“And that your job was on the line if you didn’t recover the bear.”
“That was implied.”
“Did your bosses also say that they’d cover your pay if you were forced to accidentally break something like a door . . . or someone’s arm?”
“They told me that they’d cover all my expenses. I’m not naïve. I understood what that meant.” Newton then added in a huffy voice, “But I want
you
to understand something, too. I never broke any laws, nor did I instruct any of my personnel to do so. I’ve always been a by-the-book cop.”
Gregg started to laugh and threw one arm over the back of the chair. “Oh, Newt, you were doing
so
well and then you had to go and ruin everything by lying to us.”
“I’m not lying. Everything we did was legal!”
“Does that include breaking into Vandenbosch’s apartment on Wednesday afternoon and trashing the place?” Gregg noticed the flicker of surprise that crossed Newton’s features and added, “Oh yeah, we know all about that.”
“We didn’t break in. The door was open and the apartment was already like that.”
“How convenient for you.”
After a quarter century in law enforcement, my natural instinct was to automatically mistrust anything a police administrator said. Yet, I believed Newton. It was easy to imagine how panicked he must have been on Wednesday afternoon. I couldn’t picture him wasting time vandalizing Kyle’s apartment when his lucrative position hung on retrieving the bear.
Then another disquieting thing occurred to me and I said, “No, Gregg; how convenient for
Kyle
.”
My old partner looked at me. “What are you thinking?”
I resisted the urge to slap the tabletop in frustration when I realized that we’d been fooled again. “It’s another freaking frame job! Kyle knew that the very first place that Lycaon security would go was his apartment. So, he trashed the place himself—”
“Because he knew the neighbors would notice the security guys going into the apartment and assume they committed the vandalism while searching for the bear,” Gregg finished the statement for me.
“And it worked. It’s what
we
thought happened,” said Aafedt.
Newton looked confused. “But what did he hope to gain by doing that?”
I replied, “To put your company on the defensive. I’m pretty certain Kyle’s original plan didn’t include a murder, but he did figure he’d end up being sued in civil court by Lycaon.”
“And?”
“He was going to sing the blues about how he’d been persecuted by the wicked capitalist pigs and their thugs. I imagine his version of the story was going to be that he was there at the apartment when you arrived and just managed to escape with his life.”
“Who would have believed that?” Newton demanded.
“His mother, for starters. That’s the tale he told her. And he also hired a PI to threaten her using the Lycaon name, to corroborate the persecution story. We all know that the story might have played well to a certain kind of northern California jury.”
“My hat is off to this kid,” said Gregg. “He’s been three steps ahead of everyone from the very beginning.”
“That’s because he’s planned this entire thing out like one of his computer games,” I said. “Mr. Newton, what did you do when you finished at Vandenbosch’s apartment?”
“Like I said, we went to interview Ms. Otero.”
Gregg said, “You keep saying
we.
Who was the other person that was with you that day?”
“His name is Cory Eldritch. He’s my special investigator,” said Newton. “He’s a former cop from my old department.”
“Is Mr. Eldritch here today?”
“Yes.”
“Good, because we’ll want to talk to him at some point.” Gregg consulted his notebook for a second and said, “Did you go anyplace else once you finished questioning Otero?”
Newton nodded. “Into San Francisco. Otero told us about Vandenbosch’s close relationship with his mother and we hoped he might be there.”
“Did you contact his mother?”
“No. We could see that she was alone and we didn’t want to let her know we were watching her house.”
“You could see her? How?” Gregg asked suspiciously.
“She was in a room upstairs, and the curtains were open. The lights were on and we could see her working on something.”
“And how long did you watch her?”
“Until about ten P.M. She turned the lights off shortly after that.”
“Meanwhile, you were waiting for Kyle’s wireless provider to call and tell you they’d done a GPS locate on his phone. Right?” I asked. “You didn’t have a search warrant, so how’d you persuade them to violate their right-to-privacy rules?”
Newton looked embarrassed. “We’re . . . uh . . . one of their software vendors. I don’t have any details on what was said to secure their cooperation.”
“Call me a cynic, but I’ll bet it was probably, ‘We’ll deposit the payment in your off-shore account right now.’ I hope the money was well spent.”
