The Fourth Time is Murder pc-15
Page 32
The girl’s face crumpled in anguish again, and Estelle found it difficult to determine how much of it was finely honed acting skills.
“But I’m paralyzed,” CJ Vallejos pleaded. Her voice sank to a whimper. “I may never walk again.”
“That’s true,” Estelle said. “And the more you cooperate with us, the easier your road will be. You think hard on that during the next few hours, CJ.” She turned to Francis, who was tactfully scrutinizing the wall tiles. “Thanks, querida.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” Francis said, and she reached out a hand to each cheek, cupping his face. She rocked his head gently and their eyes locked, blocking out the rest of the world.
“Madelyn and I are going to get something to eat,” she said after a moment.
They left the hospital via the emergency room, walking the half-dozen steps to where Estelle had parked the county car just outside of the ambulance lane. As if their minds were in sync, they both stopped, one on each side of the car. Estelle leaned against the door, folding her hands together on the roof. She didn’t say anything, and for a long moment Madelyn stood silently, watching her.
“Can I ask a question?” the writer said.
“Sure.” Estelle pushed away from her trance and opened the car door.
They both settled into the car. “This is the first time you’ve actually seen this young woman, isn’t it? Other than a fleeting glimpse when she blew by us at eighty-five miles an hour on the interstate. And that seems like a lifetime ago, I have to say.”
“Yes. We have a picture of her. That’s it,” Estelle replied.
“Is that the way it usually is?”
“Usually?”
“When you have a case like this. You’re chasing a stranger?”
“Actually, it’s the opposite. Most of the time, we’re working with folks we’ve known for years. Joe Smith down the street makes a mistake, and we become involved. Or someone steals a load of bricks. That sort of thing.”
“That’s not what happened this time, and it’s not what happened last year, is it?” The “last year” didn’t need an explanation. Madelyn used the expression, and right on cue, Estelle’s ribs under her right arm twanged.
“No.”
“So every once in a while,” Madelyn Bolles said, “what happens out there in the real world taints the quiet, pastoral paths of Posadas. How’s that for poetic.”
“Not bad,” Estelle laughed. She started the car and pulled it into gear.
“What happens now?”
“Now, we hope CJ Vallejos makes it through the next week or so. It’s going to be rough for her. And I don’t mean just the physical injuries. And tomorrow, when the banks are open, we’ll get some answers. I hope some information will be forthcoming from Calgary. We’ll see what tidbits are in her address book, or in her computer files. We go from there.”
“Do you think she’ll actually go to jail? When she’s all cleaned up and looking gorgeously vulnerable, do you think a jury will be able to send her away?”
“That’s not my province,” Estelle said. “Thank heavens.”
“You don’t worry about that happening? Her getting off?”
“No.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit. Not an iota, Madelyn.” She smiled, starting to relax. “What do you care to eat?”
“Leftovers?”
Estelle frowned, and Madelyn added, “At your house. I know what’s there, you know. And you need to go home. That’s the fastest way to get you there.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
At 4:10 p.m. on April 10, a Grand Jury returned an indictment against Consuela Juanita Vallejos for second-degree murder, conspiracy, and intent to defraud. By midmorning of April 11, CJ Vallejos agreed to a plea bargain on a lesser charge of involuntary manslaughter in full satisfaction of all charges. However, loath to slap a sentence at that very moment, District Judge Lester Hobart set April 22 for sentencing but continued bail at a quarter of a million cash only, after commenting that “despite the wheelchair, young lady, I consider you a flight risk.”
Shortly before two that afternoon, Undersheriff Estelle Reyes-Guzman’s office phone rang. For two hours, she had been lost in a grant proposal that County Manager Leona Spears had unearthed, the proposal driven by the current wave of Homeland Security hysteria.
“Guzman,” she said.
“I love the way you say that, my dear,” Madelyn Bolles said.
Delighted, Estelle leaned back, tossing her pencil on the desk. “Well, good morning, Madelyn. Where are you?”
“Philadelphia. Listen, I just talked with your court clerk. Involuntary manslaughter? However does that work?”
“Well…”
“I mean, what, did she accidentally pour beer down the poor man’s throat?”
