Unbearably Deadly (Roger and Suzanne South American Mystery Series Book 9)

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Unbearably Deadly (Roger and Suzanne South American Mystery Series Book 9) Page 18

by Jerold Last


  Chapter20. Exploring the mine

  Gretchen waved off the helicopter as soon as it had disgorged its load of passengers and equipment. We stood up and lifted our arms to show her where we were. Gretchen immediately took charge of the technical crew she had brought with her. She gave them a few last minute orders before the entire group, one senior FBI special agent and four armed technicians, walked over to us taking a circuitous route to conceal their destination in case any of the illegal miners were watching the TV monitor.

  When they got close enough to be heard in a soft tone of voice Gretchen spoke directly to Agent Culpepper. “Good work, Jason. We’ll head directly to the mine. Suzanne can show us the hidden entrance. Why don’t you figure out what we need to feel safe in the mine? Then arrange to secure this clearing so the technicians can work without having to worry about being attacked. Don’t be concerned about the helicopter. I just sent it to the Lodge a couple of minutes away from here where it will be safe if any visitors show up at this clearing.”

  Culpepper started to walk down the hill, then turned back to the group. “Why don’t you join me on guard detail, Roger. I think two of us can cover the entire area of this clearing a lot better than I can do it by myself.”

  “After seeing your skills level in the forest here, I think I’m honored you would trust me to help guard the perimeter,” I said to the FBI agent.

  “After what I saw you do bare handed to three armed men, especially the Park Ranger you busted up, last night, I didn’t think I had to ask you whether you’ve ever killed a man. I don’t think I’d want to mess with you at close quarters. Maybe I’d take a chance a couple of hundred yards away with a rifle and a telescopic sight, but not anywhere close where you could get your hands on me. And everything happens at close quarters in a forest as thick as this one around the clearing.”

  We had shifted who was in charge here in the wilderness, but neither of us cared. “I’ll take the area from the top of the hill over the mineshaft to the fire pit near the middle of the clearing,” directed Culpepper. “Are you OK with securing everything else, Roger?”

  “Sounds good to me,” I replied.

  Jason and I found some convenient cover where we could clearly see our assigned areas, as well as the forest surrounding them. We were careful to conceal ourselves so we wouldn’t be spotted by anyone at the edge of the forest coming toward the clearing, but where we could see each other clearly enough to avoid any friendly fire accidents. I settled down for a long boring stretch of guard duty, where I would change position every five minutes to avoid any blind spots. Checking the magazine in my Baby Glock, I cocked the pistol, holding it loosely by my side in the “cocked and locked” position with the safety on and my finger well away from the trigger.

  In the meantime Suzanne had described to Gretchen and the technicians how the concealed opening to the cave worked. Gretchen decided to use the direct approach, with the highest priority being turning the camera off before starting to collect evidence. She handed a couple of pairs of latex gloves to Suzanne. “No latex allergies, I hope?” she inquired.

  “I use them all the time in the lab,” replied Suzanne.

  “OK, then,” said Gretchen. “Suzanne’s job is to remove the screening brush from the front of the mineshaft as quickly and carefully as possible. Try to pile it so someone can put it back as close to how it originally was as possible after we’re completely done here. I’ll secure the video camera. The rest of you head on into the mine and put anything that’ll fit into a labeled bag as evidence. Anything you find that’s too big for a bag gets fingerprinted immediately. Connie, you take care of all the necessary fingerprinting as soon as anyone finds something and calls you over. Make a sketch of the inside of the mine you can use like a map. Mark each location you take a fingerprint from as closely as you can to the precise location. You can match the locations to some sort of numerical code so we can reconstruct where the fingerprints came from later. We’ll need all of that when this case eventually goes to trial.

  “The rest of you collect and tag all the evidence you can bag up. After you’ve got the brush safely out of the way, Suzanne, come on down into the mine, find a flashlight, and explore the shaft as far back as you think is necessary so we don’t miss any important evidence that’s not obvious from the entrance. Be careful, everybody, there could be booby traps!”

  The entire group donned latex gloves. They were into the mineshaft itself in less than three minutes. Gretchen had picked up the camera, switched it off, and placed it in a large plastic bag she’d brought with her for just this task. She placed it on the ground just inside the entrance to indicate where she wanted the bagged and tagged evidence put as it was being collected. Then she joined the other technicians collecting and bagging items that might yield fingerprints or might have evidentiary value for future legal actions. She carefully and meticulously photographed each object where it was lying and after it was bagged and tagged to preserve a record of the potential chain of custody for possible court proceedings.

  It took this well-trained group less than half an hour to complete Phase 1 of the task. As it happened, Suzanne made what was either the most important or second most important discovery, a laptop computer with several replacement battery packs about 20 yards back from the entrance to the mine. Gretchen was practically drooling in anticipation of seeing what might be lurking on its hard drive, especially if it was collecting all of the data from the surveillance video camera.

