Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 16

by The Burnt House

  The best offense…

  Dudley took the paper from Holmes’s hand. “This is a legal name change.” He stared at Decker and then at his client. “What’s the prob—” He stopped himself.

  “What’s the problem?” Decker finished the sentence. “Yes, Mr. Dudley, we do have a problem. Tomas Martinez was born in Madrid, New Mexico, and died of pneumonia when he was eight years old.”

  “Oh, for God’s sakes!” Holmes bellowed. “Do you know how many Tomas Martinezes there are in New Mexico? It’s a very common name.”

  “I’m sure it is, but there’s only one Tomas Martinez that matches your Social Security number and date of birth.” Holmes was struck silent; his lawyer as well. “You want to tell us how you came to take Tomas Martinez’s identity?”

  Dudley moved in. “I’d like a few minutes alone with my client.”

  “Of course,” Decker said. “Just look up at those cameras when you’re ready to talk to me.”

  “OKAY,” HOLMES SAID after Decker returned. “This is the story and it’s the God’s honest truth. Are you ready to listen?”

  “I’m ready to listen.”

  “Okay. I’m going to tell you what’s going on with that and we can all go home.” The big man let out a big sigh. “I got into trouble when I was younger. I had a hard life, I had an old man who beat the crap out of me. I had an old lady who was a junkie. I was the oldest, so everyone gave me shit. I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m just giving you some background as to why I did what I did, okay?”

  “Sure,” Decker said.

  “I grew up in New Mexico, which, if you’ve ever been there, is a sparsely populated state with lots of wide-open space. Like I said, my old man was a con and my old lady was a junkie. I became a wild kid and there was no one around to stop me. Just me and a bunch of bums and the open road.”

  “Go on.”

  “No discipline, no nothing. I did some things that I’d like to forget.”

  “Like?”

  “Ah, c’mon! Do I have to spell it out?”

  “It would be nice.”

  “Jesus! Okay. Auto theft, B-and-Es, assaults. I got into a lot of fights. I was an angry, wild kid with no discipline. It finally caught up with me when I was eighteen. I did a few years in Roswell Correctional Center, and then they paroled me for good behavior. I came out a changed man, Lieutenant. This is the key. I became a completely changed man.”

  “A stay in prison can change a man.”

  “You better fucking believe it! I wasn’t ever going back inside again. Never ever! All I wanted was a fresh start and a couple of breaks. I moved to Madrid, which is only about ten miles south of Santa Fe. I only stayed there for a little while because it was too close to Santa Fe for me to be comfortable. Lots of bad memories. Tomas Martinez was dead. Tomas Martinez didn’t have a record. I figured what’s the harm? He was my fresh start.” Holmes’s shirt was sodden. “I worked construction in southern New Mex and all the way up in the Four Corners. I worked hard and kept my mouth shut. I had natural talent for woodworking. I learned all I could until I felt good enough to branch out on my own. I searched for good places to live, and at that time, Silicon Valley was the up-and-coming place. The men here…”

  Holmes laughed derisively and waved his hand.

  “They’ve got brainpower, I’m not going to deny that. They can do amazing things with chips, motherboards, and computers, but they don’t know a hammer from a screwdriver. It’s Nerd City. I figured it was a good place to make a kill—to do well in the construction trade. People were coming in all over the place, and housing was sprouting up like weeds. After my visit, I said to myself, ‘Buddy, you hit gold.’ So I changed my name to something more white-collar and set up shop. You look at my records and you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

  “So I have your permission to look at your records?” Decker asked.

  “No, you don’t,” Dudley answered. “He was speaking metaphorically.”

  “There’s nothing to see even if I gave you permission,” Holmes said.

  Decker was quiet for a moment. Like all good tall tales, this one had snippets of truth. “What was your given name?”

  Holmes’s eyes darted from side to side. If the guy had any smarts, he had to figure that this was going to be Decker’s next question.

  “Is that really necessary?” Holmes stalled. “I want to put that part of my life behind me.”

