Chapter 10
STILWELL CALLED THE number Kaufman had given him for Renée Ballard. The phone was answered by a man.
“Cold-Case Unit, Laffont.”
“Yes, I’d like to speak to Detective Ballard.”
“She’s tied up. Can I help you?”
“I want to talk to her about a case she’s working.”
“Which one would that be?”
“Angela Metier. It’s a missing persons case.”
“I can help you with that. Who am I speaking to?”
Stilwell hesitated. He knew that squad rooms could be as competitive as any office environment; there were backstabbings and fierce loyalties and employees with trust issues. He didn’t know what the LAPD cold-case squad was like.
“Detective Sergeant Stilwell, L.A. County Sheriff’s,” he finally responded.
“And you have information on Angela?” Laffont said.
“I want to speak to Detective Ballard about it. Can I leave a message?”
“Can I ask what made you call here?”
“I called Kaufman in Missing Persons. He told me to call Detective Ballard in cold cases because she’d taken it over.”
“And why did you call Kaufman, Sergeant Stilwell?”
“I work out on Catalina and found her backpack. I heard that years ago Kaufman worked her case in Missing Persons.”
“Okay, can you hold on a second?”
Stilwell was put on hold before he could reply. He waited nearly a minute before the connection went live again.
“Sergeant Stilwell?” Laffont said. “You’re on speaker with Detective Ballard and myself.”
“Hello, Sergeant, this is Renée,” Ballard said. “My colleague says you think you have Angela Metier’s backpack.”
“I know I do,” Stilwell said.
“I admire your certainty, but she’s been gone a long time,” Ballard said. “Where did you find it?”
“It was turned in to the lost-and-found at the Avalon substation two months ago,” Stilwell said.
“A black-and-white Hyperlite Unbound pack. There was a key ring in the bag with a Medeco key that I was able to trace to Angela through a locksmith stamp. I reviewed video from the harbor cameras and I have grainy video and stills of a man leaving the backpack on a bench so it would be found.”
There was no response from Ballard or Laffont. Stilwell guessed that they were looking at each other and silently debating whether to bring him in or shut him out. He decided to push things further.
“You obviously took the case away from Missing Persons because it matched up with or at least had similarities to something you were working,” Stilwell said.
Still no response.
“Probably it was a case with bodies on the ground,” Stilwell continued. “I might be able to help you with that. I worked homicide in the past.”
“You’re making a lot of assumptions, Sergeant,” Ballard said.
“I call them hunches,” Stilwell said. “And my hunch is that one of your victims drove a Ford. An older model.”
This time there was no hesitation in the response.
“What makes you say that?” Ballard asked.
“Because the key ring I found in the pack had five keys on it. One was the Medeco,” Stilwell said, “and there was also a key with a Ford logo on it, which doesn’t make sense, because Angela Metier drove a Mini Cooper.”
Back to the silent treatment.
“Anybody there?” Stilwell asked.
“We’re here,” Ballard said. “You have a first name, Sergeant?”
“I do,” Stilwell said. “But people call me Stil.”
“Well, Stil, I think we need to see the backpack and the key ring,” Ballard said. “When can we come pick them up?”
“I’ll bring them to you,” Stilwell said. “As long as you bring me into the case.”
“I’m not sure how that would work,” Ballard said. “We’ve been working this case for over a year now and I can’t—”
“I get it,” Stilwell interrupted. “You know the case and I don’t. But I know the island and you don’t. So talk to whoever you need to talk to about this and give me a call once you decide what you’re doing.”
He started to give the sub’s telephone number.
“Hold on, hold on,” Ballard said. “I’m sure we can work something out. Interagency cooperation is always a good thing.”
This time it was Stilwell who went quiet.
“Did we lose you?” Ballard asked.
“No, I’m here,” Stilwell said. “I nailed it about the Ford key, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Ballard said. “When can you bring the backpack to us?”
“I’m off tomorrow,” Stilwell said. “I’ll take a boat over.”
“Perfect,” Ballard said.