The Bisti Business

by Don Travis

  “Sit down, Lando,” Del said. “I’m sorry, but the courtroom is open to the public. Your father and brother can enter just like anyone else. But you don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to.”

  Lando slumped back into his chair. “I don’t want to talk to either one of them.”

  “Did Dana tell you about Aggie?” I asked.

  “About trying to bribe him to influence me?” Lando’s voice hardened. “Well, Dana did his job. He had to die for it, but he did his job.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s no way in hell I’ll let that son-of-a-bitching father of mine have De Falco now. Not after what he did to Dana.” Lando stood again. “That’s enough. Take me back to my cell.” He smacked the table with his hand and yelled for the guard.

  “Son, you need to stay a bit longer. Mr. Dahlman has to prepare you for this afternoon’s hearing.”

  I nodded to Del and took my leave. I had lots to do before four o’clock rolled around.

  I CONTACTED Jazz and had him describe once again what he and Henry had observed out on the rim of Black Hole the other night. Then I phoned Gaines and told him about my surveillance of the stranded aircraft, informing him two men had spent some time wiping down the plane after they discovered they were grounded. Gaines’s opinion was they were probably drug smugglers, but he promised to send someone to check it out. He also agreed to contact the Pied Pipers and get all the information he could on whoever rented the craft. But after I went over what Lando had told me and suggested he collect DNA from the Alfano family, he balked.

  “You must be crazy. Those people are connected. I’ve already had calls from the agents in charge of Los Angeles and San Francisco. Besides, what’s my probable cause? The word of an unstable young man who’s suspected of murdering two people?”

  “You could expedite Lando’s DNA tests. You probably already have the test results on Dana Norville’s body, so compare the two. They won’t match, but there will be enough markers to show the rapist was a close relative. Then you have probable cause.”

  “Vinson, you know that semen deteriorates rapidly. There might not even be DNA available from a body lying out on the desert for a couple of weeks.”

  “Dana was well protected from the elements,” I argued. “And sometimes the dry desert air preserves things. At least we can try.”

  “I’ve already sent samples, but the results are not back yet. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “There’s one other thing. Lando said Dana got a lot of calls the last week they were together that he wouldn’t explain. I recall seeing another number on Dana’s cell phone record. Have you been able to trace it?”

  “It’s a prepaid throwaway cell. Not registered to anyone. It’s going to take time to trace the calls to the source, and then we still won’t know much.”

  “It had an LA area code, as I remember.”

  “Yes, and that’s all we know about it.”

  I thought for a moment. “I assume the US attorney’s going to oppose granting bail this afternoon.”

  “That’s my recommendation—regardless of what you say.” Irritation made his voice harsh.

  “Good. That’s what I recommend too.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Who would Lando be released to if he made bail?”

  I left him thinking that one over and touched base with Charlie back in Albuquerque. He had the name of the pilot who rented the Cub, but the name meant nothing. The description was vague and could have fit about anyone of middle years. The pilot’s license cited on the rental contract was phony. That made me wonder exactly how safe we were from terrorists soaring around overhead in small aircraft.

  Next I reached Dix Lee, and she agreed to have Kinkaid’s stun gun examined for prints in the battery compartment and on the batteries themselves. After that, I stopped by the Bean Bowl to eat and do some thinking. Given that Alfano used a stun gun on Dana, I suspected he had supplied the weapon to Kinkaid. And I was pretty damned sure Alfano was the second man in my motel room that night. Had he intended to harm his younger son if I had delivered him up? It was a stretch, but not out of the realm of possibility.

  The worst part was that Anthony Alfano might get away with it. His money and a battery of high-powered attorneys would make it difficult for Gaines to obtain his DNA—through the court system, anyway. That left me with one additional job.

  Lady Luck was kind to me; Alfano and Aggie had just finished a late lunch in the Marriott’s dining room. I sat down uninvited, earning a look of curiosity from Aggie and irritation from his father. I waited patiently as Alfano signed a credit card slip while a busboy cleared the table of everything except their half-empty wineglasses.

  “I just left Lando.” I paused to gauge Alfano’s reaction. There was none. He stared at me blandly. If he was worried about what I might have learned from his son, it didn’t show. Of course, he had spent a lifetime developing a poker face for his high-stakes business dealings. “There might be a problem at the hearing this afternoon.”

  “What?” Alfano lifted his glass and took a sip of white wine.

  “He doesn’t want you present. Either of you.”

  Alfano’s eyes didn’t flicker. “He’s just embarrassed over the situation he’s gotten himself into. That will pass. In the meantime, I’m going to be there to support my son, whether or not that support is welcome. And I imagine Aggie feels the same way.”

  “I don’t know, Papa. That will put more pressure on him, and he’s pretty fragile right now. Maybe it would be better to let the lawyer handle things. We can see him after he’s calmed down.”

  “Nonsense, we’re going to be right there so he can see he still has his family’s support. I don’t want him thinking we abandoned him in his time of need. Even if I did warn him about hanging around with that faggot. It invited trouble. Dana finally propositioned the wrong guy and paid the price for his perversion.”

