She was in a tub in the bathroom with duct tape wrapped around her head holding a crushed roll of toilet paper to her forehead. He saw the blood and figured the toilet paper was about a wound. She was light, maybe a hundred and thirty pounds. Raveneau carried her down the hall. He tore the tape off her ankles and led her to the front door. Drury was two-handing the gun behind him as he opened the door just enough for her to go through. He didn’t doubt Drury would pull the trigger if anything happened, and he didn’t know if the door was going to knock him backwards as a SWAT team charged in, or whether glass was going to shatter somewhere else in the house.
As soon as the opening was big enough she was gone. He heard her running as he locked the door again and Drury stepped back.
‘Down the hall and up the stairs.’
They climbed carpeted stairs to the master bedroom. With the lights off and dusk falling it was nearly dark as Raveneau talked.
‘They need you. You are the key and they don’t want you killed. I can get the FBI on the phone. You’ll have to show them where you dropped the plywood before you picked it up a second time. They don’t care what you got paid. That’s not what they’re after. Get your deal, then trade.’
‘You’re lying.’
But there was no conviction in his voice. He was buying in.
‘They went through your text and email messages.’ Raveneau let that rest a moment in the twilight and then added some bullshit on to it. ‘They ran their algorithm and found the pattern.’
‘I got two thousand dollars.’
‘To drop the plywood and pick it up again?’
After a long pause, Drury said, ‘I’m not going to sit in a prison for life. That’s what they’re telling me I’m going to do. I’m not doing that for two thousand dollars.’
‘You were used.’
‘Yeah, that guy used me.’
‘What guy?’
‘I don’t even know his fucking name.’
‘He offered you the two grand.’
‘Yes.’
‘OK, we’ve got to call. You can dial the number if you don’t trust me. We’ve got to get ahead of the local SWAT guys. They’ll start moving with dark. They’ll only let us sit in here so long. Let’s get the Feds on the line. Let’s get the deal.’
‘Downstairs.’
Drury pushed the gun barrel into his back as they started down. As they reached the bedroom Drury got nervous. He ordered Raveneau down on his belly on the floor again and searched by hand for the phone and gun. The light was gone from the room and Raveneau kept saying, ‘Don’t turn on a light whatever you do.’
Drury shoved Raveneau’s phone at him. ‘Find their number. Show it to me.’
Raveneau did that and with the phone to his ear and the gun in his right, Drury called Coe. Coe played his role perfectly, answered crisply, ‘FBI.’ He spoke loud enough for Raveneau to listen in.
‘We know you were used,’ Coe said. ‘We understand and we want to talk. Hold the phone where I can hear Inspector Raveneau say he’s OK.’
Drury held the phone out for Raveneau and as Drury brought the phone back to his ear Coe said loudly, ‘We’ve got a vehicle in the area. We want to pick you up. Are you willing to do that?’
Drury knew it couldn’t be that easy, but he couldn’t come up with the right questions and Coe kept talking. Maybe Drury didn’t know he’d killed a police officer or maybe he fantasized that could be dealt with. Either way, Raveneau could tell Coe was convincing him from the short answers Drury gave. He got the feeling as Drury hung up that he actually believed it was going to happen just as Coe described it.
It at least started that way. Two Fed sedans and a van came down the street. Three FBI agents came to the door though none were standing in front of it when it opened and their guns were drawn when he did come out. Drury laid down his weapon. He accepted their apologies when they told him the wrist restraints were only temporary. As they loaded Drury into the van, the agent in charge turned to Raveneau to thank him.
‘You can thank me on the way,’ Raveneau answered. ‘I’m coming with you.’
TWENTY-NINE
A pair of interrogators worked Drury. They calmed him down. They fed him. They talked about the upcoming Super Bowl and not at all about the patrol officer Drury had murdered. Raveneau was aware from Coe’s updates how angry the Oakland police were that the Feds took Drury, and Fox TV took that story national, the federal government running ramshod. By tomorrow Raveneau knew the outrage would grow to a roar unless more information was released.
But it was also clear from Coe that the FBI believed as Raveneau did, that John Drury held critical information. As Raveneau watched through the glass, Drury kept circling back to the same story of the man who hired him at Pete’s Corner.
‘Where did this Mr Helsing contact you?’
‘At the same bar Raveneau followed me to.’
‘Why there?’
‘It’s where we first met.’
‘Tell us about that first meeting again.’
‘I don’t remember. I guess he started a conversation. He bought the drinks. I remember that.’ Drury expelled a harsh laugh.
‘What were you drinking?’
‘What the fuck difference does it make?’
‘We want every detail.’
‘I don’t remember what I was drinking. He won some money gambling or on a lottery ticket or something and said it was good luck to buy someone a drink.’
‘Were you sitting at the bar?’
‘We were standing.’
‘He was standing next to you?’
‘That’s what I just said.’
‘Was he taller or shorter than you?’
Raveneau caught the hesitation. He glanced at Coe. Coe saw it too.
‘Shorter.’
‘How much shorter?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘An inch, two inches, three inches.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah, what?’
‘Three.’
‘Did he buy drinks for anyone else?’
The hesitation again and then, ‘There were these guys playing pool. He bought beers for them. That was it that night. We talked and he left. Maybe we shook hands.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘Tell us about the second meeting. When was it?’
‘Pretty close to Thanksgiving.’
‘How close?’
‘The day before maybe, it was when he made the offer to pay me if I delivered stuff for him. I got to know him over the next three or four months. When Raveneau came to the bar I freaked because I thought he was a cop and it could be about stuff I did for Helsing.’
‘You thought you might get busted by Inspector Raveneau?’
‘I knew he was looking around and I wondered if he was a cop. He called me earlier and I took off from my house, so I was kind of freaked anyway.’
The interrogators rolled with it though one of them looked toward the glass.
‘Describe his physical features.’
‘He has regular features.’
‘What are regular features?’
‘He’s not Arab or anything like that if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘Was he white, black, Hispanic?’
‘He’s a white guy with nothing special about his face. Sort of like you.’
‘What color was his hair?’
‘Black with some gray.’
‘Show us where the gray was.’
Alongside him, Coe said, ‘They want him to describe Helsing and have the artist work from the tape, but I think we’d better get the artist in there now.’
‘Not yet, I get what they’re doing.’
‘Eyes?’
‘Dark.’
‘Brown, black, what are they?’
Drury smiled. ‘Hey, I never exactly looked into his eyes. It happened because I said I needed to make more money and he said he might know a way if I was doing lumber deliveries and it would be a pretty good cash deal for me as long as I figured out a way to add a stop to my regular deliveries without my boss knowing.’ Drury turned toward the glass, adding, ‘Sounded good to me.’