  “Yes, it is really necessary.”

  “Why?” Dudley asked. “Unless it has direct impact on the so-called charges that you’re going to present us with, it is irrelevant.”

  “It has to do with the truthfulness of your client, sir.” Decker faced Holmes. “What’s your given name?”

  Holmes was silent. Dudley filled in the silence. “If you want to know the answer to that question, come back with a warrant.”

  Decker held up the palm of his hand. “It’s rhetorical, Counselor. Because Mr. Holmes has to know that if he was in the prison system, his fingerprints would be on file.”

  Holmes reached for more tissues but had used them all up. Decker looked at the mounted video camera and asked for another box of Kleenex. “You know that sample tile that you gave prospective home buyer Oliver Scott day before yesterday? Well, it contained two beautiful right thumb- and index fingerprints.”

  Holmes looked green. “He was a cop?”

  “He was a cop and he’s looking at you as we speak. Now, when you were incarcerated way back when, we didn’t have the luxury of Automated Fingerprint Identification System, but your prints, of course, were filed even if they weren’t inputted into AFIS. The key is to know who you’re looking for. And we damn well knew who we were looking for. So all we had to do was call up Roswell, and bingo, we had a match. Now, do you want to tell me your given name?”

  “You don’t have to answer that, Ray,” Dudley told him. “Either charge him, Lieutenant, or we’re going home.”

  Decker regarded Holmes. “If I book you for murder, there’s no turning back. You’re in the system once again, Mr. Holmes. That means you’re going to spend the night in jail while your lawyer sleeps in his bed—”

  Holmes held up his hand. His face had become defiant. “If you know who I am, you tell me.”

  “Does the name Isabela Devargas ring a bell?”

  Holmes blanched and a downpour of water cascaded over his face.

  “That’s a woman’s name,” Dudley said.

  “That’s a dead woman’s name,” Decker answered.

  39

  DUDLEY SAID, “I need time alone with my client.”

  Decker ignored him. “We found her body, Mr. Holmes. She’s right there where you left her. If there were intervening circumstances, now’s the time to tell me.”

  “I told you, I need time alone with my client,” the lawyer insisted.

  “You can have as much time as you want once I book him for murder.”

  “Lieutenant, even if he talked to you now, you can’t use what he says.”

  “I can if he allows it.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” Holmes protested. “I did not kill her!”

  “So tell your lawyer that you want to tell me about it.”

  “Ray, shut up!” Dudley said.

  “You shut the fuck up,” Holmes snapped back. “It’s not your ass on the line. He’s right about one thing. You’re going to sleep in a bed tonight.”

  “You’re paying me to advise you, let me advise you. First, let me talk to you so I know what’s going on!” Dudley turned to Decker. “I repeat. I need to talk to my client in private.”

  “I’m trying to help you, Mr. Holmes.” Decker pulled out his coup de grâce and handed it to Dudley. “I’ve got a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Isabela Hernandez.” He turned to Dudley. “The woman was once Mr. Holmes’s sister-in-law.” Back to Holmes. “I haven’t executed the warrant yet. So if you want to talk to me, now’s the time.”

  “Don’t say a word!”


  “I didn’t touch the bitch,” Holmes said.

  “Then tell your lawyer that you want to tell me who did the murder. Tell your lawyer that you want to talk to me to clear things up.”

  “Don’t say another word, Ray. He’s lying to you!”

  “He doesn’t have a warrant for my arrest?”

  Dudley stammered, “Well, yes, but if you talk to him, it’ll only get you into trouble. That’s the game they use, Ray. They pretend to be sympathetic, but they’re not. Just let them go through the motions of booking you and I’ll have you out of here by tonight.”

  “Or maybe tomorrow morning, depending how the docket goes,” Decker added.

  “So that’s your advice? To let the bastard arrest me?”

  “He’s going to arrest you, Ray, whether you talk to him or not!”

  “But maybe not for murder,” Decker said.

  “He’s lying through his teeth,” Dudley said.

