her leaving.’
John thought hard.
‘She said something about some assholes, she asked what were they doing here? Something like that.’
‘I heard you say that, so I checked with security for that time you said she called, around one-thirty. At one-twenty, a van came into the plant, with a driver and one other man. The guard didn’t get a real good look at either of them. We have checked the security tape; the guys clearly know about the camera and keep their faces obscured all the time. They were there to collect some office furniture, they had paperwork which we are checking now. The guard let them in. They left about twenty minutes or so later.’
John nodded.
‘Ok, so have you got the van details?’
‘Yes, and the state police already found it, up at the airport in the goods yard. They have checked it, and it’s been impounded. It has been cleaned, but there is a lot of trace evidence. Gary Webber, who is the manager at Big Lil’s confirms you met Rita last night. She sent him a text message actually, asking if you had left at nine PM yesterday evening. You just had so he sent her one back. He guessed the rest.’
Slater picked up the next sheet.
‘Time of death confirmed at between two-thirty and four-thirty. So no, you didn’t do this.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘But you understand we have to act on the information and evidence we have?’
John tutted.
‘Yes of course. What else is there?’
‘Well, we have a witness who believes the van was in the motel car park about four-thirty. A waitress at the diner saw it. The body was discovered and called in at four-forty-five by a Mrs Walton, who is the motel manager. I was there at five-thirty, it just happened that I was on my way back from Carline.’
‘How did Mrs Walton find it?’
‘She says she was doing a routine housekeeping inspection.’
‘No, she was told to do it.’
‘Told to by who? I have no evidence of that.’
‘I need to get back to Gray Rock.’
‘Mr Smith, I advise very strongly that you do not attempt any independent action. Leave this to us, this is what we do. It’s a police matter.’
‘Ok then, so Mr Police talk to me. Tell me about Gray Rock.’
Myers looked at him briefly, then up at the clock on the wall, disinterested. Slater pursed his lips.
‘What’s to tell? Small town, like so many others round here. Nothing special.’
‘So, a whole brand new town springs up in like, ten years, completely cutting off the original residents, and seriously rich guys are running around making their own laws as a result and the police aren’t interested?’
‘Today was the first time I’ve been to Gray Rock, in what, six years I guess. I don’t know it, we’re not local PD for the area. I couldn’t even remember where it is, had to check the pl
ace out on a map before I went there.’
‘But there’s never any complaints, never been any problems, nothing on record?’
‘Again, I don’t know the town Mr Smith. Last time I was there was a missing person’s case. I only got called in because there was already a similar one on file.’
‘Missing person? Let me guess, Mexican family, from the south side.’
Slater looked uncomfortable.
‘Yeah ok Mr Smith, I can see where this is going. As it happens yes, you are right. The missing person was a gentleman in his fifties, a car mechanic whose business recently closed down. He’d been depressed according to statements we read that the local sheriff took. Reported missing by his family, daughter from memory. The man was Mexican born but a US resident for over twenty years.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing. It was handed back to the sheriff. There’s only so much we can do in these cases; depressed man disappears surrounded by thousands of square miles of nothing.’
‘And the previous case was the same.’
Slater sighed.
‘Look, I know how this sounds now. I get it. We couldn’t be bothered. But we did all we could. The previous case was about six months before, man of similar age, I don’t recall all the details, I wasn’t directly involved with it. But again, the sheriff dealt with it. They’re right there, on the ground, they know the people and the area. I can see how this looks, elitist whites living in luxury, with a ghetto to the south. I am a black man Mr Smith. But there is no record of any serious crime in Gray Rock within the past ten years.’
‘The sheriff is an arsehole, who is up to his neck in the shit floating around down there.’
‘If there is any corruption, and if there is any collusion with law enforcement, then we will find out and get to the bottom of it. And this is a murder enquiry, it needs police involvement. We won’t go away, we will find out who did this.’
‘I know who did it.’
Slater folded his arms.
‘I had a call from the FBI. They aren’t very happy with me. You got quite the fan club there. I have already called them back and appraised them of the revised situation. I would ask that you inform them that I have freely advised you and supplied you with full information. But we need to ask the questions, you understand?’
‘I do, but you need to listen. I can tell you right now who to talk to. Start off with the woman from the motel; Mrs Walton, she is in deep there is no doubt. And that fat fucker of a sheriff. Keep moving up the chain. You’ll get to three men; Barlow, Abel, Cane. They are at the heart of this.’
Slater looked hard at him for a while, and then wrote down the three names. John wondered if he was already aware of them.
‘Now, can I get out of here?’
‘Mr Smith, I advise you not to return to Gray Rock. We can find alternate accommodation for you if you wish to remain in the area.’
‘Unlucky. I’m going back.’
‘Mr Smith …’
John got out his chair and pressed the buzzer by the door.
‘I do not believe you can stop me,’ he said quietly.
Slater shrugged and stood up.
The door was opened by the nervous guy, and Slater took John back to the booking area. Myers, who had said nothing at all the entire time, vanished again.
The woman cop stood back while Slater spoke to her. She unlocked a cabinet and produced the plastic bag with John’s wallet, passport and mobile in it, and also his bag from the motel, now covered in fingerprint powder.
‘Where’s my hire car?’ John asked.
‘It was taken to Marathon, but it will be returned to the sheriff station at Gray Rock,’ the woman told him.
