Kirk Russell - Night Game

He would say he’d hunted with his dad, mostly boar and deer hunting, not all of it legal, then got into bear on his own later in Canada where there wasn’t a lot of enforcement looking over your shoulder. Wasn’t much here anymore either, he’d heard, budget cuts and all. It was pretty much the honor system, or open season, depending how you looked at it. At the right moment, if it came, if Durham or Nyland picked up on the implied, Alvarez would let slip that he was willing to pay to bend the rules if that’s what it took to get a bear. Let them know he’d done that before, but not say where, even if pressed, letting them know he’d keep a confidence.

After they’d worked it out Alvarez headed back to the Crystal Basin to hook up with Shauf and the rest of the SOU. Marquez took a chair and phoned Matt Fong to see if he’d heard anything more on the computer hacking. Matt groused good-naturedly about his desk job, how he was getting soft and missed being with the team, though they both knew he was much happier being able to see his family every night, and the promotion had meant a lot to him. Marquez liked him, was glad he’d made captain, and hoped he would continue up the ladder. He would make a good chief. He listened as Fong downplayed the FBI’s progress.

“John, it won’t go that much farther. There’s no easy way to track where they hacked in. What’ll happen are new firewalls, but we aren’t going to find out who got in. What I hear is that it was someone smart enough not to leave tracks back to his door.”

“I want to float another idea with you,” Marquez said. “You and I were at those legislative hearings in March. I’m wondering if the leak came from someone there. You know, worked its way from a committee to someone on the outside, a friend, a business associate.”

Or a lobbyist, he might have added but didn’t want to yet.

“Not likely,” Fong said.

“Mull it over anyway.”

“I think about this every minute of the day.”

Fong had a terrific memory and might be able to identify more of the people who’d been there. Now, as he hung up with Fong, someone knocked. Marquez walked over and opened the door to Kendall’s face.

“I’m seeing more of you than anyone,” Marquez said. “Come on in and sit anywhere you want. Sorry we’re light on furniture.”

He didn’t particularly like Kendall’s showing up. Anything more Kendall had to say today could probably have been done via phone, and Kendall knew they worried about their cover being jeopardized.

“I’m sorry about today, sorry I’ve had to come after Petroni.” Kendall adjusted one of their flea market chairs and sat down.

“Sophie doesn’t corroborate his story. She says she was attracted to Vandemere and went swimming with him a few times at Loon Lake. Petroni caught them cavorting there.”

“Is cavorting your word or hers?”

“Her exact words were cruder, and I guess Petroni just happened to be patrolling the area, or maybe he put his undercover experience to work and followed her. She didn’t say it exactly, but it doesn’t sound like she was fully clothed. When Petroni found out he got very angry, went to Vandemere, and threatened to haul him in on a bogus violation.”

“What would that be?”

“You tell me, a four-inch fish, maybe, I don’t know your business.

According to her, Petroni routinely uses his badge to throw his weight around.”

“Are you here to road test a theory?” Here to see if I can knock holes in it before you take on Petroni . “Petroni didn’t kill Vandemere.”

“Naw, of course not. Wardens don’t kill geology students, and they don’t take bribes or make up violations. Jealous boyfriends kill, not wardens.”

“You’re running too fast with this.”

“You never know how they’re going to go. The last case I worked I got burned on because I moved too slowly. This was a B and E of a cabin outside of Pollock Pines early this summer. The perps turned out to be gangbangers up visiting for the day from Sacramento, which is what they do nowadays. They go for a day in the country and visit remote cabins. Unfortunately, the owner was home when they broke in. They didn’t realize it because he’d loaned his car to his son for the day. I’m talking about four shitbags in a lowered Honda. The DA let them plea-bargain to manslaughter because I didn’t have enough. I didn’t lean on them hard enough early enough. They claimed it was an accidental death, they were only there to rob him. Truth is, they beat him to death with the tire iron they’d pried the front door open with. If I find who killed Vandemere, there won’t be a manslaughter plea. ” “Good.”

“There’s a phone call I want to make with you. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“You’re not walking me to lunch again, are you?”

“No.”

They walked up the street past the courthouse, then crossed to the old soda works that had become a coffeehouse with art hanging from the walls. In the rear of the building were rooms carved out of rock and a door that led to a mine shaft. They chatted about the building as they waited for the coffees. Kendall said that he was into California history and that the gold rush was still the single most significant economic event in the history of the country. Marquez wondered how the Great Depression weighed in, but left it alone. Then they carried their coffees across the street and found a place to sit.

“I’ve got another bear hunter for you to talk to,” Kendall said.

“What’s his name?”

“Brandt. Know him?”

“No.”

“He wears a piece of dried bear heart on a leather thong around his neck, says it gives him power in bed with his girlfriend.

He’s pointed me toward other hunters, houndsmen, as you people call them. He’s also suspected of being an accomplice on another case up here involving a theft, so he wants to stay on my good side. Right now, he’s waiting on my call. I told him you’re an associate and I’m going to put you on the line. What he’s told me is that he and other unnamed people know of someone who makes monthly payments to a warden up here. They meet out some dirt road in the Crystal Basin, warden gets paid and afterwards stays out of certain areas for a period of time. I don’t have a warden’s name yet, but how many wardens are there, how many possibilities? The warden is stepping the rate up lately, and Brandt’s been hearing the whining.”

“Is the word out that you’re looking for dirt?”

“I’m sure it is and I’m sure they’re lining up to fuck with Petroni’s life, but the punch line for you is he told me this unnamed warden warned these hunters to be watching for an undercover team.”

“When did he tell you that?”

“A couple of days ago.”

Marquez sipped the coffee, thinking about Kendall’s motives, then said, “Okay, make the call,” and watched him punch in the numbers, listened as Kendall told Brandt he was going to put another investigator, a colleague on the line. Marquez took the phone, and Brandt said, “I already told Detective Kendall I’m getting this from a friend who works in the business.”

“You hunt legitimate?”

“Yes, sir, I don’t have any problem with the rules.”

“Let’s talk about your friend who’s giving you the information.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What business is he in?”

“Mostly he’s a lookout, but he helps some with skinning and cleaning too.”

“He’s working for poachers.”

“I guess so, but I’m not involved in any of that, sir.”

“I understand.” Marquez drew a quiet breath, looked at Kendall before speaking again, then said, “We called Fish and Game and they don’t have any undercover team.”

“All I know is supposedly the warden said there was one in the area and to watch out ‘cause they’re not under his control.”