Stilwell thought it was a near-perfect alibi, even though there were several hours between the sunset shot on Saturday and the first photos of fishing Sunday. It could possibly be argued that Forbes had made his way back to Avalon during those hours, taken the skiff from the Black Marlin Club to the Emerald Sea in the middle of the night, and gotten back to Anacapa in time for a morning of fishing. But Stilwell put the chances of that at slim to none. He believed Forbes was telling the truth.
21
No longer a person of interest, Forbes was now a witness. Stilwell had to rethink and retool his approach. The interrogation had become an interview. He started by telling Forbes what the man wanted to hear.
“I’m going to go to bat for you, Duncan,” he said. “I’ll talk to probation and the DA’s office about making this warrant go away. I’ll tell them you’ve been very cooperative in this investigation.”
“It’s such bullshit,” Forbes said. “They better fix it.”
“Well, the more you help me, the better the chance of that happening.”
“But I told you, I don’t know anything about that girl.”
“That’s fine. But I want to talk to you about the Emerald Sea.”
“What about it?”
“You sailed the boat back to Marina del Rey this past Monday, right?”
“Monday morning, yeah.”
“How did that get set up?”
“The way it always does. The owner, Mr. Colbrink, just called me and said he wanted to take it back across. That was Sunday — he wanted to go Sunday. But I was working on the Mistress and told him I couldn’t. He then said Monday morning and I said I could do that.”
“Why did he want to leave in the middle of the holiday weekend?”
“He just said it was too crowded.”
“So, on Monday, was it just you two on the boat?”
Forbes hesitated. He leaned back and scanned the confines of the room, his eyes eventually going to the camera mounted in the corner over Stilwell’s left shoulder.
“Man, this could cost me my job with Mr. Colbrink.”
“Everything in an investigation is kept confidential, Duncan.”
“You mean until it isn’t.”
“Look, I told you. You want my help with the warrant, you gotta help me. I’m asking you, was it just you and Colbrink on the trip back to Marina del Rey?”
“No. He had a lady friend who went back with us.”
“Who was that?”
“I don’t know. I’m just the hired help. He didn’t make any introductions. I heard him call her Bree, I think. Or Breezy. I think both, maybe.”
“And she had stayed on the boat with him over the weekend?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I got there Monday, and so I only know about Monday.”
“How old is Bree or Breezy?”
“At least forty.”
Forbes had confirmed information Stilwell had gotten from Colbrink during the ride from the mansion in Malibu to the boat in Marina del Rey. But the confirmation served to raise Stilwell’s confidence in Forbes’s truthfulness.
“I want to show you something,” Stilwell said.
He typed a few commands into the laptop and opened the video Tash had emailed him of the skiff moving from the BMC to the Emerald Sea, then turned the screen so Forbes could see it.
“Who do you think that is?” he asked.
Forbes watched the video to the end of the clip before responding.
“I don’t know, man,” he said. “That’s weird.”
“Is it Mason Colbrink?” Stilwell asked.
“I doubt it. That time stamp right? This on the eighteenth?”
“Yes, the eighteenth.”
“But you were just asking me about this past weekend.”
“I’m asking you about both weekends. Look at the video. Could that be Mason Colbrink?”
“I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t think he was on the island then.”
“Okay, well, whoever the guy is, what do you think he’s doing?”
“No idea. Probably trying to steal shit.”
Stilwell turned the computer back around and closed it. He hadn’t considered that the man on the skiff might be taking things from the boats in the harbor. It was a reminder of how easily tunnel vision could hijack an investigation.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Well, because there was some shit missing.”
“From where?”
“The Emerald Sea.”
“Like what?”
“An anchor, for one.”
“What else?”
“Somebody fucked around with the sails. Dumped one of them out of its bag and then I couldn’t find the bag.”
“Anything else?”
“Nah, I think that was all.”
“Where was the anchor taken from?”
“It was a spare that was kept in a locker with the stern anchor.”
“Did you notice the missing anchor and sail bag or did Colbrink?”
“On Monday when we got the boat back to MDR, I cleaned it up and opened up the lockers because of mold. I always let everything air out — Mr. Colbrink has a big thing about mold on the boat. So I opened the hatches and I saw stuff was missing or fucked with.”
“What did you do about it?”
“Well, Mr. Colbrink has an account at the ship’s store over there. I went over and got replacements.”
“What’s the name of the store?”
“Topsail Chandlery. Mr. Colbrink lets me sign on the account for supplies and stuff.”
“Did you tell him about the anchor and the sail bag?”
“Not yet. I actually kind of forgot. I left my phone at Two Harbors that day, so I was going to call him when I got back, but then I forgot. Anyway, he doesn’t really care about that stuff. He just wants the boat to be ready and clean for the next time he goes out, and he wants no sign that anybody else has been on it.”
“Meaning what?”
“Like in case his wife checks the boat out. He doesn’t want any lipstick on the glasses in the galley, extra toothbrushes in the head. Like that.”
Stilwell nodded. Forbes was helping things fall into place in the investigation, but the information didn’t move Stilwell any closer to figuring out who the man on the skiff was or who had used the anchor and sail bag from the Emerald Sea to submerge the body of a young woman.
“All right, Duncan,” he said. “I want you to think hard. Was there anything else missing or unusual about the boat when you went through it to clean?”
Forbes slowly shook his head.
“No, man,” he said. “I can’t think of anything.”
“Okay, let’s back up for a second,” Stilwell said. “Think about when you were cleaning the boat. Where did you start?”
“I always start inside — the forward cabins — and then I back my way out, you know? I do the deck and wipe all of the topside stainless last.”
“Okay, start with the cabins. Nothing unusual or out of place?”
“Not that I remember.”
“No toothbrush to get rid of?”
“Nah, not this time.”
“Then what, the salon? Is that what you call it?”
Stilwell was using a well-worn and effective interview technique of taking a witness back through what was perceived as a mundane experience and drawing out details with questions that moved the story moment by moment.
“There was the usual,” Forbes said. “Dishes in the sink. I cleaned it all, put everything on the rack. I took out the trash and then mopped.”
“Where’d you get the mop?” Stilwell asked.