Tahoe Silence

by Todd Borg

  “And you still never met Tony Go?”

  “No. He said he’d pay us each five thousand for the job.” Marky turned to me to make certain I understood. “That’s ten thousand, total. It was in the storm drain the next day. I’ve never seen cash money like that. It was awesome.”

  “But you took the girl and her brother.”

  “Yeah. We didn’t know what to do with the brother. He was a tough little kid. Punching and kicking and yelling. Finally, Tiptoe hit him real hard and the kid hit his head on the corner of the van and then Tiptoe pushed the boy and the girl into the van. I put some tape on the girl like we were told, but I didn’t need to with the boy.

  “Tiptoe followed me on his bike and I drove out to the chain-up area to dump him. Tony Go hadn’t called, so I had to figure out what to do. I learned some Aztec words from one of the guys and I thought it would be smart to write one on the boy’s forehead. It was a cool thing to do, like in the TV shows. Makes the cops have to figure it out. But it didn’t make the news. I even looked in the paper. Nothin’. I don’t get it.”

  “Where did you take the girl?”

  Marky looked at me like I was an idiot. “To the house, of course. You were just there.”

  “But Tony Go wasn’t there?”

  “No. He just called and said where to go and where the key was and to put the girl upstairs and tape her up. Then we were to leave. So that’s what we did.”

  “Tony Go came after you left?”

  “I guess,” Marky said. “I don’t know how much he was at the house. We just did what he said. Come when he said, and leave when he said. Same for when he wanted us to scare your girl, throw shit at her condo. And bust you up. Only that didn’t work out too good.”

  “You got paid for all of it.”

  “Yeah. In the coffee can. In the storm drain.”

  “And when I came tonight?” I said.

  “He’d prepared us for it. We were like trained soldiers. If someone surprises us, comes for the girl, we hustle her out the back door and through the woods to the van. One of us drives the van to the parking lot. The other follows on one of our bikes so we can leave the van and get home. If we succeed in the evasion maneuver – that’s what he called it, the evasion maneuver – we get an extra thousand each.”

  “Which you would have to pick up in the storm drain tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.”

  I tried to get my brain around it. It was a perfect cover. Tony Go could get someone to do his deeds, but if it ever got to court no one could testify against him. They’d never seen him in person. They had no direct contact. Everything was disconnected from him. There were the phone calls, and the phone records could be obtained, but they would no doubt connect to a stolen cell phone.

  Unless the money could be directly connected to Tony Go, every scrap of evidence would be hearsay. Tony Go would be next to impossible to convict.

  Yet something was off. I tried to keep my focus on the gun I held against Marky, but my thoughts kept wandering. I couldn’t put my brain on it. Go had planned it perfectly. A kidnapping and a murder. No one would ever prove he did it.

  And then I remembered the old cop’s axiom. Turn it upside down. Flip it the other way. Assume that black is white and white is black. Which is another way of saying make no assumptions.

  The only assumption I’d made was that Tony Go was behind it. But was that true? Did Tony Go order the kidnapping and murders?

  The perfect foil that made it impossible to connect the kidnapping and murders to Tony Go also meant that someone else could be responsible. Someone else could have called Marky and Tiptoe and pretended to be Tony Go. The imposter would have paid Marky and Tiptoe money, sent them on missions, and paid them again to build loyalty. They would assume they were working for Tony Go and when caught would do their best to send him back to the Super Max.

  Tony Go had told me he didn’t know Marky and Tiptoe. Now I wondered again if he’d been telling the truth.

  FIFTY-ONE

  I said to Marky, “You said Tony Go referred to a new storage paradigm.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’d that come up?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he was talking about the girl. Like if she talked, we were supposed to pay attention. Especially to anything about the storage para... whatever. We weren’t supposed to touch her, just pay attention. Not that anyone would touch her anyway. She’s real weird. Retarded. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t act normal. More skinny than practically anyone I ever seen.”

  “Did she ever talk?”