  “Down at Bisti Wilderness?” I asked. “Out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “You’re the investigator. You tell me. Right now, we need to get ready for the hearing.”

  His son surprised us both. “You go on. I’ll be along later.”

  “You’ll be right at my side in the courtroom, Aggie. No argument.” Alfano stood, took a final sip of his wine, and stalked out of the dining room.

  “He’s right, you should be there.”

  “But—”

  “You need to see Lando’s reaction to him for yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Trying to buy one half of a loving couple to influence the other half for your own personal aims was despicable. It was bound to fail, you know.”

  “Why? The biggest risk was I wouldn’t get my $100,000’s worth.”

  “But that was nothing compared to what your father did.” Aggie said nothing. I had his full attention. “The irony of it is that because of your father, Lando’s going to see he never gets De Falco Wines, at least not with your mother’s money.”

  “What? When did he tell you that?”

  “An hour ago, right after he told me your father went to see Dana in LA before they left California. He offered him money to leave, get away from Lando, and never come back. Dana refused. They had words and then started scuffling. It ended in rape, Dana’s rape.”

  “Bullshit. That’s impossible.”

  “Why? Because Dana was big enough to defend himself, or because Anthony Alfano wouldn’t do that to another man?”

  “Both. My father’s not gay.”

  “Come on, it wasn’t sex. It was a demonstration of power. To show his son’s lover he could do anything he wanted to him. As to overpowering the kid, your father used a stun gun to render him helpless and then did what he wanted. Used a stun gun—does that sound familiar?”

  “That’s what happened to you.”

  “Right. And there were two people in my room that night. One I never saw clearly or heard speak. He only whispered. Th
e police have that stun gun, and I asked Sergeant Lee to check the inside to see if there’s another set of fingerprints besides Kinkaid’s.”

  Aggie’s hand trembled as he took a sip of water. He set the glass down hard, spilling some.

  “And remember, Dana was raped either before or after he was strangled to death. There was DNA inside him.”

  “The old man’s not stupid. If he did what you say—and he didn’t—he wouldn’t leave DNA on the body.”

  “Perhaps he thought the body would never be found, at least until it was too late to recover anything useful. We only found Dana because that Honcho kid had his cell phone.”

  Aggie shook his head. “No way. He wouldn’t take a chance like that. Besides, he was in California at the time.”

  “Are you sure of that? I called a few times, and Gilda said he was out of town.”

  “He’s been traveling some, that’s true. But he was in touch by phone.”

  “Cell phone? How do you know where someone is when he calls you on one of those? He could be in Timbuktu or the room next door.”

  “You’re wrong, BJ.”

  “How much do you believe what you’re saying?”

  “Without question.”

  “Are you willing to back that statement up with action?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I pointed to his father’s wineglass. “There are fingerprints and DNA on that. We can take it to Gaines for comparison.”

  Aggie’s nostrils flared. “Go ahead, make a fool of yourself.”

  “Good, but you’ll have to attest it’s a glass your father drank from. Are you that certain?”

  “Fucking A.”

  I called a waiter and asked for a couple of bags. After he brought them, I held the stem with a napkin and used my pen, a Sharpie fine point, to initial the base of the glass, note the time, date, and restaurant. Then I asked both the waiter and Aggie to put their initials beside mine. I tore paper from the pocket notebook I carry and wrote out a brief statement for the waiter, attesting that he had served wine in this glass to Mr. Alfano. Aggie and I both signed the statement as witnesses. For good measure, I took a snapshot Aggie carried of his father and had the waiter initial that as well. Then I carefully placed the glass in one bag and the statement and photo in the other.

  As we got up to leave, Aggie halted. “I don’t feel right about this.”

  “If you’re right and I’m wrong, all it will do is clear your father. If not—”

  I left the rest of that thought hanging in the air as I walked away with the evidence.

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  Chapter 35

  I SAT in my car and watched the Alfanos exit a green Ford Taurus and walk toward the courthouse entrance. If they noticed me, they didn’t let on. Alfano’s flat-footed gait irritated me for some reason. Damn, if only Gaines had gotten back to me with information on that blind cell phone, I might have been able to put a crimp in somebody’s tail. The thought hauled me up short. Alfano was far too sharp to keep the thing on him. That’s why they were called throwaway phones, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  I got out of the rental, dialed the number of the telephone that had made so many calls to Dana’s number shortly before his death, and fell in behind them, straining to hear a ring and praying the instrument had not been set on vibrate.

  “Yeah?” A rough voice answered, taking me by surprise. I recognized it even though I had been in an electrical fog the last time I heard it. I halted and turned away from the two men walking in front of me.

  “Hello, Kinkaid.”

  “Y’all got the wrong number, partner. Who’s this, anyway?”

  I pressed a key on my cell phone and began recording the conversation. The expensive little gadget was about to pay off.

  “I have the right number, Kinkaid. This is Vinson, the guy you roughed up in the Farmington motel. I just wanted you to know Alfano gave you up.”

  “Dunno what y’all’s talking about. Who the fuck is Alfano?”

