Sacrifice

by Michael Arches

  Nobody bothered with small talk. Instead, both lawyers immediately peppered me with questions about what I’d done over the last week and why. I gave it to ‘em straight.

  When they finished, I had questions of my own. “What charges are you planning to bring against the four Satanists?”

  “We’re throwing the book at them,” Younger said. “Even though none of them entered the mine yesterday, we’re charging all with felony murder for the deaths of Police Officer Trace Cooper, Natasha Rybár, Karen Matthews, Melody Wilcox, Fergus Kirkpatrick, and Hinckley. In addition, we will charge the four with three counts of attempted murder, namely you twice and Sandra Pollock.”

  “Works for me.” Felony murder was an old common law doctrine that said if someone was killed during the commission of the felony, everyone involved in the underlying felony was also guilty of murder. The doctrine had been used successfully to convict criminals already arrested before the death occurred, even if the cops shot one of the criminal’s co-conspirators.

  Sarah smiled at me. “In addition, we’ll charge various conspiracy and explosives counts. And we’re seriously considering seeking the death penalty.”

  I appreciated that. No one had been executed in Colorado for decades, but to my mind, the people involved in Trace’s death deserved the worst punishment possible. “Better.”

  I raised the subject most likely to cause a ruckus. “What about Leonardo Salieri?”

  Younger and Sarah both stiffened for an instant. That told me they’d disagreed and expected me to be pissed, or worse.

  “I want you to know, Hank,” Randy said, “I haven’t agreed to anything with regard to Leo. I told them you’ll make that decision for our office, irrespective of the current chain of command.”

  I nodded my thanks.

  “Same here,” Manny said. “We’ll back whatever you decide.”

  “No decisions have been made,” Younger said. “We’re discussing options.”

  I couldn’t complain about considering all options, but I wanted to be sure he did long years of hard time. “Let’s hear the details.”

  “Keep in mind,” the district attorney said, “we currently have no evidence connecting the five surviving conspirators to the deaths of Rybár or Matthews. Unless we find some incriminating evidence, which seems unlikely, our only hope to connect the five to the first two murders is to turn one of them to our side. Leo is the only one whose helped us in any way, so he probably deserves the chance to make a deal first.”

  Much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. But we were considering options. “What if we forget about charging any of them with the first two murders? The evidence of their involvement in the ceremony they planned for last night is overwhelming. That leads to four felony murder counts and three attempted murder counts. Then we don’t have to give anybody a break.”

  “True,” Younger said, “but the only reason you knew where to find Sandy was you insisted that Maria Salieri seek Leo’s confession at the hospital. In addition, he was badly wounded when he helped us. He’ll undoubtedly claim he spoke under severe duress and without the benefit of any Miranda warnings. In short, we may only be able to convict him of his two attempts to shoot you. The lab techs have confirmed, by the way, that his AR-15 was the rifle used during the attack on McClure Pass.”

  I fought to keep my annoyance off my face. The DA was probably right again. “What do you want to offer him?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Simply laying out options.”

  That led to a pregnant pause I wasn’t about to cut off.

  Finally, the DA said, “We could propose that he plead guilty on the two counts of attempted murder of a police officer and serve a minimum of thirty years in state prison. He’d be seventy when he got out, at the earliest.”

  That was a pretty tough deal for a cooperating witness. He’d end up spending half of his adult life in the slammer. But Younger hadn’t mentioned any restitution for the victims or their families, and Leo’s family was filthy rich.

  “That might work—with a little improvement,” I said. “I’m talking about compensation for the victims.”

  Younger shook his head. “Leo is deeply in debt, even with his high-paying job, which he won’t have anymore.”

  I wasn’t buying it. “When Maria passes on, Leo stands to inherit one-quarter of how many millions? Do you know, Randy?”

  The corners of Sarah’s mouth turned up. I was sure she’d said the same thing to the DA in private.

  Our chief deputy didn’t hide his smile as well. “Don’t really, but I expect the family’s businesses are worth over twenty mil.”

  Younger grimaced. “The other Salieris have been very cooperative. I don’t think we should stick our nose into their personal finances.”

  My campaign motto came to mind. “No special favors for ‘special’ people, Malcolm.”