  “No. Just draws. Got a little book and draws in it all the time.”

  I was thinking about the copy paper she’d used for her letter drawings. Nothing like sketchbook paper. “You see any copy paper in the house?”

  “We didn’t need copies of anything.”

  “So there was no copy paper in the house?” I said.

  Marky shook his head. “There was some printer paper, I guess. I didn’t really look.”

  “Where?”

  “Upstairs. Where we kept her. A computer printer. But no computer. Tony Go probably took it out.”

  “Was she tied up?”

  “No. Tony Go screwed some boards over the windows so she couldn’t get out. She pretty much had the run of the upstairs. We just locked the padlock on the door at the bottom of the stairs.”

  “You treat her okay?”

  “We treated her good,” he said, a kind of pride in his voice. “We brought her pizzas and Cokes. But she didn’t really eat much.”

  “How did Tony Go treat her?”

  “I don’t know. We weren’t there when he was there. But he probably roughed her up some. One day her shirt was torn. Another day, some of her hair was kinda melted. And her shirttail was burned. I don’t think he hurt her for real. More just to scare the crap outta her. Probably freaked her out good. But she’s so weird, who knows?”

  “You ever touch her?”

  “No. She’s gross-out skinny.”

  “Tiptoe touch her?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Deciding if I let you live,” I said, truthfully. “What else did Tony Go talk about?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He doesn’t talk about the things you and Tiptoe talk about, right? Did he talk about Lynard Skynard? Did he talk about his bike?”

  Marky shook his head.

  “What about his church or the Aztec stuff? Did he ever talk about the Aztec language?” I said.

  “No.”

  “Think back on when Tony Go called. What were the things he said? What sounded different from normal talk?”

  “Everything. He sounds totally different from normal.”

  “How? What kind of things did he say?”

  “I don’t know, man. I just listened. He’d say, like, ‘I would like to have,’ I don’t know, ‘a beer’ or something. Where a normal guy would just say, ‘Gimme the beer, dude.’” Marky thought a moment. “Or this come back to me now. I remember once when Tony Go said, ‘I’d appreciate it if you boys kept a close eye on her. It’s worth money to you.’ A regular guy would just say, ‘You want some bank, you sit on the bitch.’ You know what I mean?”

  “He have an accent?” I asked.

  “Like Mexican or something? No. He’s got that suit-coat accent. Probably went to college.”

  “You think he was born in this country? Never had an accent to start with?” I said.

  “I didn’t say that. Just that he got that college talk. Covers up what came before. I’ve heard it from guys who work for companies. And on TV. Guys who tell the news.”

  “Didn’t it strike you as odd that Tony Go talks like a newscaster?” I said, thinking that when Tony Go talked to me at Sand Harbor he had a slight Mexican accent.

  “I don’t know. I guess I never thought about it.”

  I sat there, gun on Marky, parked in the corner of the airport lot, thinking about it. I was looking for a man who was educated and was technica
lly savvy. He knew how to use Global Positioning System transmitters and understood the value of a new storage paradigm. And he had enough money that he could spend thousands of dollars to pursue millions.

  I dialed Emerson Baylor’s number. It was one in the morning. He’d be asleep. I hoped he didn’t turn off his ringer at night.

  The phone rang five times and then an answering machine picked up. At the tone I said, “Emerson, this is Owen McKenna. I’ve got a question I need to ask you. It’s important enough that if you don’t pick up the phone I’ll have to drive over there and get you out of bed. If you...”

  “Hello?” he said. His voice rattled with the thickness of sleep and old age and the dehydrating effects of brandy.

  “Owen McKenna calling,” I said again. “I need to ask a question.”

  “Yes. Of course. Let me get my glasses. Should I go get...” He coughed several times, then cleared his throat. “Owen McKenna? What did you say?”

  “A question. Are you awake?”

  “Yes. Yes. Of course. I’m awake. I’m awake.”

  “Your investment group,” I said.