  After a quick look around the shaft, Gretchen, Suzanne, and two of the technicians exited from the mine. Gretchen spoke into her satellite phone, recalling the helicopter from the Lodge. They waited impatiently for the transport craft to arrive. Gretchen explained to Suzanne that the remaining armed technicians, both well trained FBI agents, would continue searching the shaft for anything that might have been missed. They’d also set up portable floodlights to facilitate searching deeper in the mine, and secure the premises until they were relieved.

  A few minutes later the helicopter landed uneventfully. Barbara Kaufman, wearing latex gloves, which seemed to be the current local fashion statement, jumped out carrying several hard plastic milk crates and jogged over to join us. “Where are the goodies?” she asked.

  “Just inside the mine shaft, on the right,” replied her sister.

  Barbara climbed up the hill and filled three crates with plastic bags containing evidence, plus a fourth crate containing the larger items that had been chosen to be likely sources of fingerprints, especially the mining tools. She scampered back to the helicopter carefully packing the crates into a secure compartment for the trip back to the Lodge. A few moments later she gave Gretchen a thumbs-up signal.

  Five minutes later Suzanne and I, the Kaufman sisters, and two technicians were boarding the helicopter for the short ride back to the Lodge. Gretchen had left Jason Culpepper back at the clearing in charge of securing the mine and the rest of the crime scene site until reinforcements could be found. Jason had retrieved all three of our bikes and loaded them on the helicopter, so things were pretty crowded onboard.

  “The usual extra hands we’d use for a job like this would be the local police,” Gretchen explained. “In this case I’m not sure how much we can trust any of the remaining Park Rangers who aren’t in jail, and they’re the local police. I don’t think we can trust the staff at the Lodge either. I think we may have to borrow a few of Anchorage’s finest, and they’re almost 250 miles away from the Denali Park entrance by car. That means they can’t be here until late tonight at the earliest. We may do just as well making do with what we’ve got here already. That means the two technicians we left behind in the cave, Barbara, Jason, and the two of you.

  “Six of us plus the pilot are too many passengers for this helicopter, but it’s only a two or three minute flight to the Lodge so we’ll bend the rules. We’ll have to leave three of us at the Lodge before flying back to Anchorage. I have to head back to our offices with the two technician
s on board here to start processing evidence, search warrants, John Doe arrest warrants, and reports. I need to request a replacement for Ed Barclay who, you’ll be happy to hear, is currently still sitting in jail. By the way, Ed did let something slip you’ll be interested in, Roger. He as much as admitted he was the one who hired the two miners who attacked you in the bar in Denali. He wanted to scare you and Suzanne off so nobody would investigate what was going on in the Park. Bad move on his part, as it turned out! We also have one more interesting toy on board this helicopter to demonstrate, which Barbara will do as soon as we land.”

  We were on the ground near the Lodge in less than five minutes feeling a lot like sardines crowded tightly into a can, four in seats and three scrunched together on the floor. The helicopter door stayed shut. Gretchen carefully removed the large plastic bag containing the video camera and the laptop computer Suzanne had found from the makeshift evidence compartment. She carefully handed both to Barbara. “OK, Sis, do your magic.”

  Nobody complained about the cramped quarters. We all crowded around Barbara to watch her translate all of the hard work of the last few hours into the names of suspects. She took a small box out of the evidence compartment and removed a brush and a small container of fingerprint powder. The FBI agent carefully dusted the outside surfaces of the two items with powder. Fingerprints appeared as if by magic. She carefully lifted the visible prints onto prepared plastic cards, added plastic covers to preserve the replicas, and marked the cards with the source of the fingerprints, the date, and her initials.

  Barbara pulled her own laptop computer and a small portable scanner out from under the seat, and turned both of them on. A minute or two later she was scanning the fingerprint cards with the scanning device. The results were recorded directly onto her computer. At the same time the scanner was sending copies of the fingerprints to the national AFIS database for matching.

  “There’s a pretty good chance we’ll get some matches,” Barbara explained. “All of the Park employees, Rangers and concession staff, have to be fingerprinted for background checks, so we’ll have all of their prints on several national databases.”

  It didn’t take long. Within less than five minutes her computer was receiving e-mails with the names to go with the fingerprints. This went on for a while before all the “you got mail” dings ended.

  Barbara studied the results. “We’ve got three firm IDs from the prints I could lift from the computer and the camera so far. Would anyone like to guess who?”

  “Two of the concession staffers and one Park Ranger,” guessed Suzanne.

  “That’s almost too easy,” countered Barbara. “Which ones?”

  “The Ranger is probably Ed Farrell or Manfred Fleming,” replied Suzanne. “Remember, we have good reason to believe the bear hunters and the illegal gold miners didn’t know about each other, so there shouldn’t be any overlap between the two groups. As far as the staff is concerned, I don’t know.”

  “How about you, Roger?” continued Barbara. “Any guesses on the staff?”