  Manny snickered and leaned forward. “How about this as an option? They either pay five million in restitution, or they agree to disinherit Leo completely.”

  Manny had been growing on me since the beginning of our work together. I gave him a high five.

  The DA frowned. “That’s going to create considerable consternation within the family. Hal, at a minimum, will resent being forced to choose between paying for his brother’s mistakes or shunning him.”

  “Hell, you don’t have to handle this if you don’t want to,” I said. “I’ll make the pitch. I’m still carrying wounds Leo helped create. I’d like to see them say no help for the innocent victims to my face.”

  Younger groaned and threw a pencil at the wall. “You seem to have a political death wish.”

  If he thought that reminder of the Salieris’ power was going to get me to change my mind, he was crazy. “No deal without restitution.”

  With a huff, Younger backed down. “I’ll make the proposal.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “On an entirely different topic, have you figured out how Kirkpatrick and Wilcox got explosives?”

  “It turns out,” Randy said, “one of the four we grabbed last night is the daughter of Bill Henderson. He’s one of the last miners in the county, but he’s in his eighties. She raided his stash of old explosives without his knowledge. He’s given up the rest, so it won’t happen again.”

  “Fine, moving on,” I said, “what about that huge dog? He didn’t cause me any real trouble. I’d hate to see him stuck in a cage for months or put down.”

  “Belongs to a Wilcox,” Manny said. “Alex heard about him, and he’s offered to take the dog.”

  That made sense. Alex always took good care of his existing dogs. “Great. See you guys at one.”

  Chapter 25

  Shortly before the press conference, I showed up in the commissioners hearing room where it would be held. Younger had a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He pulled me, Randy, and Manny aside.

  “They went for it,” the DA said. “Hal bitched and moaned, but Maria agreed Leo needed to do everything he could to minimize the harm he’d caused. According to her accountant, her younger son’s share of the family trust is currently worth $6.3 million. She wants all of it given to the court for restitution.”

  “Wow!” I said. “Maybe she really is a saint.”

  Younger smirked like he thought he’d put me in a bad spot with Hal, but I was already at the top of his shit list. “Have you learned anything new from our cooperating witness?”

  “Sarah’s with him now. She’s texting updates. First, Natasha Rybár wasn’t the first victim sacrificed to Satan. A month before her, Viceroy had run into a pretty Filipino masseuse in Grand Junction. Her whole family is illegal, so they never reported her missing. She’s buried up high, near a Forest Service Jeep trail. Leo gave Sarah detailed directions on how to find the unmarked grave.”

  “Damn,” I said, “I feel better about cutting him a deal. At least, we can give the woman’s family closure and part of that $6.3 million.”

&n
bsp; It was so rare for victims or their families to get any compensation for their terrible losses.

  -o-o-o-

  When the press conference began, I stood behind the DA, our acting deputy sheriff, and Glenwood Springs’s Police Chief.

  They took turns laying out the basic facts then answered questions. Several reporters tried to ask me questions, but I only spoke up once, to describe how Trace and I had gotten cut off from the rest of our group.

  The press conference was just wrapping up when my phone vibrated. Phyllis Pollock. I whispered, “I’m tied up. Can I call you right back?”

  “We’ve been watching,” she said. “Wanted you to know Sandy just woke up. She’s groggy but seems fine. I know you wanted any updates.”

  A thrill ran through me. “Yeah!”

  “I’ll let you go,” Phyllis said, “but one more thing. Sandy told me she and Viceroy broke up because he insisted during their trip to Chicago that she attend a Black Mass there. My girl would never do that.”

  After I hung up, everyone was staring at me.

  With narrowed eyes, the DA asked, “Care to share with the class?”

  I stepped up to the microphone. “Sandy Pollock’s mother just called from the hospital. Her daughter is awake and seems okay. I’m sure it’ll be a while before they know whether she has suffered any permanent injury, but the preliminary signs are good.”

  The room burst into applause.

  My comment produced a flurry of more questions, most of which we couldn’t answer. I tried to keep calm, but I wanted to start a happy dance. We’d all worked so hard to save her. A warm glow filled me. This really was my calling.

  ~Finis~

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