  “Yes. Of course. My investment group.”

  “You said there are seven members.”

  “Yes. Seven members.”

  “Did any of them meet Michael Warner? Did any of them get a chance to hear his proposal?”

  “Well, let me think. Did any of them meet Mr. Warner. I don’t think so. He was... wait. Of course, they didn’t meet him. But they heard about his proposal from me. I told them, yes I did. At our monthly meeting. I remember now. We get together up at Harrah’s Forest Buffet. Each one of us tells whether we’ve found anything interesting. I told them about Michael Warner. After all, his proposal was interesting. Of course I also told them about the obstacles. Just like I told you. Warner wanted to be boss. Warner wanted fifty-one percent. It just wasn’t going to work. They understood. I can assure you they agreed with me. We didn’t do anything wrong in not making an offer to Michael Warner.”

  “Emerson, please understand that I’m not accusing you of anything.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course.”

  “Were any of them disappointed that your group wasn’t going to invest in Warner’s idea?”

  “No. Not that I recall. Of course, several of them were curious. But I wouldn’t say they were disappointed. They all agree that we need majority ownership and we need to appoint the CEOs.”

  I said, “Who are the members of your group?”

  “Our investment group? Well, there’s Bill Reed. I think I mentioned him. He’s into the restaurant business. And Bob Tripp up in Glenbrook, whom I’m sure you know. The media business has been good to him, hasn’t it? Then we have Conrad Menendez the orthodontist. And Joshua Fidlar of the Fidlar Hotels chain. Let’s see. Except for Menendez, the business interests of the others are everywhere. But if you can live in Tahoe and still run your business, well, why not?”

  “You’ve listed four. Including you, that makes five. Two left.”

  “Yes, of course. Sorry, I’m tired and when you get older, you... Oh, right, Raymond. How could I forget Raymond. He has his financial struggles, missed his last capital contribution, but he came up with the buy-in. I’m sure he’ll be back on his feet soon. So I shouldn’t judge, should I?”

  “Raymond’s last name?” I said.

  “Power. You probably know him. Local psychiatrist. Dr. Power.”

  I knew him, and I knew he had evaluated Silence for several years, and I knew he had a book on his shelf about GPS systems. And I remembered that Power had told me emphatically that Silence was a low-functioning, retarded, autistic kid, and her drawings didn’t add up to much, when all evidence suggested otherwise, when her teacher Henrietta and even her classmates thought she was smart.

  “Tell me, Emerson, was Dr. Power at the meeting where you told the others about Michael Warner’s proposal?”

  “Let me see. I don’t recall. We sat at the corner table up there at the top of Harrah’s. I was on the outside, Bill and Conrad were next to me. Bob was... Yes, of course, Raymond was in the corner. I remember because I had a hard time seeing his face against the light. Mt. Tallac was behind his head and the sun was on the mountain.”

  “How did Dr. Power respond when you told them about Warner’s proposal?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Emerson said.

  “Was he bored? Did he get excited?”

  “I think he was somewhat excited. Everybody was interested. Raymond asked some questions about it. I remember him wanting to know where Warner taught.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “Certainly. I said he was a professor at Sacramento State University. I remembered that because my niece went to Sac State. She’s from Colorado and she always wanted to go to school in California. Of course, Sac State isn’t what most people think of when they think of California’s sunny beaches and snowy mountains and such.”

  I thought of how Power had claimed Silence didn’t have much mental capacity. But his observations may have given him doubts about that conclusion. Especially after he learned of Michael Warner’s invention and, perhaps, plied him with drink and attention and learned that he was Silence’s father and maybe even learned that Michael had told Silence of his work.

  “Where does Power live?” I asked.

  “Raymond? I don’t see what that has to do with anything. You’re still looking for the girl, right?”

  “Yes. But I have a question I need to ask him.”

