Page 29 of Nightshade

STILWELL HAD AN unexpected guest waiting for him when he got back to the sub. Mercy reported that the missing Henry Gaston had walked in and told her he was in danger and needed to speak to Stilwell. She gave him a Diet Coke and put him in the interview room.

“He’s nervous,” she said. “He says he needs protection.”

Stilwell nodded as he looked down at her computer screen, which displayed the image of Gaston sitting in the lately busy interview room. He was leaning forward, arms on the table, both hands clutching the can Mercy had given him.

“All right, I’m going in to talk to him,” Stilwell said. “You get anything yet on the Prada shoes?”

“Actually, yes,” Mercy said. “I identified them as satin cutout pumps that retail for fourteen hundred dollars new.”

Stilwell could not comprehend how shoes with a few straps and four-inch heels could cost so much.

“I was also correct when I said you can’t get these shoes directly through Amazon,” Mercy continued. “They’re available through retail outlets like Nordstrom and Neiman Marcus and Prada’s own shops. There’s one on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. But here is a cool thing that may help you: They’re chipped.”

“What do you mean, ‘chipped’?”

“There’s a huge counterfeit market for designer stuff. Prada puts radio-frequency identification chips in its products to help detect counterfeits as well as for supply-chain tracking. So if you buy something you think is Prada, you can go into a Prada store, and they have a chip reader that will tell you not only if it’s real but when it was manufactured and where it was sold.”

“That’s perfect.”

“The chip readers are only at Prada, though—they don’t have them at Nordstrom. I called the store in Beverly Hills and they said they could check the chip in these pumps, but you’ll have to go over there.”

“It’s looking like I may have to go across for other things anyway. I could go to Beverly Hills. Great work, Mercy.”

“Well, it doesn’t mean they can tell you who bought them, but if you narrow it down to the point of purchase, you might get lucky.”

“You never know. It’s definitely worth a shot.” He pointed at her screen. “Are you recording?”

“I was waiting for you to get back. I’ll start the recording now.”

Stilwell went to get another Diet Coke. He now had two mainland leads—the Prada pumps and Daniel Easterbrook—that he could pass on to Sampedro and Ahearn, but he was reluctant to give them up. He knew he would risk the ire of his two temporary partners as well as Captain Corum if he didn’t, but he had momentum and didn’t want to lose it while waiting for moves to be made by people he didn’t have confidence in. He knew he was once more crossing a line but would do it without hesitation.

Stilwell got a rights waiver out of the wall-mounted caddy next to the interview room. The moment he opened the door and stepped in, Gaston jumped up and started talking in staccato bursts like a machine gun.

“You gotta help me, man,” he said. “They’re going to take me out. And for what? A fucking side of beef? They’re going to take me out for a stupid buffalo?”

Stilwell put up his free hand and made a calming motion. “Okay, slow down, Henry,” he said. “Let’s just sit and talk about this rationally. Okay?”

“I can’t sit down, man. I’m fucking scared. They’re looking for me. I saw them.”

“Sit. Please. Then we’ll talk.”

Stilwell put the Diet Coke on the table and sat down. He picked up the can on Gaston’s side and shook it. It was empty.

“I don’t know if I should give you another one of these. You’re riding a little too much caffeine.”

“I need it. I’m still thirsty.”

“Okay, take it. But drink it slow. Okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

Gaston finally sat down. Stilwell noticed that his blue jumpsuit was dirty and greasy and was possibly the same thing he had been wearing when Stilwell last saw him at the Island Mystery Tours cart barn. Gaston opened the second can and took a large gulp.

“Okay, Henry, I was told you want to talk to me. Is that true?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll tell you everything, but you’ve got to take care of me.”

Stilwell slid the single-page document across the table to Gaston.

“All right, that’s a rights waiver. You need to sign it if you’re going to talk to me. But first I’m going to read it to you.”

He slid the page back and read it slowly and loudly, then said, “Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“That you have a right to an attorney. And that what you tell me today can be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand all of that, Henry?”

