Chapter Seven #5
“Uh, lock doors? There are no windows in half of the bottom floor because I can’t hire anyone to put plywood up to seal it because I can’t get permits.
Hey, can you get me permits? Or maybe tell them it needs to be sealed up as a crime scene?
I’ll pay for everything. If you tell them it’s a nightmare, maybe they might believe it. ”
Oh, she wasn’t going to do anything. That was a civil matter, and he was on his own. Elizabeth didn’t wade into issues like this for a good reason.
Not her circus.
Not her monkeys.
“Well, Mr. Slater…”
He stopped her.
“Devon. Please.”
She could do that, and she changed the focus without answering his question.
“Devon. We found something disturbing. When we were called to the building, the cops had found a room. Locked inside it, there were skulls and eyes.”
He blinked.
“What? Skulls? Eyes?”
She pulled out her phone, and showed him one of the pictures.
“This.”
The second he saw it, he gasped, and then picked up his phone. He began dialing.
“That’s it! That shithole is gone. MY attorney is going to have to deliver what he’s promised with this goddamn city council. Now, my name is attached to that! Jesus Christ! I swear my father is laughing at me from his grave!”
Oh, there was no shock he was upset.
Who wouldn’t be?
A serial killer had made a home base in one of his buildings.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he said, crossing himself. When someone answered, he spoke. “Jessica, when Larry gets in, have him call me. No. Have him come over. Tell him it’s an emergency and is in regards to the FBI!”
Then, he hung up.
“I’m sorry. Are those really eyeballs in jars?” he asked, gagging a little as he pushed her phone away.
She nodded.
“Yep. Someone made a whole display of the crazy, and in your building. I’m here to figure out who.”
He closed his eyes.
“Dad, you fucked me good on this one,” he muttered. Then, he stared at them.
His green eyes were troubled.
“Tell me how to help? What do I do in this case? I don’t now own skulls and eyeballs, right? I couldn’t possibly inherit that along with this nightmare, could I?”
She calmed him down.
Honestly, she was worried about him. His voice was higher, and he looked about ready to burn the building down—on his own.
Rightfully so.
She had a gold-baron’s mansion, she felt like that about.
Only, she needed that scene just in case the techs had to redo it.
“You don’t own eyeballs. It’s evidence. We’ve removed it, but we need to figure out what the hell went on there. Do you have security?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Thank you for getting that mess out of there for me. As for security, yes, a private company drives by, like at a mall. It’s Farmington Security,” he said.
“They do a drive by twice a night between eleven and six in the morning to keep it looter and encampment-free. If the city catches the homeless there, they fine me.”
To make sure she had everything, Devon found the information on the computer, and printed it out. He rolled over, and grabbed the paper.
“Here’s the contact. When I acquired it last year, I couldn’t do security cameras. There’s no power to the building. Again, I can’t get it turned on without permits. See my conundrum and the council nightmare? I didn’t think it could be worse, but here we are.”
Well, this was about as bad as it got.
When his phone buzzed, his secretary gave him the heads-up.
“Your attorney is here.”
He glanced over at Elizabeth.
“Can he come back? Or do you want to do this alone?” he asked, giving her the choice.
Oh, well, why not kill two interviews with one stop?
“Let him back.”
He told his secretary.
Then, he hung up.
“Devon, we know this is not fun for you, but we will do all we can to help you through this. My suggestion is this, and I’m not one to recommend breaking the law.
Hire someone to close it up. Getting fined by the city for doing ‘construction’ without permits is a far better option than having someone continue on with this mess. ”
He nodded.
“Oh, I am. Fuck the permits, but excuse my French, Director. I’m just frustrated and angry.
My father’s legacy, and mine, shouldn’t be this.
He was a philanthropist. Do you know how difficult it is to continue that when you have a bunch of eyeballs in a jar tied to your name?
That’s horrifying! Someone is out of their damn minds! ”
Oh, no one knew better than her. Unfortunately, eyeballs in a jar were a norm in her world.
Oddly enough.
When the door opened, in came the man, and he hauled ass. It was clear that Larry was worried.
Big-time.
He was in a relatively pricy suit, and shiny shoes. The bad combover wasn’t helping him out at all.
“Don’t say another thing, Devon. Whatever the FBI wants, they can’t ask you anything without a warrant or me here!”
Elizabeth stood up.
The man came to a stop, and stared at her.