  Emerson hesitated. Perhaps he was still groggy with sleep. “I don’t know the street. He’s over on that meadow by the creek that flows out of Heavenly. Off Pioneer Trail up toward the mountain. You’d know which house is his by that barn he has out back, up by that little canyon. Raymond showed me. I’ll never forget those cliffs that drop away. They’re covered with loose rock. A guy could lose his life in a second if he weren’t careful. Say, you’re not going to bother him tonight, are you?”

  “No, no. I wouldn’t do that. I just thought I could catch him in the morning before he goes to work.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  “Drive!” I shouted to Marky.

  “Where?”

  “Into town. Hurry!”

  He started up and sped toward the parking lot exit.

  I dialed 9-1-1 as Marky turned out onto the highway and raced toward town.

  “Nine, one, one emergency,” a woman’s voice answered.

  “Owen McKenna calling. I have information on the kidnapped girl. I’ll give it to Commander Mallory. Have him call this number as soon as possible.” I didn’t bother to read it off because I knew they’d have it on their caller ID.

  I hung up and dialed Street. “Are you okay?” I said when she answered.

  “Yes. Diamond thought the men who had Silence must have gone out the back and you would have followed. But we didn’t see where you went. So we waited for you to call.”

  I didn’t have time to explain where I’d been, so I told her where I thought Power’s house was. “If you can’t find it, call back. I should know the house number in a few minutes.”

  “What should I do when we get there?” she said

  “Send Spot after me.”

  “How?”

  “Just open the car door and tell him to find me.” Then I said, “Hold on.” Marky was coming toward the “Y” intersection at 70 mph. “Turn right,” I said to him. “Head through town to Ski Run.” I spoke again to Street. “I’m back.”

  “What should I do after I send Spot out?”

  “Wait until I find you. If we save the girl, she will be traumatized. You’re the best chance we have tonight of keeping her calm. You may be the only woman there. Can Diamond talk?”

  “Yes,” she said, then added, “Be safe. I love you.”

  “Si?” Diamond said in my ear.

  “I told Street roughly where the girl is. I haven’t been there. The property backs up to Heavenly. There is a barn on the property. If you don’t
find us in or around the house, you might look in the barn. And, if it comes to that, I was told there is a cliff area up behind the place. So be careful. Tell Street, too.”

  “Got it.”

  I hung up and dialed what Tony Go had told me was his private number.

  It rang twice before he answered. “I thought you might call, Mr. McKenna, so I put your number in my phone.” He sounded as alert as if he’d just finished his morning coffee.

  “You said you’d like to help me.”

  “Offer still stands.”

  “I have an idea where the kidnapped girl is. I’m heading there now. I’ll know for certain in a few minutes. I could use some backup. It’s in South Lake Tahoe. Any chance you’ve got troops near the south shore?”

  “How many men do you need?” he said.

  “Eight or ten would help.”

  “Can you wait on hold? Let me make another call.” He put me on hold and was back twenty seconds later. “My men are assembling,” he said. “What’s your plan?”

  “The kidnapper has an old Dodge panel van. I think he’s at a house not too far from Pioneer and Ski Run Boulevard. I’ll give you the address as soon as I get there.”

  “What kind of backup do you want?”

  “I’d like a perimeter. He may try to escape in the van or on foot or in another vehicle. He may have the girl with him. I obviously don’t want him hurt. But it is imperative that any effort to stop him does not harm the girl.”

  “Understood. Want me to stay on while you go there?”

  “Yes. I’m going to put the phone down.” I told Marky, “Make a right turn on Ski Run. Hurry!”

  Marky skidded around the corner at high speed, tires screeching. The engine roared as he floored it up the street.

  I was trying to figure out the numbers, guessing which direction to go. “Turn on Pioneer,” I said, pointing. “I think our road will be just a few blocks in. We’ll head up toward the mountain.”

  Marky took it fast. I was glad there was no other traffic. We raced down Pioneer and found the cross street. Marky turned toward the mountain, sped up, then slowed as the street turned in a big S shape. There were three houses early on, then a stretch with nothing but forest on either side.