Cruces laughed derisively. “You got a problem, man. José is feeding you bullshit.”
“But José makes sense,” Decker said. “Sure, he’s probably handing us some lines, but the story makes sense and the forensics back him up. He’s saying that it’s all you, Martin. You set up everything, and you paid each of your cousins ten grand to do it. It’s all over, Martin. Help yourself out by helping us out.”
Cruces was silent.
Decker said, “How’d you get that kind of money, Martin?”
“José is telling you lies! How many times do I gotta tell you?”
“Why should I believe you when we have your bloody fingerprints, Rondo Martin’s eyewitness testimony against you, and Joe Pine talking like a mynah bird?”
“Rondo’s lying, too. He hates me.”
“The fingerprints don’t lie.” Decker leaned in close. “Martin, I know that you didn’t set this up without help. From the very beginning we knew that you were paid off by someone who wanted to murder the Kaffeys. Someone who had a lot of money. Help yourself and tell us who paid you to do the murders.”
“I didn’t get paid off by anyone. How many times do I have to tell you? I wasn’t there. And I’m gonna keep saying this until you guys let me go.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Martin. We’ve got enough to arrest you on three counts of premeditated murder, which can carry the death penalty. This crime was so cruel that I’m sure a judge would have no problem ordering the needle. Is that how you want it to end?”
“I wasn’t there!”
Decker went at him for another hour, but Martin refused to budge. If this had been going on for eight hours prior to Decker’s questioning, how likely was it that he was going to crack?
Patience, patience.
Decker suddenly recalled a police seminar he had about ten years ago. The lecturer spoke about a shrink who had been a master hypnotist. Sometimes instead of fighting the induction, the head doctor would incorporate the patient’s resistance in part of the induction. So what would it hurt if Decker just played along with Cruces’s lie?
“All right,” Decker said. “You weren’t there, okay?”
Cruces narrowed his eyes and stared at him. “That’s right.”
“You were not there. Rondo Martin was mistaken, Joe Pine was mistaken, the fingerprint was wrong, you weren’t there.”
“That’s right.”
“Okay.” Decker nodded. “I believe you.”
There was a long pause. Cruces said, “Good.”
Decker said, “You know why I believe you?”
“Why?”
“Because we’ve been questioning you for a long time and you keep coming up with the same sentence. You weren’t there. I have to ask myself: why would someone keep saying that when the evidence is so overwhelming against him? And the only thing that I can come up with is…it must be the truth.”
“That’s right.” Cruces straightened his spine. “It’s the truth.”
“Okay, you weren’t there,” Decker told him. “But you know some of the people who were there.”
“I don’t know who was there because I wasn’t there.”
“All I’m saying is that you know Joe Pine, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“And you know Esteban Cruz and Gordo Cruces. They’re your cousins, right?”
“Yeah, they’re my cousins.”
“And you know Julio Davis. He’s the one who gave you your alibi.”
“Yeah, I know Julio. He wasn’t there, either. I told you we were both getting drunk in a bar. About a million people saw us.”
“And you know Miguel Mendoza.”
“Met him a couple of times.”
“That’s all I’m saying. That you know the guys that Joe Pine said were involved in the murders.”
“Joe’s full of shit.”
“Probably. But let’s get back to you. If I believe you and I’m willing to help you out, you’ve got to help me.”
“Depends on what.”
“Can I be straight up with you?” When Cruces didn’t object, Decker said, “We’re in a little bit of a quandary. We know that the people who shot the Kaffeys were paid off by someone with a lot of money. Because Joe Pine said he got ten grand for the murders.”
“Joe’s full of shit.”
Decker leaned forward. “We know that the Kaffey murders were an inside job, Martin. We know that it wasn’t just planned by a bunch of Bodega 12th Street boys and a couple of guards. We know someone with a lot of money started the whole thing going, know what I’m saying?”
Cruces didn’t say anything, but he managed a small nod.
“And whoever started it…he’s the real bad guy. Why should your cousins take a fall for some fat cat?”
Cruces didn’t answer.
“Look, you had nothing to do with it,” Decker said. “So you’re okay. So why don’t you man up and help your cousins? Tell me who paid them to murder the Kaffeys?”
“I don’t know,” Cruces said. “I wasn’t there.”
Decker said, “But if you had to guess who El Patrón was, who would it be? You know El Patrón, right?”
“Why should I know?”
“Because you’re a player, Martin. You know about these people.”
Cruces didn’t answer.
“Who is El Patrón?”
“Why would I know about him?”
“I’m just asking for your opinion.”
“Well…” Cruces sat back. “If I give you my opinion, are you gonna let me go?”
“It’s not up to me. But I’ll tell everyone that I believe you. And I’ll tell everyone that you helped me out by giving me your opinion.”
“That means you ain’t gonna do dick.”
“What’s the harm in giving me your opinion? You’re not admitting to anything.”
“That’s right. I ain’t saying anything.”
Decker made a point of sighing. “I know you could help me. You’re a smart guy.”
“Why should I help you?”
“’Cause I’m the only one who believes you.”
“Are you really a lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir, I am. All I want is your opinion, smart guy. Nothing that’s admissible in court. Just want your plain honest opinion, sir.”
Cruces blinked then lay back in the chair. “Okay…in my opinion, if I was you…I would say…look at the brother.”
“Grant Kaffey or Gil Kaffey?”
“Not the sons, dude, the hermano. Mace Kaffey. Man, he never liked Guy at all.”
“Excuse me for a moment.” Decker walked out of the room-a big smile on his face.
Sometimes all you have to do is ask.
FORTY
THREE WEEKS LATER, Martin Cruces agreed to turn state’s evidence against Mace Kaffey in exchange for a plea of life in prison with the possibility of parole. But even after Decker had heard the story, Mace was not an easy fish to land. The district attorney wanted more and more, and it took months of tedious investigation to uncover the few shreds of evidence against Mace. With Cruces’s testimony, a judge agreed to issue warrants that allowed the police to study Mace’s bank accounts, credit card receipts, e-mail correspondence, and phone records.
Oliver and Marge were able to document two places where conversations took place between Cruces and Mace. The sides argued vociferously about what was said between the two of them.
Lee Wang uncovered a trail of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in ten withdrawals that exited Mace’s bank accounts and traveled from one dummy corporation to another until it appeared to reach Martin Cruces’s hands. It was never specified what the money was for, and each side gave a different interpretation. Cruces claimed it was ten thousand for each of his drones in the hit and one hundred thousand for himself. Mace’s lawyers claimed it was a payment for beefed-up security after Guy received anonymous threats against his life. Why it went from Mace to Cruces was the subject of more speculation on the defense side.
Messing and Pratt were able to find about a half-dozen phone calls from Cruces to Kaffey, all of them placed on disposable cell phones that Cruces never disposed of. Particular attention was paid to two calls made on the night of the murders-one before and one after.