‘I don’t want it there. I’ll collect it from Marathon myself, you just need to get me there.’
Slater shrugged again.
‘Mr Smith, you are not making this easy on yourself, or me.’
‘I don’t care.’
The outside door opened, and the big young cop from earlier walked in. He looked pissed off. He glanced at John and waited. The woman cop walked out from behind the counter. She told the cop where to take John, and he looked even more unhappy, but walked back outside without saying anything. Slater and John followed. There was a cruiser in front of the door with the engine running. John threw his bag on the back seat and transferred his belongings back into his pockets.
‘I’ll be seeing you Mr Smith,’ Slater said.
‘Maybe.’
Much to the young cop’s annoyance John got in the front passenger seat.
Slater watched the car drive away and looked at the woman.
‘We have not heard the last of that man. Better warn that fat turd of a sheriff down in Gray Rock.’
‘I’ll get round to it.’
She looked at Slater.
‘He got something don’t he?’
Slater nodded.
‘Yeah, he does. It didn’t fit as soon as we started to talk.’
She smiled.
‘Myers is super pissed.’
Slater smiled back.
‘Oh yeah. Myers is all about the statistics, he wants the quick arrest, the numbers on his record. To him this was all gift wrapped soon as we got him here. He’ll get over it.
The woman turned to go back inside.
‘Gonna rain,’ she commented as she pulled open the door.
The young cop did not say a word for the entire journey. But John was ok with that, lost in his own thoughts. He watched the dark landscape drift past, occasional traffic, nothing really to see. The rain started about halfway, falling hard. He was dropped off at the sheriff station in Marathon, and retrieved his bag from the back seat. He had barely closed the back door before the car was powering away, accelerating hard.
John walked in and spoke to the desk guy, a civilian. Slater had called ahead. The desk guy got on the radio and a few minutes later another cop walked in, eating a sandwich.
‘You John Smith?’ he asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Got ID?’
John showed him his passport. The cop walked out the front door, and turned into a yard at the side. John’s hire car was parked against the wall. The cop dropped the key in his hand and walked away. Both inside and outside the car was covered in powder, it was everywhere. But the rain had cleaned the roof, bonnet and boot and there were streaks down the sides.
John climbed in and closed the door, then adjusted the seat and got out his mobile. He sent a text message, and then waited. A couple of minutes passed then the phone rang.
‘Hello John.’
‘Hi.’
‘What can we do for you?’
‘Right. There’s a town in West Texas called Gray Rock. They have a Radisson. I need a room, but I need it for a week from say three days ago.’
‘Yes, ok.’
‘And can you show me staying there with a wife, and that I am already checked in?’
He could hear some faint keyboard activity on the other end of the line.
‘Yes of course, in your name?’
‘No, use …’John thought hard, he hadn’t considered this. ‘John Lampard. That’ll do.’’
‘I will confirm once completed.’
‘Thank you.’
He hung up and then called Patrick, who already knew everything anyway.
‘John don’t go fucking crazy down there,’ Patrick warned.
‘I won’t,’ John lied. ‘Patrick, you need to get Collis out of Howarth, and I mean quickly. This shit is about to explode, I don’t want anyone else killed.’
‘I’m already on that, but I will push it through. Safe house if necessary.’
John hung up and started the car, and set off back to Gray Rock.
The drive took longer than previously, he was careful to keep the speed down and to concentrate. The rain was still falling heavily, and the roads were slippery. His brain was spinning with a lot of bad thoughts, but eventually he was driving down the hill p
ast the plant, which was all lit up, even at two-thirty in the morning. He passed the motel, and the diner, and then turned west and cruised past the rock, turning right at the far end. He didn’t want to use the hotel car park so he drove on up the hill and parked up near a couple of other cars in the turning which led to Collis’s house, got his bag and jogged across and down the road to the hotel. He had calculated that the Radisson would probably not be full, but it would still operate twenty-four hours a day and that the staff would rotate. So it was entirely possible that they could have guests staying that some staff would never actually see.
He checked his mobile, there was a text to say it was all done. Room 602. And it included breakfast.
He was all set.
He walked up to the hotel entrance and the doors opened automatically. There was a man behind the counter, dozing, his eyes snapping open when he heard the doors. John hurried over and affected an American accent.
‘Hi, I’m John Lampard, room 602? I am real sorry, I had a meeting which dragged on and my wife has my room key. I am sorry.’
The man gave a rueful half smile, and tapped some keys on the keyboard in front of him.
‘It’s no problem,’ he said, and slid a key card across the counter.
‘Thank you.’
John walked quickly across to the lift. He saw a small bar and restaurant in front of him that was empty. He went up to the room and let himself in, then closed and locked the door. He dropped the bag on the floor and walked over to the window. He was overlooking the rock. To his far left he could see the town hall and sheriff station and to his right he guessed he would be able to see the neon lights of Lil’s if it was open.
He would be reasonably safe here. They would never think to look for him in this hotel, and even if they did the reservation wouldn’t fit. And he knew he was better than them. Hide in plain sight, it had always been successful in the past.
He stripped and had a long shower, and scrubbed his teeth. Then he climbed into bed.
He didn’t think he would be able to sleep, but after a while he drifted off, his body shutting down completely.
Chapter Fifteen