  Decker was lying through his teeth. The lawyer was absolutely right. But Holmes’s aversion to prison was stronger than logic. He crossed his arms. “I’m not going to talk to you, Lieutenant. But if you tell me what you know, I’ll correct your mistakes.”

  Holmes thought he was being very clever, but Dudley wasn’t going to give up without a fight. “If you correct him in front of me, he can take those words and twist them against you, Ray.”

  “I’ll take that chance.” Holmes sat back in his chair. “Go on. Tell me what you’ve heard.”

  “Okay, let’s give it a shot,” Decker said. “Thirty years ago, Beth and Manny Hernandez disappeared off the face of the earth. And I know that you, my friend, were christened Belize Hernandez. You are Manny’s brother and Beth’s brother-in-law. And just like you admitted, you’ve had a long history of trouble with the law.”

  “And the point is…?”

  “You were paroled thirty-two years ago for good behavior, about six months before your brother and sister-in-law disappeared. You moved to Madrid, New Mexico, and lived there for about three months, and eventually, you moved to Arizona, using the name Tomas Martinez. You hopped around the state for a while. You lived in Mesa, Yuma, Tucson, Phoenix.”

  “I don’t deny that, either. I worked construction. I was building up my skills. I was still that Latino from New Mexico and Arizona felt familiar to me.”

  “You were in Arizona for around five years—”

  “I was learning my trade. So what?”

  “Then we lost track of you,” Decker continued on. “Three years later you take the contractor’s licensing examination in San Jose using the name Raymond Holmes.”

  “I told you, I changed my name to Raymond Holmes to make me sound less Latino. And I did that legally. So far, all you have on me is stealing the name Tomas Martinez. And I told you I stole his name because I wanted to make a fresh start. Adios to Belize and hello to Tomas. So what?”

  “No problem, Belize, but here is where we have conflicting information. Before you made that move to Arizona, we have some unaccounted time for your whereabouts and that period happens to coincide with the disappearance of your brother and sister-in-law.”

  “You expect me to remember every minute for the last thirty-two years?” Holmes sneered. “I bet you can’t even remember what you had for dinner last Thursday.”

  “You’re right. I don’t remember what I had for dinner last Thursday. But I definitely would remember killing my sister-in-law.”

  “I already told you, I did not kill her!”

  “Well, other people and this warrant say you did.”

  Holmes bolted up and started to pace. “Who says I killed her?”

  “Sit down, Ray,” Dudley told his client.

  “Who says I killed Beth? I want to know a name!”

  “I can’t continue with the interview unless you’re seated,” Decker told him.

  Angrily, Holmes plopped himself back down. “Give me a name.”

  “The D.A. will give you all the exculpatory evidence that we have, but I can’t do that until you’re booked for murder—”

  “I didn’t kill her! What do you want from me!”

  “I want to know where you were from the time you moved from Madrid until you moved to Arizona.”

  “I don’t remember!”

  “We’re going around in circles,” Dudley said.

  “Would you like me to execute the warrant as is?” Decker said.

  Dudley said, “You’re going to do it anyway.”

  “Taz, let me handle this my way!” Holmes said. “I don’t remember where I was because I was too busy trying to survive. I drifted here and there.”

  “Did you drift here and there and visit your brother in L.A.?”

  Holmes clamped his mouth shut, his eyes moving from side to side. Dudley piped in, “Don’t answer anything you’re uncomfortable answering, Ray.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Decker lied. “We already know the answer to that one because we have witnesses.”

  “Who?” Holmes asked.

  “C’mon, Mr. Holmes. Did you really think that you could live with Beth and Manny and belong to their church and have them disappear and not have people remember you?”

  “I never belonged to their church!” Holmes replied.

  “Everyone knew you were staying with Beth and Manny.” Decker leaned in close. “Look, sir, I understand the fix you were in. You were an ex-con. No one would hire you because of your background. You couldn’t go back to Santa Fe to get some help from your old lady because there were scores of people mad at you for boosting their cars or stealing their TVs. Plus your old man had dropped a couple of innocent lives. So you went to visit your brother and sister-in-law in L.A. You figured they’d be good for something. You’re not going to deny, right?”

