Long Lost - James Scott Bell Page 0,95
also testify to ritual abuse carried on up there.”
“Abuse of who?”
“Her. And the other women LaSalle keeps there.”
“Is this your only witness?”
“Me too.”
“You were their lawyer, weren’t you?”
“I was, until they tried to kill me. I consider that a breach of the attorney-client relationship.”
“Still, they may be able to keep any statements you make about them out of a trial. You got anything else?”
“You’ve got probable cause to search the place. You can get a team together and go up and look for evidence of conspiracy. You can bring in a bunch of them and start with the questioning.”
“On what charge?”
“Weapons. Bethany here will tell you about the weapons. She doesn’t think there’s a permit to be had for any of them.”
Mal Meyer took a contemplative breath. “I can get a warrant, but I need it to be as specific as possible. If we’re going after the big fish, we need a big net.”
“Then there’s one other man you need to talk to. His name’s Hendrickson. He works at Bruck’s Mortuary. I have a feeling he knows a lot more than he’s willing to tell. You feel up to pulling a bluff?”
“What kind of bluff?”
“Like on Law & Order. You know, where the cops say they have a witness against some guy and offer him a deal if he talks now.”
“I never watched that show.”
“You should. You’ll be inspired by Sam Waterston.”
Meyer said, “Keep going.”
Steve put his head back on the seat. “You mind if we wait until I get this thing looked at? I’m feeling a little beat up at the moment.”
“He’s been fantastic,” Bethany said.
Steve shook his head. “She’s the fantastic one. Just wait till you hear the whole thing.”
“I’m busting at the seams,” Meyer said.
The hospital was bigger than the one in Verner, as was this whole town. There was even a five-story Hyatt within shouting distance. Probably a place for the serious skiers, hunters, and fishermen to hang their collective hats on their way to various points of interest.
They patched Steve up in emergency. He escaped infection, but not a zipper-like line of sutures. They pumped something into his veins. They fitted him for crutches and sent him out at 12:35 p.m.
Mal Meyer and Bethany were in the waiting area, talking. Or rather it was Bethany talking and Meyer jotting notes.
Myer stood when Steve came in. “She’s spinning quite a tale,” he said. “I want to question this guy Hendrickson, too. I want enough to go to a grand jury.”
“How about the feds?” Steve asked.
“I can try to bring in ATF.”
“The feds are already on this. There’s two agents in LA, Issler and Weingarten. You had contact?”
“No.”
“They’re working this thing somehow. But before you talk to them, get to Hendrickson. But do it on the QT. Think you can?”
“QT?”
“Don’t you ever watch old movies?”
“No time for that.”
“It means on the low-down,” Steve said. “No fanfare. Not yet. Mott is involved.”
“Mott! You got proof of that?”
“Oh I got proof. But you just ask Mr. Hendrickson to come in. Tell him not to say anything to anyone, under threat of indictment.”
“What indictment?”
“Make something up. Just bring him in.”
At which Mal Meyer smiled like a mischievous kid. “You LA guys really do march to a different beat.”
70
They got back to the DA’s office around three. Meyer took his Saturn into the private below-ground lot, the same place the sheriff’s bus would drop prisoners off for court. There was a private elevator for law and court personnel. Meyer guided Steve and Bethany up to the fifth floor, which was relatively devoid of activity. Like a guy leading prison escapees, Meyer led Bethany and Steve to a small conference room halfway down a corridor.
Only a woman carrying a stack of files saw them. She nodded at Meyer like there was nothing amiss. Just another day at the office.
Meyer locked the conference room door from the inside. “You’ll be able to kick back here,” he said to Steve.
Kick back? “What are you going to do?”
“Persuade. I want to get that Hendrickson in here if I can. And I want to get a full account. Oh yeah, and those federal agents. Names again?”
“Issler and Weingarten,” Steve said. “You can just tell them a Mr. Conroy referred them.”
Meyer jotted it down on the little pad he carried. “I’ll have one of the clerks look in on you. Take care of anything you need.”
“Thanks,” Steve said.
Meyer left the room.
“Now what happens?” Bethany asked.
“We are in the jaws of the system now,” Steve said. “We wait.