  “It’s too late for that bullshit. The police have the stun gun with your prints on the outside and his on the batteries,” I lied. “That puts the two of you together. If that’s not enough, you didn’t get all the prints wiped off the Piper Cub out on the mesa. Not only that, you rented a car for him, and I saw him in that green Taurus not five minutes ago. The police already have the lease you signed when you rented it. Both of your prints are on that too. The best thing you can do is turn yourself in to the nearest police station.”

  “Think y’all’s scaring me? Forget it. I was hauling water for the mob before y’all was outa diapers. I know all the tricks.”

  “Yeah, but that’s the point, Kinkaid. The mob lives by a code. They stand by their soldiers. Alfano’s an outsider. He’s got no moral code.”

  All that got me was a grunt, but it was enough. He was listening.

  “Right now you’re only wanted for breaking and entering and assault with a dangerous weapon. Cooperate, and I can make that all go away. Otherwise you go down as an accessory after the fact in a double homicide. He’s probably plotting to set you up to take the fall for the killings as we speak. You know what big money can do.”

  “Yeah, it can buy me lots of protection.”

  “Why would he protect you?”

  “Because I can put his ass in jail—lawyers or no lawyers.”

  “For assaulting me? That was his idea, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dix Lee coming down the sidewalk with Lonzo Joe. The sheriff’s detective was here to protect the county’s interest, no doubt; Dix was probably merely curious. I waved them over and tipped the phone so they could listen.

  “Let me understand this, Kinkaid. Alfano hired you to assault and kidnap me? Kidnapping’s a federal offense, you know.”

  “Yeah, but nobody got kidnapped.”

  “Maybe not, but he told you to take me, didn’t he?”

  “So what if he did?”

  “And you tried.”

  “I’m hanging up now. Against the law to talk on the telephone while driving in this state, y’all know that?” His bellowing laugh died abruptly as he ended the call.

  “You get that?” I asked the two officers.

  “Enough. Old man Alfano trying to kill his own son? Hard to believe,” Lonzo said.

  “Not kill his son. It was his son’s lover he was after. It’s a long story. I need to catch Gaines’s attention. Will you back me up about the phone call?”

  “Sure,” Dix answered. “Right after you give us that phone number so we can get somebody to work pinning down Kinkaid’s location.”

  “I would have headed north to Colorado. Or Utah,” Lonzo suggested.

  “He’d have been there by now. He’s still on the road, so I’m guessing he’s trying for Texas,” I replied.

  “Dumb.”

  “Nobody ever accused mob muscle of being smart. That’s not what they’re hired for,” Dix said.

  It was five of four when Lonzo went inside the courtroom and pulled Gaines out to listen to the recording of my call to Kinkaid. I took the opportunity to hand over the call and the glass from the Marriott Restaurant and explain what they were to the three of them. Although Gaines wasn’t as positive about the idea as I was, he authorized Dix to deliver the items to the crime lab at FPD and start processing them.

  “All you’ve got is speculation, Vinson,” he said as Dix headed for her cruiser. “None of this is going to put a halt to the proceedings in there.”

  “Didn’t expect it to. But at least you have a few additional things to check when you prepare for trial.”

  “That’s the US attorney’s job, not mine.”

  “Maybe not, but guess who’ll do the grunt work.”

  “Point taken.” He checked his watch. “I’m going back inside now. They’re about to start.”

  “Me too. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

&
nbsp; Lonzo merely grunted as we started for the courthouse steps.

  The proceeding went as expected. The judge heard arguments and denied bail. Lando accepted the decision, but Anthony Alfano was enraged. As he left the room in shackles, Lando shuffled past his father and brother without giving them a glance, despite Alfano’s loud proclamations of support over the noise of an emptying courtroom.

  I walked outside with Del to update him on the morning’s developments, but we had no opportunity. Alfano approached, stiff-legged, and snarled at Del.

  “Is that the best you can do? What kind of shyster are you anyway?”

  “You may talk to your own lackeys that way but not to me. Get a civil tongue in your head or this conversation is over.” Del had a pretty well-developed sense of self and wasn’t about to be bullied.

  “You’re fired. You hear me? Fired.”

  “Sorry, but you’re not my client, and Lando wants me to represent him. He said so before we went into the hearing. By the way, he asked me to keep you away from him.”

  In his younger days, Alfano probably had put up with a lot of lip, but I doubt anyone had talked to him like that in the past ten years. He didn’t take it well.

  “Wait until my attorneys get here—real lawyers, not night school shysters—and we’ll see who represents my son. In the meantime, I’ll hold you responsible if anything happens to him.”

  “I can hardly wait to meet the gentlemen,” Del replied.

  We watched Alfano, trailed by his older son, walk toward the green Taurus. Anger radiated from the older man; despair flowed from Aggie. As soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, I filled Del in on my telephone call with Kinkaid.

  “What did Gaines say about the DNA on Dana? His body was out there in the desert quite a while.”

  “So he reminded me, although he had already asked for tests. The results are not back yet, but he did send the wineglass to the lab for processing.”

  “You say Sergeant Lee heard the conversation?”

  “Dix and Detective Lonzo Joe. The important part of it, anyway.”

  Del’s broad forehead wrinkled in thought. “The FPD can probably tie Alfano to the attack on you—”