  “I have a pretty good idea about one of them. They needed a good way to transport the gold ore from the mine to the entrance of the park over a rarely traveled dirt and gravel road without raising anyone’s suspicions. I would guess they needed a bus driver in on this conspiracy. My nominee would be Steve Schuck.”

  “Not bad,” replied Barbara. “You’re absolutely right about the Park Ranger, Suzanne. It’s Ed Farrell. The staffers are Steve Schuck and Desiree Schultz, so a tip of the hat to Roger, too.”

  “Enough fun and games, children,” announced Gretchen. “Let’s get back to work. Barbara, I need a judgment call. Do you have enough help for backup to make the arrests if I bring Jason with me to Anchorage or do you need more agents to make sure nobody gets hurt? If you want more help, I can be back here with a couple of cops from Anchorage by supper time.”

  Barbara thought a bit before she smiled. “If we count Roger and Suzanne as equal to any three regular FBI agents, and we’ve seen plenty of evidence we should, I’d count on just them as backup. We should be able to arrest Desiree between the three of us. Why don’t you pick up Jason on your way to Anchorage and drop him off at the other end of the bus line? The bus driver has no other place to go. We’ll arrest him if he’s out here or Jason can get him at the other end this evening if the bus has left already. As far as Ranger Farrell is concerned, where can he go to hide? We can arrest him whenever it’s convenient.”

  Someone opened the helicopter door to let three of us out, passed Suzanne and me the bicycles, made a comment about finally being able to sit down in a real seat, and waved goodbye. They were in the air heading west almost immediately. We headed back to the Lodge building.

  Chapter21. The beginning of the end

  Barbara took charge as we walked toward the Lodge pulling our rental bikes along with us. Off to our right was the creek, with occasional optimistic tourists sprinkled along the banks on both sides panning the sand and gravel they hoped would turn into gold. To our left was the Lodge, pretty much deserted between meals and scheduled buses. In the distance in front of us were the awe-inspiring mountains of the Brooks Range. Closer in was the huge expanse of forest and tundra characteristic of Denali National Park.

  “Let’s drop the bicycles off first,” suggested Barbara.

  We followed her obediently, and were able to return three bicycles when we started with two without anyone asking us about the discrepancy.

  We walked back to the front of the Lodge. “What’s the layout here?” asked the FBI agent. “How many doors or windows are there in the Lodge building large enough to get out through?”

  I thought briefly about the layout. “There are two doors, this one in front and another in back. The Lodge has large windows on the same sides as the doors, but I don’t think they open and close. I haven’t seen the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room windows are too small for Desiree to crawl through. There’s no way out through the side walls.”

  Suzanne added, “I’ve been in the women’s bathroom. It has small windows, too small for an adult to climb out through.”

  “Sounds good,” mused Barbara. “Desiree doesn’t know me except from check-in. We can assume they’re suspicious of both of you after the attack on you by the local law ended up with a couple of Park Rangers and an ATF agent in jail and you two still enjoying your vacation. So, I’ll go in first and get into a position between her and the back door so she can’t run out that way when she spots either of you two. Suzanne, stay outside at one of the corners of the Lodge where you can keep an eye on one side of the building and the back, just in case she runs that way. If she gets that far, use whatever force you think is reasonable to bring her down and keep her down until I get there to make the arrest.

  “Roger, give me two minutes to get settled into position. If Desiree isn’t there I’ll come out and tell you. If I haven’t come out in two minutes come on in and walk over to her. Be careful to stay between her and the front door, just in case. If she starts talking to you I’ll come over and make the arrest. If she runs, take her down however you can. If she pulls a gun or a knife, let me do the shooting if any needs to be done. Is everybody ready?”

  We both nodded. The FBI agent walked into the Lodge as I checked my watch. Two minutes later she was still inside and Suzanne had established her position across from the northwest corner of the Lodge watching two sides of the building. I walked into the Lodge.

  Barbara was looking at some cheap tourist items on a display rack near the back door. From 20 feet away I could see T-shirts, caps, and other tourist junk, all illustrated with the Denali logo of twin snow-covered peaks. Desiree was at the counter to my left, ringing up a purchase for two elderly guests at the lodge. I stopped to look more closely at a jar of Genuine Denali Honey while I waited for the elderly couple to finish their transaction and get out of the potential danger zone.

  The Genuine Denali Honey had been made in China according to the small print o
n the bottom of the label pasted to the back of the jar. I took that to be yet another argument about the importance of properly screening the concessionaires for honesty and integrity. The older couple headed for the front door as I put down the honey bottle and slowly walked over to Desiree, still standing behind the cash register. She didn’t react to my being there any more than she would have to any other guest. I took a long look at her. All I could see was a very pretty All-American girl type with long, well toned, legs in khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt illustrated with the familiar Denali logo.

  “Hey, Desiree. Is there a party tonight?” I asked innocently.

  “Yes, there is,” she answered automatically. “It’s going to be a big one.”

  “Has the tour bus from Denali come in yet?”

 

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