“What is it that you’re accusing my client of doing, Director?” he asked, practically jumping down her throat.
Devon sighed.
“Calm down, Larry. She’s not accusing me. That rundown shit shack building has a dead body and eyeballs in it. Once more, your inability to get the city to let me demolish it or to build apartments has bitten me in the ass.”
He blinked.
“Eyeballs?”
She pulled out her phone and showed him the one picture she’d showed Devon.
The man looked horrified.
“Oh, Jesus,” he said, crossing himself.
Yeah, he could say that again.
“So you’re not in trouble?” he asked. “Then why did you need to see me urgently?”
He poured the man some coffee from the carafe and handed him a cup.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because my fucking building has a dead body in it, and you’ve promised me that you’d get the city to let me have the permits?
Maybe because I pay you to handle things like this, since it’s not legal for the city to cockblock me on that building.
Or maybe because the head of the council is infringing on my rights to get a permit?
Or how about the goddamn Deputy Director of the FBI had to come to my office to tell me that I have a dead body and body part infestation? Are any of those valid enough for you?”
Elizabeth sat back down, trying not to laugh. It wasn’t easy, either. Devon was not amused, and she didn’t blame him. He had a crime scene in one of his properties, and that put suspicion on him, even if he hadn’t been involved.
Like with he who found the body, he who owned the property also got fingers pointed at them.
The man being yelled at yelled back.
“I’m trying, Devon! Trenton Balkin, that douchebag, won’t give me an inch. I’ve been trying to do everything but bribe them to get it done.”
Well, there was that name again.
Now, they really had her attention.
Whenever a name came up multiple times from multiple people on a case, it warranted some consideration.
Devon glanced over, as something made him pause.
“Director, if I bribe a city official in order to get permits to stop shit like this from happening, is that illegal?”
She nodded in amusement.
“Yep.”
He sighed.
Then, he sat and steepled his fingers.
“Well, then, arson it is. If I’m going to jail, at least I’m going to enjoy it when I dump the gasoline on that nightmare!”
She stopped him.
“Maybe don’t do that until after I finish my investigation, please,” she said, amused.
He was to the point.
“I’ll try, but it’s on my nerves,” he admitted.
Somehow, he managed to calm down, and Elizabeth gave him credit for that. He looked ready to blow. Whatever technique he was using, she needed to learn.
Finally, he spoke.
“Director, you have my apology, and I want to help in any way I can. You can have access to anything I have in order to find who did this. I’ll also help with any monetary issues for whoever needs it. If someone was killed, and stored there, they need those eyes back.”
His attorney protested.
“Uh, Devon, that’s implying blame. You don’t want the liability.”
He stopped him.
“Larry. Shut up. There are people who died. They deserve decency. You know my father demanded that, and I’m going to uphold that.”
She shared.
“We don’t know who they are yet, but we will. When we do, I’ll contact you. Thank you for your time, Devon.”
She shook his hand.
Then, she focused on the lawyer.
“And what’s your full name, Larry? You know…for my report.”
The man blinked.
And hesitated.
Only, the man who paid his salary didn’t.
“He’s Lawrence Springer,” Devon offered. “Give her your card, Larry. I’m sure she’ll be contacting you again as you finally get the council to handle this!”
The man did.
When she passed it off to Gene, he already knew what they’d be doing.
RESEARCH.
As she headed out, she could hear Larry talking to Devon, telling him he should never talk to the cops without representation. That he wasn’t accustomed to his ‘new-fangled’ ways of handling things unlike his father.
Devon told him to calm down, and that he was going to help the FBI because it was the right thing to do.
Yeah, Larry seemed suspicious.
And hesitant for his client to help them.
That made her want to focus on Larry. People who had things to hide, tended to be twitchy around her.
Oh, and Larry was definitely twitchy.
“I want him run,” she said, and Gene already knew who she meant.
When someone was wary of the FBI, and for no logical reason, there was always some hidden reason. He’d been sweating and acting odd.
That was a problem for her.
And now him.
Exiting the man’s office, they waved goodbye to the secretary and picked up Ivan before heading outside. After they cleared the building, they climbed into the vehicle.
Ethan had been getting the updates on the whole thing, and had been focusing on a profile.
“Devon Slater seems like he is bothered by this, whereas Larry is bothered by you,” he said, after his wife and Gene parked their asses in the seats.
Callen agreed.
“That was quite the end to the interview. What do you think is going on there?” he asked.
Bullshittery.