Chapter 4
STILWELL SPENT FOUR hours in the interview room repeating his story to Simon and then two other investigators on the team. The windowless room was rank with bad breath and body odor by the time Captain Corum came in. He left the door open.
“Let’s air this place out,” he said. “What’s all this?”
Like Simon, he was looking at the collection of stacked boxes and other belongings lining the wall.
The captain was tall and thin. He always dressed in a sharp black suit to match his unnaturally black hair.
He completed the ensemble with a white shirt and a colorful tie.
He was in his mid-fifties and had a two-tone face—deeply tanned from his eyes down, his forehead a hat-protected pearl white.
He spent much of his weekends on a golf course.
“Lost-and-found,” Stilwell said.
“You sure there isn’t something dead in there someplace?” Corum said.
“Maybe. Am I clear?”
“You’re clear. For now. But you’re grounded until we see how this shakes out. I want you staying in the sub.”
“Twiddling my thumbs?”
“You know how it works. Give us a few days to put the package together and send it up to the boss.”
Stilwell knew that the elected sheriff would need to sign off on any after-action discipline.
“Am I getting thrown under the bus, Cap?” Stilwell asked.
“You, no,” Corum said. “As far as we can tell, they probably didn’t clear the plane properly. There was somebody besides the pilot hiding on board and he got the drop on them.”
Stilwell did not nod, though he was thinking the same thing.
“You really didn’t hear any gunshots?” Corum asked.
Stilwell paused for a moment. Was Corum suggesting he needed to change his story?
“No, I didn’t,” he finally answered. “But like I told everybody, I was chasing a gas-powered ATV and was down the side of the mountain. Not sure I would’ve heard the shots.”
“It’s just that if a suppressor was used…”
“Why would a guy have a suppressor on an airdrop?”
Corum didn’t answer. Stilwell changed the subject.
“What about the guy I chased?” he asked. “He’s probably still on the island. I should be out there looking for him.”
“That’s not happening, Stil,” Corum said. “You’re on the bench.”
“So nobody is looking for him?”
“We’re looking for him. We’re just a little short on manpower at the moment. But in the morning we’ll have people at the docks in Long Beach and San Pedro checking everybody who gets off the boats from here.”
Stilwell thought about that and decided not to criticize the plan. He changed the subject again.
“Did you talk to Quigley’s wife?” he asked.
“I did not,” Corum said. “Notification of the family was handled by Ahearn and Sampedro over there.”
“Great. They’re on this?”
“They’re not. I just needed somebody to make the notification. I know enough now to keep your orbits separate.”
“Thank you.”
There was long-standing enmity between Stilwell and Ahearn, going back to Stilwell’s prior posting in the homicide unit. It was their dislike of each other that had led to Stilwell’s transfer to Catalina. And things had only gotten worse last year when they both worked a murder case on the island.
“They trace the ATV yet?” Stilwell asked.
“They did,” Corum said. “It was reported stolen last night before the shit hit the fan.”
“I didn’t get any report on that.”
“It came in while you were up there on the stakeout. The owner called it in, and the deputy you left down here—who was that?”
“O’Connor.”
“O’Connor went up and took the report.”
Stilwell just nodded. He knew he could get that report and talk to O’Connor for further details. Corum seemed to be able to read him.
“I know what you’re thinking, Stil,” he said. “But you’re staying away from this. You’re a witness, not an investigator. Clear?”
“Yes,” Stilwell said. “Clear.”
“Good. So, let’s talk about media. Same thing. You are not part of this. Direct all inquiries to me or the media unit. I don’t want to see your name in any paper, including that little rag they publish out here. Comprende?”
“Comprendo. What about reporters from the mainland coming out here and poking around?”
“Let them do what they do but don’t help them and don’t talk to them. Like I said, refer all media requests to the mainland.”
“Roger that.”
“Last thing—you have space in your bunk room for Simon? We’re taking the chopper back but he’s going to stay here so he can check out the crime scene when the sun comes up.
” Corum looked at his watch. “Which won’t be for a few hours,” he said.
“If there’s room, I’ll tell him he can catch some sleep until then. ”
“There’s room,” Stilwell said.
“Good. The rest of us are leaving and you’re clear to go home.”
“Okay.”
Corum raised his chin toward the lost-and-found wall.
“And I would use some of your downtime in the sub to clean all this up,” he said. “Make things more professional around here.”
“Good idea,” Stilwell said.