“But you’re going to make me a deal.”

“Well, before we can talk about that, you have to sign that you understand your rights.”

“Okay, I’ll sign. Give me a pen.”

“You have to answer first. Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?”

“Yes, I understand. Jesus, why is it so complicated?”

“It’s actually not. So, you understand and you’re willing to waive your rights so we can talk?”

“Yes, I told you.”

Stilwell pulled the pen out of his shirt pocket and handed it across the table.

Gaston signed the document and slapped the pen down on top of it. Stilwell put the pen back in his pocket and pulled the document to his side of the table.

“Okay, Henry, let’s start with where you’ve been for the past few days. Did you know your wife reported you as a missing person?”

“I couldn’t tell her where I was. They’d be able to get it out of her.”

“So where were you?”

“I was camping up near Eagle’s Nest.”

Stilwell had been up there. It was on the west side of the island. He’d gone out there on a Catalina Island Conservancy ecotour as part of his learning process when he was first transferred from the mainland.

“What made you come back?” he asked.

“Because I can’t stay out there forever. I got a wife and I gotta figure things out.”

“What are you looking for from me, Henry?”

Gaston held his hands up, wrists together like they were cuffed.

“I want to stay out of jail, man. I only did what I was told. It was that or lose my job, and now I’m fucked. He wants me dead.”

“Who wants you dead?”

“Baby Head. I know too much. I heard he brought somebody over to do it.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, man.”

“Well, who told you that?”

“I don’t want to get anybody else in trouble. I just know. Once you came to the barn and took the saw handle, the shit hit the fan. I knew then he was looking at me funny. Like I was no longer on the team, you know? I was somebody he had to deal with.”

“Killing you is sort of extreme, don’t you think?”

“You don’t know these people like I know them. They do whatever they want, and I’m fucked.”

“All right, Henry. This is what I can do. If you tell me what happened up there with the buffalo, I’ll go to bat for you. I can’t promise you a deal that keeps you out of jail, but I will protect you here. Tomorrow morning when the DA is here for court, we’ll sit with her and she’ll evaluate what you have and make a deal or not. You understand how that will work?”

“That’s bullshit. I need something solid. I need you to get me off the island and to someplace safe. My wife too.”

Stilwell shook his head.

“It doesn’t work that way. I can put you in a cell here overnight. Monika Juarez, the deputy DA who handles court here, will be coming in tonight for court tomorrow. I’ll meet with her either tonight or first thing in the morning and we’ll try to work something out. But before we get to that, you need to tell me what you can give her to make a deal.”

“Fuck me.”

“Yeah, that’s about right. But you need to choose which way you want to go. Should I leave you here to think about it? I can bring in a phone if you want to call your wife to talk it over.”

“No, man, I talked to her. She’s scared to death they’ll go after her to get to me.”

“That seems unlikely. We’re talking about a dead buffalo.”

“No, man, I know more. I heard things. This is big, man. This is the Big Wheel. Him and the mayor had their meetings out at the barn, and I was there.”

“The mayor? What are you talking about? What meetings?”

“I’m not saying till I have a deal.”

“Henry, we’re talking in circles here. There is no deal; we’re not even going to talk about a deal until you tell me what you can provide. It’s called a proffer. I take it to the DA and then she makes the call on what she’s willing to do. Understand?”

“Fuck me.”

“Yeah, you said that. Now you have to decide if you want my help or not.”

Gaston raised his hands and wearily rubbed his face. He was all over the place but Stilwell was intrigued about what he was hinting at—the things he had overheard, his mention of the mayor. And then the tip Stilwell had received from Lionel McKey about the Big Wheel project. Stilwell felt as though he was fishing in dark water and something down there was nibbling at the bait. He could feel it. He had to be patient and wait to set the hook.

“I’ll let you think on it for a while,” Stilwell said. “Just knock on the door if—”

“No, man, I don’t need to think anymore,” Gaston said. “Let’s do this. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“You sure, now?”

“I’m sure.”