Pelman guessed it was about eleven, eleven fifteen.
Ryall noted that confirmation of death would not take place for another six-plus hours.
Autopsy revealed extensive injuries. Kurt Swann had suffered fractures to both femurs, both arms, most of his ribs, and six vertebrae. The blow to the skull was determined to be fatal, consistent with high-velocity impact from a blunt object.
Toxicology indicated a blood alcohol level of.022, below the threshold for legal intoxication.
I called the Humboldt County Coroner — Public Administrator and asked to speak with Deputy Owen Ryall. He was Lieutenant Ryall now.
“Former?” he said.
“That’s right. Alameda County.”
Ryall said, “Let me get back to you.”
I stepped out to pick up Amy’s dry cleaning and a bowl of ramen. At my desk I pried off the lid, releasing fragrant steam.
My phone rang. I replaced the lid.
“I called your people,” Ryall said.
“Who’d you speak to?”
“Brad Moffett.”
“What’d he say?”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Checks out.”
“Also that you’re the best investigator he ever worked with,” Ryall said. “What’s your interest in Kurt Swann?”
“I’m trying to get a feel for the family and the place.”
“Not sure I’ll be much help. That night was the first and last time I was there. We got lost trying to find it.”
“A couple things stand out to me,” I said. “One is that Pelman goes home to call instead of trying to find a closer phone. Then he tells Leonie that Kurt’s dead before there’s a body.”
“Well, the phone, he had an explanation for that.”
“Nobody was home.”
“Yeah.”
“If he was desperate to get help, there’s other things he could’ve done.”
“You mean like break a window?”
“It’s a life-or-death situation.”
“That fall? Odds are it was instant death,” Ryall said. “Probably the same reason he told her Kurt was dead: It’s a reasonable assumption.”
“How did Leonie seem when you talked to her?”
“What I recall is tired. Like she’d been up all night.”
“It also struck me that she didn’t want to call anyone at first.”
“Could be she was overwhelmed or wanted to focus on the girl. We’re talking a toddler.”
“You didn’t sense she was hiding something from you.”
“Nope. People act weird, you know that.”
“Do you recall who it was she asked to come over?”
“I don’t, sorry.” Ryall paused. “You think something’s up here.”
“I’m asking if there was any doubt in your mind about whether it was an accident.”
“Your guy was right. You’re a royal pain in the ass.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Ryall sighed. “You know as well as I do, there’s always stuff you can’t corroborate a hundred percent. Pathologist said he hit a rock. Okay, but there’s ten billion rocks in the vicinity. You can’t tell if he slipped and hit his head on the way down, or if someone hit him and that’s why he fell. Or if he was pushed. Tire tracks melted in the rain, footprints got washed away, same for blood. Is it impossible Pelman did it? Or someone else? No. But what am I supposed to do? End of the day, we had one eyewitness. He was cooperative and the physical evidence fit.”
“Okay. Thanks for your time.”
“No prob. Hey, real quick: What made you leave the force?”
“I needed a change.”
“Yeah, huh. What do you do about health care?”
Chapter 22
Howdy, Clay!
Wanted to check in. Any progress on getting the stuff together?
Let me know if you need anything from me.
Take care,
Beau
I let a day elapse before answering him.
Hi Beau—
Greetings from Aspen. I’ve been here to ski but not during the summer. So beautiful.
I’m at a conference till Saturday. Quick stop in New York and then I’m off to Hong Kong.
I have calls in to my CPA and atty. Letters of rec in process. Credit reports too. The rest is coming along. Haven’t touched my resume in years, I need to make it current. I’ll try to get to it on the plane.
Stay tuned.
CG
With the clock ticking on that relationship, I called Chris Villareal.
We arranged to meet at the office of the estate lawyer helping him. Her name was Priscilla Acevedo. She listened well and asked tough questions. It was a role reversal from when Chris had been fired up and indignant, and I’d had to play wet blanket. Now I was the one advocating action, my frustration mounting as Acevedo calmly poked holes in my arguments.
Every buyer I’d spoken to, including Chris’s grandmother, had received disclosures.
Anyone had the right to make a crappy investment. People bought trendy stocks, crypto, NFTs. They played the lottery and the slots.
Whatever we stood to gain would be dwarfed by the cost and the hassle.
William Arenhold was dead. Rolando Pineda’s role was ancillary and limited to a few sales. The Bergstroms were worth nothing on paper, as were Leonie and Jason Clancy. Given Shasta’s youth, her direct involvement was improbable. Trust documents were not public; we’d need a subpoena to get them, and to get that we’d first need to file suit.
Bottom line, the connections were too flimsy, the stakes too small.
I said, “That’s what the scam relies on.”
Acevedo shrugged. “I admit, this isn’t my area of practice. I’ll consult with colleagues and get back to you.”
Chris and I rode the elevator to the parking garage.
“We tried,” he said. He shook his head. “It sucks. They’re going to keep on getting away with it. But I feel like I need to be done with this and move on.”
“I understand.”
“I’m sorry to quit on you.”
“Don’t be. You stuck with it longer than most people would.”
The doors opened. We stepped out, and he shook my hand.
“Thanks for your work, Clay. Invoice me and I’ll pay you ASAP.”
I wished him luck.
Amy and I sat on our back deck, sipping wine and surveying our tiny chunk of the East Bay.
Driveway swirled with chalk petroglyphs. Brown crop circle left by an inflatable pool.
Water guns. Buckets. Tooth-marked foam balls.
Summer was in decline.
“Do our children eat foam?” Amy asked.
“I can’t rule it out.” I blew a raspberry. “What a stupid day.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I know you were excited about this case.”
“It’s fine. I have to get used to the idea that I can’t see everything through to the end.”
“That was true when you were a coroner.”
“Yeah, but at least that work came to me. I didn’t have to chase it down and convince people to keep going.”
“Your clients smell better now.”
“Poor baby,” I said. “How did you live with me for so long?”
“When you love someone you can get used to anything.”
“I didn’t have to get used to anything about you. You’re perfect.”
“Aw, thanks.”
“Perfect.”
“Someone wants sex.”
“Did I say that? I didn’t say that.”
“Years of clinical training have given me a penetrating emotional radar.”
“Huh-huh-huh, she said ‘penetrating.’ ”
“And years of marriage to you.”
I smiled. “How was your day as a trained clinician?”