“It wasn’t successful. Vandenbosch’s cell phone hasn’t been turned on since Wednesday. We assume he knew we would try to track him that way.”
“So, you were dead in the water. Did something change on Thursday or Friday?”
“Not really.”
“Even though you’d assigned stake-out teams to follow Rhiannon and Kyle’s mom?” I added encouragingly, “Don’t look sheepish. It’s exactly what I would have done.”
Newton suddenly looked weary. “But you would have had trained professionals doing the surveillance. I have the Keystone Kops . . . wannabes who work security, because they can’t pass the police selection process.”
“Still, you tried to put the women under round-the-clock surveillance.”
“That was the plan, but my teams always lost contact with their targets.”
“Meanwhile, your board of directors was screaming for results.”
“Yes. That’s when I decided to discontinue the surveillance on Vandenbosch’s mother, and Eldritch and I would focus on following Otero.”
“And what day was that?”
“Saturday morning.”
Gregg asked, “How did your surveillance work out?”
Newton shrugged. “We kept close obs on her throughout the day, not that she went many places. Just shopping at the fashion park in Cupertino and then home. Oh, and she stopped to pick up some Thai food.”
“How long did you watch her?”
“Until about twenty-three hundred hours,” said Newton, using military time for 11 P.M.
“That’s damned interesting,” I said in an artificially hearty voice. “You had Rhiannon under surveillance all day, yet you didn’t see her drive up to Sonoma or back to San Francisco and stop at the Paladin Motel. So are you a Keystone Kop, too, or just a freaking liar?”
Twenty
Newton inhaled sharply and shot a panicked glance at the door.
“And there’s your answer,” Aafedt growled.
“Let’s try for another one. Who drives the black Dodge Avenger with the California plates of seven-ocean-charles-ocean-zero-two-six?” Gregg’s voice was colder than a Martian winter.
“It’s mine.” Newton’s voice was barely audible.
I sat back in my chair and gave the security director an evil grin. “My, my. I think we just took a giant step closer to identifying our gunman in the ski mask.”
“I had nothing to do with that murder.” Newton sagged into the chair.
“But you were out there,” said Gregg.
“Yes.”
“Were you armed?”
“No. I never carry a gun.”
“Good, then you won’t mind standing up and assuming the position so my partner makes certain that wasn’t another lie.” Gregg turned to Aafedt. “Pat him down for weapons.”
The security director stood up and put his hands against the wall as Aafedt conducted a thorough weapons search. However, Newton was telling the truth. He was unarmed.
Once Newton was again seated, Gregg asked, “Was Eldritch with you on Saturday night?”
“Yes.”
“Then call him and get him in here ASAP. And don’t even think about trying to warn him, unless you want me to drag you out the front door in handcuffs.”
“I’ll try. But he may not want to talk to you.”
Gregg turned to Aafedt. “Danny, jet out to the main gate and make sure Eldritch doesn’t try to escape.”
Aafedt gave the security director a glare and then jogged from the room. Meanwhile, Newton had pulled his phone from its holder on his belt and was pressing Eldritch’s number. Staring at us with frightened eyes, he told the special investigator to come to the conference room.
Disconnecting from the call, Newton said, “He said he’s on his way.”
“Good, and in the meantime you can tell us what you were doing at the Paladin,” said Gregg.
“I am not responsible for that murder.”
“What about Eldritch? Did he do it?”
“He
said
he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You weren’t there?”
“No, I was in the car. I never got out of the car.”
“Which was parked behind the liquor store down the block?”
“Yes.”
“And Eldritch was at the motel looking for Vandenbosch.”
“Yes.”
“Was your special investigator armed that night?”
“I don’t know. He could have been.”
“And when you heard all the gunfire and he came running back to your car, did it maybe occur to you to ask him if he was involved?” Gregg’s tone was laden with irony.
Newton was wiggling in his chair like an anxious toddler. “I think it would be best if I invoked my right to remain silent now.”
“Fine, the interview is over. You can leave or stay, I don’t care which, so long as you keep your mouth shut while we’re talking to Eldritch.”
“I’m not under arrest?” There was a faint trace of relief in Newton’s voice.
