He told Corum about the search of the cart barn he had conducted and about the saw handle that had tested positive for blood. He revealed that it had not yet been submitted for forensic analysis, and the captain agreed to personally take it to the lab and use his position to prioritize DNA comparison to blood from the buffalo.
“Even if it’s a match, it won’t get us far,” Corum said. “It solves the buffalo caper but not the murder of our cooperating witness.”
“It’s a start,” Stilwell said. “It gives us some leverage with Terranova. Maybe enough to flip him and move up the ladder.”
Corum nodded reluctantly. Stilwell had earlier briefed him on what Gaston had said about Terranova’s alleged relationship with the mayor.
“We’re staying away from that ladder until we have more evidence and it’s rock solid,” he said.
By midmorning the media was onto the story, led initially by Lionel McKey from the Call but soon followed by reporters and camera operators from the mainland-based news channels and the Los Angeles Times. Since Spivak had escaped, the session in the courtroom next to the sub was over in a matter of minutes. Judge Harrell and Deputy DA Juarez handled a short docket of cases involving minor crimes in which defendants had been released without bail after arrest. Once court was adjourned and Harrell and Juarez had headed back to the boats, the media members were told to gather in the courtroom and await a press conference to be conducted by Corum.
McKey, the lone local reporter, was not happy about being lumped in with the carpetbaggers from the mainland. He started calling Stilwell’s cell phone every ten minutes. Besides being frustrated by the repeated calls, which he sent directly to voicemail, Stilwell was annoyed by the fact that McKey had somehow gotten his private number. Stilwell had never given it to him.
Finally, when the fifth call started buzzing his phone, Stilwell answered with a low but intense tone. He was sitting in the bullpen with several of the investigators working around him.
“Who gave you this number?”
“Uh, I... don’t really remember. I think you did, actually.”
“Nice try. I have no comment at this time, Lionel. And blowing up my phone with your constant calls and messages is not the way to make me want to talk to you.”
“Look, I apologize, okay? But, man, this is a local goddamn story, and we’ve got all the heavy hitters coming in from overtown, and my deadline’s in like three hours. I need something they don’t have. It’s a matter of pride and I need it now. I just thought you’d get that and give the hometown paper something.”
“Well, you thought wrong. This is a murder investigation and there’s an escaped killer out there. No comment.”
“Look, we can trade. I guarantee you that someday you’ll need me to write a story that helps you with a case, and if you help me now, I’ll remember it then.”
Stilwell let him hang for a long moment before responding.
“Is that it?” he finally said. “That’s your best shot?”
“Well, what do you want?” McKey asked.
“I want you to stop calling me.”
He disconnected and looked at the detective sitting at the desk across from him. His name was Crockett, like the detective on Miami Vice.
“Fucking reporters,” Crockett said.
“Yeah,” Stilwell said.
He got up and went into his office, which had been commandeered by Corum. The captain was writing on a yellow legal pad.
“Need your office back?” Corum asked.
“No, not really,” Stilwell said. “What are you going to give the press?”
“I’m going to feed them shit and they’re going to love it.”
“Are we putting out Spivak’s photo?”
“Course.”
“What are you going to say happened?”
“That he overpowered a deputy, got the keys, and escaped. Clean and simple.”
“Are you naming Esquivel?”
“I should but I won’t. It’s not going to matter, though. He’s done in the department.”
“He’s not a bad cop. What about a suspension?”
“It won’t be my call. But he let a prisoner escape and kill a guy. And Spivak may kill others. Hard to come back from that.”
“What about Gaston?”
“What about him?”
“Are you going to say we had him in protective custody?”
“Fuck no, are you kidding me? He was being held for cutting up the buffalo, end of story. That case is solved and that’s the silver lining in this whole thing. The guy who cut off the head of the buffalo nearly had his own head chopped off.”
Stilwell nodded.
“You need anything?” he said. “A coffee or a Coke?”
“I’m already floating, I’ve had so much coffee,” Corum said.
“Okay.”
“Listen, I want you out there with me in front of the media. You’re the head guy here on the island and you should be standing with me. You don’t have to say anything. I’ll introduce you and you just stand there.”
“Whatever you need, Cap.”
Stilwell took his coffee mug off the desk and stepped out of the office. But he didn’t go to the break room for coffee. He walked into the jail and saw that the body and the forensics team were gone. He quickly pulled his phone and called McKey back. The reporter answered the call with an excited tone.
“Sergeant Stilwell. What’s up?”
“You didn’t get this from me.”
“Okay.”
“Say it.”
“I didn’t get it from you. It’s off the record, deep background. Whatever you tell me, you won’t be anywhere near it.”
Stilwell turned so he could watch the door and see if anyone was coming in. He lowered his voice when he spoke again.
“Okay, prove I can trust you,” he said. “At the press conference, the captain’s going to state that the prisoner who got murdered was in jail because he had admitted to killing the buffalo up on the preserve last week.”
“Was that the motive for the murder?” McKey asked.
“Don’t ask questions. I’m not answering any. What the captain won’t be saying is that the dead guy worked for Island Mystery Tours in cart maintenance.”
“Okay...”
McKey obviously wasn’t making the jump.
“So the mutilated buffalo juices the aliens-on-Catalina stories in the media...” Stilwell prompted.
“Holy shit,” McKey said. “And that in turn juices business for Island Mystery Tours.”
“Cause and effect.”
“Did the guy who killed the buffalo admit that was why he did it?”
“I told you I’m not answering questions. But why else would he do it?”
“That’s Baby Head Terranova’s business. Is he being investigated?”
“Write a good story, Lionel. Just keep me out of it.”
Stilwell disconnected before McKey could respond and pocketed his phone.
33
As the sun set on Friday, Corum and his team of investigators piled into two helicopters and flew back to the mainland. The reporters had left earlier, as had the body of Henry Gaston, which was escorted across the Santa Monica Bay by a sheriff’s boat, offloaded, and taken to the coroner’s office for autopsy. The hit man Merris Spivak remained at large and it was a coin flip as to whether he had somehow gotten off the island or was still in Avalon or in the mountains hiding. Stilwell had no opinion. His attention was on how to make a case against the man who he believed had brought Spivak to the island with the purpose of killing Gaston.
Stilwell had been awake for thirty-eight hours by the time he got home. He had expected Tash Dano to be waiting for him, but the house was dark. She had not responded to his earlier texts about plans for the evening or to his heads-up that he was on his way home. The truth was that he was too tired to eat or discuss his day. He wanted to sleep. He called her, but when it went straight to voicemail, he was relieved — he was too exhausted even to engage in a basic phone conversation.