Chapter Thirty-Six
Audrey Packer and Chad Remington had been assigned to the Raymond Castor case as soon as the connection to the Lucifer’s Disciples was made.
When they arrived at Castor’s house, they found firefighters dealing with the blaze, two dead men in the front yard, and the charred remains of a third man in the ruins of Castor’s kitchen.
After leaving Castor’s house, the detectives drove to Karen Wyatt’s condo to talk to her and Morris Johnson. When they saw how exhausted they were and the wound in Wyatt’s arm, the detectives agreed to put off taking their statements.
An APB had gone out with a description of the shooter’s car and the license plate.
On the way back to the station, the detectives learned that Derek Baines had been arrested and was being held for them in an interrogation room.
They were at the head of the corridor that led to the room when they saw district attorneys Ellen Kaufman and Oscar Vanderlasky walking toward them.
“Hi, Ellen,” Audrey said. “What are you doing here?”
“Oscar and I just finished talking to Derek Baines, the Disciple who shot Raymond Castor and Karen Wyatt.”
“We got lucky,” Vanderlasky said. “Baines was nabbed a few blocks from one of the garages the Disciples use as a chop shop. Baines and his car would have disappeared if he’d made it to the garage.”
“Did you get anything out of him?” Chad asked.
“He says he doesn’t know what we were talking about,” Ellen said.
“We’ll take a shot,” Chad said. “We can compare notes.”
“Sounds good,” Ellen said.
“What the fuck!” Audrey fumed as soon as the DAs were out of hearing range. “They had no business talking to Baines before we did.”
“What’s done is done,” Chad said, but it was clear that he was just as upset as his partner. “Let’s see if we have better luck.”
Before they started questioning Baines, the detectives watched him on the camera feed that let them see inside the interview room. The prisoner looked exhausted. His head drooped, and his eyes closed from time to time. When Packer and Remington walked in, Baines looked up.
“Which one of you is the good cop and which one is the bad cop?” he asked.
Chad smiled. “You watch too many police shows, Derek. We left our rubber hoses in our office, and we’re both very nice cops.” Chad handed Baines the cup of coffee he was holding. “See?”
Baines smiled. He was tired, but he wasn’t nervous. It was obvious that he was no neophyte to police interrogation.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Baines said.
“Are you hungry? I imagine shooting Raymond Castor and Karen Wyatt must have built up an appetite.”
“Who?”
“Come on, Derek. You were ID’d by the guy who memorized your license plate.”
Baines shrugged. “He must have made a mistake with some of the letters or numbers, because I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could go for a sandwich or a pizza.”
“Which I would gladly trade you for the name of the person who paid for the hit on Mr. Castor. We’ve also run the prints of the dead Disciples at his house, and we know the four of you came up from Oakland.
We’re also pretty certain who asked you to kill Castor.
But it would help us, and benefit you, if you helped us prove we have the right guy. ”
“I’d help if I could, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I guess you got your injuries by humping an oak tree,” Audrey said. “The splinters the EMTs found in your wounds match the tree that was blasted to shit in Castor’s side yard.”
“Was it a rare tree? Because Oregon is famous for its varied foliage.”
“A person who uses words like varied and foliage is no dummy. That’s why we’re going to get you some food and let you think about your situation while we talk to the DA about a deal that might keep you off death row.”