  Holmes said, “I got to go to the bathroom.”

  “No problem,” Decker said. “

  Again, they took a break just as Decker was on a roll. Still, it was good to get up and stretch one’s legs. When they returned to the interrogation room, Dudley was still trying to convince Holmes not to talk. But the big man was insisting that he could take good care of himself. He sat down, poured himself another glass of water, and said, “So I visited my brother. So what?”

  “So what?” Decker repeated. “The first ‘so what’ is that your brother and sister-in-law have been missing for over thirty years. The second ‘so what’ is that we’ve recovered Beth Hernandez’s murdered body, and the final ‘so what’ is that you’re our prime suspect in her murder.”

  “I didn’t do it!” Holmes blurted out. “Manny did it!”

  Dudley slapped his face. “Can I please talk to you alone for a minute, Ray?”

  “Absolutely, you can talk to him right after I book him for murder—”

  “I swear on my mother’s grave, I didn’t kill her!” Holmes shouted. “Manny killed her in a fit of rage. I was there! I saw it! That’s the fuck why I moved to Arizona. I needed to get far, far away.”

  Decker imagined the high fives Scott and Marge were exchanging after hearing Holmes’s admission to being at the scene of Beth’s death. But Decker was still far away from the full confession. He said, “Tell me what happened, Ray. It may bring the charges down from murder to accessory after the fact.”

  “Or it may not,” Dudley said. “I know I’m sounding like a broken record, but he’s lying, Ray. You fell into his leg trap. Don’t keep pulling on it or you’ll wind up an amputee.”

  “Taz, I swear I didn’t kill her. Why should I take the fall for my stupid brother’s mistake?”

  “You’re right, Mr. Holmes,” Decker soothed. “If Manny killed his wife, you shouldn’t take the fall. So tell me what happened.”

  Holmes held up his hand to silence his lawyer. “They got into an argument. He pushed her hard. She fell backward and hit her head. I wasn’t even in the room when it happened. I was chilling in the living room and they were going at it in the bedroom. She was a freak, man. She was screaming at my poor brother a
nd I think he just cracked.”

  “What were they arguing about?”

  “I told you already. I don’t know!”

  “Take a guess.”

  Holmes looked away. “Probably money.”

  “Maybe they were arguing about the money that Manny had taken from the church funds to get you back on your feet?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do, Ray,” Decker said. “We’ve talked to people who were there. Alyssa Bright Mapplethorpe, Christian Woodhouse…members of the church. They remember you and your brother and Beth very well.”

  Holmes said, “I did not take any money and I did not kill Beth! Period!”

  “I didn’t say you took it, Ray. I said that your brother took it.”

  “Jesus!” Holmes gnashed his teeth and mopped up his brow. “First of all, Manny borrowed it. Second of all, if he borrows money and doesn’t pay it back, how is that my fault?”

  “It isn’t,” Decker said. “So tell me your side of the story. Because I have lots of others who are telling me their side and it doesn’t look good for you.”

  “Okay, okay.” Holmes wiped his face, though he wasn’t sweating nearly as much as before. Dealing with the truth, even partial truths, seemed to calm him down. “This is what happened in a nutshell. I needed a place to crash. My baby brother invited me to L.A., but his bitch wife wasn’t at all happy about it. Even though I never did anything to her, even though I stayed out of their way, even though I minded my own fucking business, that bitch just had it in for me. Finally, Manny couldn’t take it anymore. He said he loved me, but it just wasn’t working out and I’d have to leave. I told him it was okay. I told him I had a buddy in Arizona and he could probably give me a crash pad for a couple of weeks until I could find construction work there. I didn’t want to work construction in L.A. Too many damn greasers. I am not a fucking Mexican. I am an American citizen from New Mexico and I’ll be damned if I’d work side by side with a bunch of illegals.”