Chapter 30
The address the FBI had provided for Ethan Cole was Shady Side Mobile Home Park, number six.
Shady Side was on the outskirts of Somerset in a run-down part of town that featured pawn shops, cash-your-paycheck-early storefront operations, and businesses that sold anything and everything at “low, Low, LOW discount prices.” Jojo was sure nobody selling that merchandise had made any effort to determine if it was either authentic or stolen.
“If you had to build a movie set for the place some dude was cooking meth, it’d look a lot like this,” Jojo said, and Conor smiled.
Conor got out of the cruiser and put his hat back on.
Jojo was always sorry to see him cover up the shock of unruly red hair that any woman she knew would have killed for.
Conor knocked on the door and called out, “I’m Pennsylvania State Police Lieutenant Conor McCaffrey, I’d like to talk to Ethan Cole.”
No one answered.
He knocked again. “Mr. Cole, we know you’re in there. I’d like a word with you, please. I can get a warrant, but I’d rather not do that.” Which was a bluff, but maybe Ethan Cole didn’t know that. “I’ve just got a few questions.”
The man who opened the door was wearing a navy blue Penn State sweatshirt and jeans.
Jojo recognized him as the protester who had accosted her and Miriam the night of the shooting.
A cigarette hung from his lower lip in that way reminiscent of Marlon Brando and she figured if he was able to talk without it falling out, he’d practiced hard to acquire the skill.
“May we come in, Mr. Cole?” Conor asked.
“No, you may not.” He got that far before he reached up and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “What do you wa—?” Then he noticed Jojo, really saw her, and recognized who she was.
“You!” He growled the word. “So you’re a cop! Which means I can file a complaint against you for using unnecessary force on a peaceful?—”
“I’m not a police officer.”
He looked disappointed but angrier. “Just a pushy, mean bitch then, huh.” He looked at Conor.
“She attacked me—jumped me from behind.” His eyes returned to Jojo, filled with unspent rage.
“What goes around, comes around, sweet meat. If I’s you, I’d watch my back.
” He could see Conor’s reaction and held up his hand.
“Not threatening nobody, just commenting on the nature of the universe.”
“But you did threaten Rick Dalton, the owner of—” Conor began.
“The late owner of. He was one got shot, wasn’t he?” Recognition dawned on the man’s face. “And you’re here because you think I shot him.”
“Did you?” Jojo asked.
The man threw his head back and laughed. “And you think I’m stupid enough to tell you if I did.” He barked another grunt of laughter.
“You did write letters to Mr. Dalton. I have copies of them.”
“Fine. I wrote letters.”
“Threatening letters,” Jojo said.
The man glared at Jojo. “‘Threat’ is a matter of interpretation,” he said, pointing his finger in her face. Then he lifted his thumb, making the gesture into a gun. He mouthed the word, “Bang!” and jerked his hand back in recoil.
Turning on Conor, he dialed in his rant.
“That son of a bitch deserved to die, but getting shot was way too merciful. He shoulda died slow and painful. He was a spoiler! An annihilator. He ruined nature, a thing you can’t undo.
Once it’s gone, it’s gone for good, because men are too stupid to replicate it.
Can put a man on the moon but can’t put earthworms in the soil or chicken hawks in the sky. ”
He spit on the porch. “Rich bastard destroyed environments and ecosystems, acted like he was ‘environmentally conscious’ because he recycled soda cans in the lodge.”
As Cole continued to rant, Jojo looked past him into the dimly lit interior of the trailer. On the wall behind him were the mounted heads of two impressive bucks with big racks. Apparently, he wasn’t opposed to “destroying” wildlife.
He finally ran down and told Conor, “I’ve got nothing else to say to you.”
“But you do admit that you wrote threatening?—?”
“Are you deaf? I have nothing else to say. You want to talk to me, take me in.” He held out his wrists for cuffs.
“And I’ll call my attorney. The Earth Liberation Front, Make Trees Not War.
We have lawyers on retainer for just this kind of situation, where the police try to harass protesters for exercising their constitutional rights. ”
“Nobody’s questioning your right to protest, Mr. Cole. We want to know about your threats?—”
“I don’t care what you want to know. This conversation is over. You take me in, my lawyer will show up, he will advise me not to say a single syllable, and I will take his advice. We’re done!”
Cole slammed the door in their faces.
Conor turned and walked down the steps with Jojo behind him. They’d left Trident in the car because sometimes his mere presence was intimidating enough to freak out a witness.
They got into the car and Jojo was grateful that it was still warm.
Conor sat back in the seat. “Well, that was productive. You certainly left him with fond memories.”
“He claimed to be a ‘Legion of One,’ telling me it was time for 11:18.”
“Got any idea what that means?”
“I didn’t at the time, but when I mentioned it at home, Uncle Jonas pointed out that Bible verses were identified with numbers like that—John 3:16. So the numbers, but not the book. There are 39 books in the Old Testament—46 in the Catholic Bible. And 27 in the New Testament.”
“As many as a hundred different books?—”
“Not all of them have 11 chapters.”
“The FBI geeks can figure out?—”
“They don’t have to. You didn’t let me finish. My Uncle Levi said his best guess would be Revelations 11:18 which roughly translates ‘the time has come to destroy those who destroy the earth.’”
Conor started the cruiser and pulled away from the trailer. “I want to know if he’s been busted for any violent crimes or arrested on a firearms charge.”
“And I wonder if he has a hunting permit for Pennsylvania. I’d be surprised if he did. You have to complete a hunter education class before they’ll issue a permit, state requirement, no exceptions. Does he strike you as the kind of guy who’d be willing to go to a hunting class?”
“If the FBI flags previous arrests on gun charges, I’m going to bring him in.”
“He’ll lawyer up.”
“He’s a loudmouth with a short fuse. It wouldn’t be hard to piss him off and no telling what he might say before his lawyer shows up to tell him to shut up.”
She smiled at him. “Well, he is a Legion of One.” She froze. “Legion of One … do you get it?”
“Get what?”
“On the shell casings. One said ‘Payback’s a bitch,’ and that fits. Payback for destroying the earth. But LOO. The FBI came up with a bajillion words those initials could stand for.”
Jojo had seen a printout of the list of possibilities, and she’d just rolled her eyes. But one that wasn’t on the list was “Legion of One.”