“Maybe she was just trying to wash the dirt off his face,” Estelle laughed. “These things happen, Madelyn. My favorite was one time when a rock-solid DWI case was reduced to a charge of faulty muffler.”
“But that’s another story,” Madelyn said. “Listen, speaking of stories, I’m going to e-mail you a draft of the article, along with a raft of photos.…We’re not sure which ones we’ll use just yet, but I wanted you to see what’s coming.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I know. But I am doing that, so there you are. I wanted to double-check a couple of things with you before I put a wrap on this. No other indictments are anticipated?”
“You mean against anyone else? No.”
“The brother in Calgary?”
“Not as far as we’re concerned. It looks like all he did was mail documents for his sister so that they would have a Canadian postmark. I’m not sure he even had an inkling what was in the envelopes. CJ found Canadian Publications Limited on the Internet, and just used the name and address. They had nothing to do with any of this.”
“So it was the young lady’s scam from top to bottom. I have to wonder how she hatched the scheme in the first place.”
“It started with the DIAD-that’s the digital signature gadget. She stole it from a legitimate courier truck during an unguarded moment. The driver had gone into a store with a package, and left the gadget on the console of his truck.”
“And she happened by,” Madelyn said.
“That’s it. Just impulse. Once she had it, the rest of the idea was easy. It’s a matter of trust, you see. You surround yourself with the right accoutrements and people accept you.”
“So she didn’t actually use the thing to access records or anything like that.”
“No. It was just a stage prop.”
“The poor boyfriend. I bet he didn’t have a clue what he was getting into.”
“Well, I think he did, Madelyn. At least he played the role convincingly. And by the way, the fourth check was bogus, just as we guessed it would be. The bank in Cruces that issued the first cashier’s checks had no record of it. And if you compare the fourth check side by side with one of theirs, you’ll see the difference. CJ made a pretty good copy on that computer of hers. Not good enough to fool a bank examiner, but plenty good to fool someone who wanted to be fooled.”
“And this was the prototype scam,” Madelyn said. “I remember you calling it that when we talked earlier. Her first dance.”
“That’s right. Sucker in the victim by the apparent good fortune of a neighbor. It’s an interesting strategy.”
“And except for the deer wandering out into the road, the fourth time might have worked,” Madelyn said. “Anyway, I may be bothering you from time to time over the weekend, but I don’t think I have any other questions for you. I need to chat with Leona here in a few minutes, but that’s just for fun. And I need to talk with Mr. Hollywood Sheriff for just a moment.”
“Leona will love hearing from you, but Bobby is out with Bill Gastner at the moment. Someone hijacked a semi loaded with cattle headed for auction, and the two sheriffs past and present are out talking with Her
b Torrance, the rancher involved.”
“My God. They still rustle cattle?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Will he mind if I reach him on his cell?”
“Sure. But go ahead and do it anyway.”
“I have a great quote from him, by the way. I wasn’t going to use it, but if he gives me a hard time, I will.”
“Dare I ask?”
Madelyn laughed. “Indeed you may. Sheriff Hunk told me that the only thing really wrong with having so many women working for him was that about once a month, you guys tend to use the siren too often.”
“Wonderful. I’ll remember that he said that. But by all means, use that one. You should talk Jackie Taber into doing a cartoon with that in mind.”
Just a tiny, brief hesitation told Estelle what she needed to know. “Ah…I already have,” Madelyn said. “My editor just loves it, and wonders why we haven’t seen more of her work. So who knows what will develop.”
“You hire her away from us and you’re toast,” Estelle said. “I had no idea that Jackie was so good at keeping secrets.”
“And we’re using a couple of Linda’s photographs, too.”
“Ditto more toast.”
“Anyway, the real reason I called…I’ll be visiting my aunt next month, so beware. May I stop by?”
“Of course. We look forward to it. Bring your aunt with you.”
“Well, we’ll see. Promise me no ride-alongs,” Madelyn said. “My nerves can’t take any more. I want one of those wonderful ‘long bouts of peace’ you spoke about when we first met.”
“I’ll work on that,” Estelle said.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-223a75-8322-8546-718e-1c5d-6bc3-658963
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 23.09.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.36, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Steven F. Havill
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