“Only because I don’t feel like spending half the day booking you and writing the paper. I’ll get a warrant and come back later. So, Newt, are you going to go or stay?” Gregg demanded.
“I’ll stay for now,” Newton mumbled.
“Okay, but keep one thing in mind. If you do anything to interrupt the interview, I’m going to book you and make sure that all the inmates find out you’re a cop.”
The door opened and Cory Eldritch came into the conference room. He had the unmistakable look of a burly ex-cop: dressed in that haphazard combination of Levi’s Dockers, an inexpensive sports jacket, and an out-of-style tie that passes for professional work apparel for California police detectives. Eldritch scanned the room and the look on his face said he smelled trouble. I didn’t get the sense he was dangerous, though, just frightened. Suddenly, I wasn’t so certain he was our killer.
“You wanted me, Mr. Newton?” he asked his boss.
“Please sit down, Mr. Eldritch. I’m Inspector Mauel from the San Francisco Police Department and we need to talk to you,” Gregg said.
“What’s this all about?” Eldritch was still standing in the doorway and suddenly looked ready to bolt.
Without thinking, I said, “Cory, your boss has just set you up big-time to take the fall on a One-Eighty-Seven. We think he’s lying, so we need your help.”
“I knew it. I told you, you stupid bastard! Didn’t I tell you? But you wouldn’t listen!” Eldritch snarled at Newton, who cringed.
“What did you tell him?”
“That we should have gone to police headquarters that night. But, oh, no!” Eldritch flung his arms skyward. “Slick Vic had one of his patented brainstorms and I’m such a freaking idiot, I went along with him.”
“Maybe it isn’t too late to undo the damage. Right, Gregg?”
He nodded. “That’s right. Your boss has decided to become a defendant. So, we’re still looking for a helpful witness.”
“Then sign me up, because I’m suddenly feeling
very
helpful.” Eldritch pushed the door shut behind him and sat down at the table as far as he could from Newton. “You’re awfully quiet, Vic. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Mr. Newton can’t say anything. If he does, Inspector Mauel is going to arrest him.”
Gregg said, “Before we get started, I need to make a quick call to let another detective know that you aren’t going to be trying to escape through the front gate.”
“Mr. Newton implied that you might bail,” I explained.
“Mr. Newton is going to wish I had,” said Eldritch.
Once Gregg had concluded the call, he gave me a subtle nod that I should continue in the role of primary interrogator. I knew he was hoping that Eldritch would view me as a more sympathetic audience, since I’d warned him about Newton’s machinations. We’d know in a minute.
“Cory, my name is Brad Lyon. I used to work homicide for SFPD, but now I’m medically retired.” I held up my cane. “However, I was called in as a consultant on this case and I’d like to ask you some questions. I’m hoping you can help us rectify some misinformation we’ve received.”
Eldritch glared hatefully at Newton and then looked back at me. “Am I under arrest?”
“Nope. You’re here voluntarily. You can end this interview any time you’d like and walk out of here.”
“Ask your questions.”
“Let’s start with the most obvious one. Did you shoot and kill that man at the Paladin Motel on Saturday night?”
“Absolutely not.”
“But you were there?”
“I was there, but I didn’t shoot anybody.”
“Do you own a handgun and have a concealed-carry permit?”
“I own several handguns and I have a valid CCW permit. And I already know your next question. Yes, I was armed that night. I was carrying this Glock forty cal.” Eldritch casually pulled his jacket open with his right hand to reveal a black semiautomatic pistol in a hip holster. “I’m assuming you’re going to want to test it at your ballistics unit.”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“None whatsoever. Would you like me to remove it from the holster?”
“Please, and I’ll take it,” said Gregg.
Eldritch slowly took his gun from the holster and handed it to Gregg, who unloaded the weapon and slipped it into his briefcase.
I said, “Okay, here’s a fun question. Did Mr. Newton shoot and kill that man?”
Eldritch gave Newton a malicious smile and there was a long pause before he said, “No, he was in his car.”
I said, “I applaud you for your honesty. I don’t know if I would have done the same if I were in your position. Next question: Do you know who killed the man in that motel room?”